Page 52 of Wrong Pucking Player

“No one is going to make a move on her,” he argues.

That comment doesn’t sit well with me, but I hold back from the tempting need to wake up.

“And what if I said I want to?”

The way the room falls silent follows by a low chuckle that sounds far too foreign. I know it’s from Oscar, but I don’t remembered the last time I heard him laugh so dangerously like that.

Honestly, it’s pretty hot.

“Either stop playing around with your food or learn to share, Equipment Manager,” Oscar encourages. “Or someone else is going to take your favorite dessert before you get a spoonful of its delicate sweetness.”

Wyatt has no comeback.

I wonder why Oscar’s willing to vouch for me. He isn’t the type to defend other people except for Jayce. I don’t owe him anything, and he certainly owes nothing on my behalf to be defending me like this.

So, why?

“I’m gonna take a smoke,” Oscar announces.

“You still smoke?” Wyatt questions.

“Not as frequently as I used to,” Oscar admits. “Bad habit I got from Jayce that I’m trying to stop, but after so many years, it’s difficult.”

“At least you’re trying,” Wyatt admits. “That should be acknowledged.”

“Thanks,” Oscar mutters. “You should call Jayce soon before he freaks out and tries to get rid of your position over you darting out of your meeting like that.”

Wyatt groans.

“In five minutes.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Footsteps follow his words before the screech of a door opening echoes through the air.

“Why are you still his friend?”

I don’t expect Wyatt to ask such a personal question.

“You mean with Jayce?” Oscar inquiries.

“He doesn’t speak highly of you,” Wyatt warns, sounding so serious, I can envision the scowl on his handsome face. “You noticed the way he belittled this place. He knows you live here and yet talked so poorly about your living environment, as if it’s absolutely disgusting, which it isn’t.”

“Most people who hear government anything assume the worst and that they never are associated with us,” Oscar admits and sounds amused by it all. “To rich folks, we’re a disease they don’t want to be close to. Afraid being in our orbit will suddenly make them poor. It’s laughable.”

The matter shouldn’t be one of mockery, but Oscar's tone proves that he’s taking the news of Jayce’s opinions far too lightly.

“Your family is like that, huh?”

“I’m not like that,” Wyatt stresses. “Neither is my dad.”

“I can tell,” Oscar admits. “You took the humble gene that’s in your Pops, but I bet your younger brothers aren’t replicas of you or your dad, are they?”

When Wyatt doesn’t answer, Oscar laughs.

“I guess I can assume why you two never worked.”

“What does this conversation have to do with Xandra?”

“Your bros are like Jayce. Easily influenced by the world’s fakeness and don’t want to be associated with those who are willing to live in their truth,” Oscar notes like some sort of riddle. “Judge people by one glance of their situation, not knowing what’s really hidden nor care about their personality. Material things and money is what’s important. Nothing more.”

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