Page 11 of Making a Mountain Man (Summer in the Pines #16)
Jill
“ T hanks for passing on the suck my cock guy article,” my coworker Anthony said, appearing over my shoulder as I poured myself a coffee.
I was still in a bit of an orgasm induced haze from my time with Wesley, so it took me a minute to catch up. “I didn’t pass on the article. I canceled it. No story to tell.”
He shrugged, leaning a hip against the counter as I spooned sugar into my cup.
I knew I needed to talk to Wesley about his past. Tell him that I knew what had happened.
That I had been tasked with writing his story.
That I believed him when he said he didn’t see the graffiti and frankly even if he did, it was at worst a tasteless joke.
Besides, the idea of watching every muscle in his core contract as I wrapped my lips around his dick wasn’t nearly as offensive as the world made it out to be. Suck my cock guy, indeed.
“Well, that wasn’t my understanding,” Anthony said, pulling me out of my head.
“I told Heather I wanted to take a crack at the story and she approved it. I just wanted to see if you had any notes I could use as a starting off point? No reason to redo research you’ve already done.
If there is enough there, I can put both our names on the article. ”
I froze.
“What angle were you thinking for the story? It’s all been said.”
He shrugged again, his nonchalance about the idea of blowing someone’s life up pissing me off more than it had the right to. I mean, if it hadn’t been Wes, I would have written the story and not looked back. “What’s he been up to? Why is he here, maybe? Follow up a year later.”
My mind was racing. He can’t write the story.
I needed a reason to give him besides the fact that I’d been naked in Wesley’s bed just a day before and he was too nice to be dragged into the public eye again.
“Heather said the only way to get a new story out of it was to interview the guy. That’s a roadblock I don’t think you can get through. ”
He smirked. “Maybe it was a roadblock you couldn’t get through.”
“What does that mean?” I thunked my coffee mug on the break room counter harder than necessary.
That fucking shrug again. “Maybe I have a few extra tricks up my sleeve. Won’t know until I at least try. This story will get a lot of reads for whoever pulls it off.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
My pulse raced as I skirted past my desk, thumping my thigh on the corner and not caring. I skidded into Heather’s office and stopped in front of her desk. “The cock guy story, we killed it. Right?” I managed to say between huffs of breath .
“What?”
I held up a finger and put my hands on my knees fighting to catch my breath. Man, I needed to get back to doing cardio. Once I was relatively sure I wasn’t dying, I tried again. “I told you there was no story for the suck my cock guy . Rumor mill has it Anthony is writing it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest as if this little change of plans didn’t have the potential to fuck up my love life. “Jill, what is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed and gestured to the chair across from her desk which I dropped into. “I’m your boss but I’m also your friend. Why are you so invested in this particular story and whether it gets written or not? You know this is not how journalism works.”
I did know. Especially for a newspaper. We needed to get stories out quickly, one publication a week.
Not to mention that a lot of what we wrote about was time sensitive.
Agonizing over and rehashing a story idea for this long wasn’t even close to the norm.
I needed Heather on my side and I saw no way to get there except to tell the truth.
“I started researching Wesley’s story. In the last year he has relocated, changed his last name, and now lives up on Strawberry Hill hiding from the world.
It didn’t seem fair to throw his life into turmoil again. ”
She chewed the inside of her cheek and studied me. “So he means something to you, is that it?”
“I slept with him.” The words flew out of my mouth and I sank further into my chair, as she blinked at me.
“Wait, you slept with Anthony or the suck my cock guy .”
“The suck my cock guy , Wesley. I realized I knew him from when we were kids. We grew up together. I…we…there migh t be something there. Something real.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “So did you kill the story because there isn’t one or because you don’t want to drag your boyfriend’s name through the mud?”
“There’s nothing new to tell besides a man hiding from the world because he was made an example of. The punishment didn’t fit the alleged crime at the time and sure as hell doesn’t make sense to put him through it a second time.”
“So, what’s the truth about why you wanted to kill the story then?”
“I don’t know. Some weird, misplaced protective instinct, I guess.”
She smirked. “How’d that work out?”
I shot her a look.
“What do you want me to do here, Jill? Tell a journalist not to write a story because another journalist has a crush? This story will hit the news again at some point. You’re fighting an uphill battle.”
She was right and I knew that. Still, I had to do something. “Let me write it then. I can write it some way that won’t blow his life up.”
She rolled her lips under. “I need something to print, Jill. I can’t put out a blank newspaper because stories keep getting shuffled.”
My heart was starting to race. I understood where she was coming from but I couldn’t take no for an answer. Not on this. Not with him. “I’ll get you enough puff pieces to fill a hundred newspapers if you just assign this one to me and call Anthony off.”
Her eyes softened and I knew I had won before she gave the nod.
Note: Fix this clusterfuck.