Page 89 of Dirty Pucking Player

I’ve missed him—all of him—more than I want to admit. But I wasn’t expecting him to be joining the meeting. It shouldn’t surprise me, though. He played like shit today before I pulled him, and in the last two games before that, and Bob is going to want answers.

I step back from the door, and Bash brushes past me without a word.

“Both of you sit.”

Bob’s brusque order shakes me from my stupor and reminds me of where I am. I shut the door and lower myself into the seat next to Bash. Bob stares at me for a long time. Then, he stares at Bash.

I’m ready for the tongue-lashing we’re about to receive. I deserve it. I failed as a coach. That’s pretty clear.

“I know why you called us in here, Bob. And I can explain why I had to pull Bash.”

He slams his fist onto the desk. “Is that what you think this is about?” He shakes his head. “Yes, your team fell the fuck apart, as did your star player.” He points to Bash. “But what I pulled you in here to discuss is the fact that the two of you have been sleeping together.”

“What?” Both of us jerk to attention.

Shit.

Bash’s frantic gaze meets mine.

Oh, shit. This can’t happen now. We aren’t even together anymore. How did he find out?

Bash clears his throat. “Bob—”

Bob holds up a hand to stop him. “Spare me, Bash.” He points a finger at him. “You, I should have expected this from.” He turns his gaze on me. “But you…”—he shakes his head—“I just can’t wrap my head around how you could do something so stupid. With all eyes on you and everyone waiting for you to fail. With my career on the line as much as yours, you sleep with a goddamn player?”

“I-I…” I open my mouth and close it.

All words fail me.

There’s no excuse or explanation I can offer that will placate him because none of them are legitimate. There is no excuse for what we did.

None.

“Who told you?” Bash’s question hangs heavy in the air.

Bob narrows his eyes on him. “Why the hell does it matter? I don’t see you denying it.”

How can we?

Bob knows I’m a shitty liar, and with Bash’s reputation, Bob wouldn’t believe him, anyway.

The man who holds our careers in his hands rises from behind his desk, rage flashing in his normally kind eyes. “It was right in front of my face. The way you two suddenly hit it off. You sat here in front of me and mocked me while you were secretly having an affair.”

I gasp and shake my head. “It wasn’t like that, Bob.”

At least, not for me.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “It wasn’t?”

Maybe for Bash.

He was making suggestive comments. In fact, it’s precisely what we fought about before we fucked like animals in my office.

Bob shakes his head as he sits on the edge of his desk in front of us. “People do a lot of stupid things in their lives, Greer, but this, this has to be at the top for you. I don’t even know what to do with you two.” His gaze darts between us. “If this goes public…” He shakes his head and drops his face into his palm for a moment before looking back up. “I’ve managed to contain it. For now. Or at least, I think I have.”

Bash clears his throat and leans forward slightly. “What are you going to do?”

Bob shakes his head. “I should fire you”—he points at me—“and trade him the first chance I get”—he moves the finger to Bash.

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