Page 38
Story: The Pucking Wrong Rookie
Whore. Slut. Tramp.
With each second, my stomach twisted tighter. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to be the center of attention.
When he finally pulled away, my skin was crawling. I could still feel the weight of his hands on me, like a stain I couldn’t wash off. He leaned in, his voice a low, mocking whisper only I could hear. “Looks like York’s watching. Let’s see how much he likes that.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat felt tight, and the taste of him still lingered on my lips—bitter and wrong. My mind was racing, my body frozen in place. As Tyler walked to the locker room, smirking like he’d won, I realized I wasn’t just scared of what he’d done.
I was scared of what would happen next. I couldn’t even begin to think about what Everett would say. How disappointed he’d be.
Doing my best not to meet anyone’s gaze—especially Logan York’s—I hustled up the stairs, pushing through the crowd to get to the exit.
I hadn’t even made it to the hallway when my phone was buzzing, the sound cutting through the haze of my panicked thoughts. I fumbled to pull it out of my pocket, my hands shaking. The moment I saw the name flash across the screen, my stomach dropped.
Everett.
“Sloane,” he said coldly through the phone the second I answered. His voice was sharp, furious. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I—” I started, but he cut me off, his voice seething.
“You’re drawing too much attention to yourself. What do you think you’re doing? Tyler’s already called me. He’s not happy with your performance. Said you’ve been too focused on that Dallas player.”
My heart hammered in my chest, the panic rising as his words sank in.
“You wouldn’t happen to be doing anything behind my back now, would you? Because you know the rules.” Everett’s voice was perfectly calm, and somehow that was way more terrifying than when he sounded mad.
“I’m not—” I began, my voice weak.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “You’re playing with fire, Sloane. You think you can afford to be careless? You think you can afford to let people notice you? I’ve worked too hard to keep you under the radar, and now you’re screwing everything up.”
The anger in his voice made my blood run cold. I could picture him on the other end of the line, pacing, his face twisted in that familiar look of disgust.
“I’ll fix it,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I promise…I don’t even know Logan?—”
“You certainly know his name,” he said—cutting me off once again.
There was an awkward, terrible silence as I waited for him to speak. Nothing I said was going to convince him.
“I don’t want to hear another word about this,” he finally said. “Do your job and stay invisible. Got it?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my chest tight with fear and shame. “I’ve got it.”
He hung up without another word, the silence on the other end of the line like a slap in the face.
I sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in my hand, my mind racing. All of the fear, the anxiety, the panic—it twisted together in a messy knot in my stomach. Tyler was furious, my uncle was furious.
I had to stay away. I had to.
My whole future depended on it.
* * *
LOGAN
I was never going to watch Tyler Miller kiss Sloane again.
I hadn’t even spoken to her, and I’d only just learned her name.
But I did know one thing.
With each second, my stomach twisted tighter. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to be the center of attention.
When he finally pulled away, my skin was crawling. I could still feel the weight of his hands on me, like a stain I couldn’t wash off. He leaned in, his voice a low, mocking whisper only I could hear. “Looks like York’s watching. Let’s see how much he likes that.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat felt tight, and the taste of him still lingered on my lips—bitter and wrong. My mind was racing, my body frozen in place. As Tyler walked to the locker room, smirking like he’d won, I realized I wasn’t just scared of what he’d done.
I was scared of what would happen next. I couldn’t even begin to think about what Everett would say. How disappointed he’d be.
Doing my best not to meet anyone’s gaze—especially Logan York’s—I hustled up the stairs, pushing through the crowd to get to the exit.
I hadn’t even made it to the hallway when my phone was buzzing, the sound cutting through the haze of my panicked thoughts. I fumbled to pull it out of my pocket, my hands shaking. The moment I saw the name flash across the screen, my stomach dropped.
Everett.
“Sloane,” he said coldly through the phone the second I answered. His voice was sharp, furious. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I—” I started, but he cut me off, his voice seething.
“You’re drawing too much attention to yourself. What do you think you’re doing? Tyler’s already called me. He’s not happy with your performance. Said you’ve been too focused on that Dallas player.”
My heart hammered in my chest, the panic rising as his words sank in.
“You wouldn’t happen to be doing anything behind my back now, would you? Because you know the rules.” Everett’s voice was perfectly calm, and somehow that was way more terrifying than when he sounded mad.
“I’m not—” I began, my voice weak.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “You’re playing with fire, Sloane. You think you can afford to be careless? You think you can afford to let people notice you? I’ve worked too hard to keep you under the radar, and now you’re screwing everything up.”
The anger in his voice made my blood run cold. I could picture him on the other end of the line, pacing, his face twisted in that familiar look of disgust.
“I’ll fix it,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I promise…I don’t even know Logan?—”
“You certainly know his name,” he said—cutting me off once again.
There was an awkward, terrible silence as I waited for him to speak. Nothing I said was going to convince him.
“I don’t want to hear another word about this,” he finally said. “Do your job and stay invisible. Got it?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my chest tight with fear and shame. “I’ve got it.”
He hung up without another word, the silence on the other end of the line like a slap in the face.
I sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in my hand, my mind racing. All of the fear, the anxiety, the panic—it twisted together in a messy knot in my stomach. Tyler was furious, my uncle was furious.
I had to stay away. I had to.
My whole future depended on it.
* * *
LOGAN
I was never going to watch Tyler Miller kiss Sloane again.
I hadn’t even spoken to her, and I’d only just learned her name.
But I did know one thing.
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