Page 42 of Pucking Tangled
FORTY-ONE
Casey
Casey felt someone nudge his foot. He moved, trying not to disturb the dog curled behind his knees. Skeeter huffed at the motion and tucked his head under the blanket like the sunlight offended him personally.
Another nudge.
“Hey, Case. Wake up.” It was Luca.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his bearings.
News breaking about their relationship.
Mia.
Their public statements.
Coming together as a…whatever the hell they were.
Chinese food in the living room and falling asleep together on the floor.
“Earth to Casey.” Luca chuckled. “We’ve got a meeting at 10am. All of us. PR Staff. The GM. They want us to bring Mia.”
That got his attention. He sat up fast, his heart thumping hard .
“Fuck.” He already knew what this meant.
It wasn’t about contracts or trades.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and stood, taking a moment to adjust his morning wood before he poked someone’s eye out.
He could smell coffee brewing and heard soft voices from in the kitchen. Clearly he was the last to wake up.
Luca tossed him his phone.
And there it was. A string of texts from their coach.
The last one said it all.
Coach M: This meeting is not optional. We’ll see you at 10.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way into the kitchen.
He headed to Mia first, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
She smiled up at him nervously from where she was sitting at the table with her cup of coffee in hand. “Luca told you?”
“Yeah,” Casey sighed, making his way to Owen who was at the stove flipping eggs and bacon like it was any other day and their entire relationship wasn’t about to be scrutinized.
He wrapped his arms around Owen’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. “This fucking sucks.”
Owen set the spatula down and turned to him. “It is what it is. Hopefully, the organization’s got our back.”
“I don’t like that they’re calling in Mia, too,” he whispered, hoping she didn’t overhear him. He didn’t want her to worry, not after everything that had happened already. “Can they even do that? ”
Owen shrugged and turned back to the stove. “They did. But it might actually be a good thing.”
Casey snorted. “I hope you’re right.”
“Here,” Luca said, handing him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” Casey took the first sip. “Ah. That’s better,” he chuckled. “Where’s Waylon?”
Mia stared down into her coffee cup and whispered. “He’s…uhm…pacing in the garage.”
“He’ll pull himself together,” Owen said.
“What do you think they’ll say?” Luca raised his coffee mug to his lips and took a sip.
“That we crossed a line.” Owen added more bacon to the cast iron skillet.
“That they’re worried about optics,” Casey added.
Mia bit her bottom lip and looked down at her coffee. “And that I’m the liability.”
“No,” Owen said, flipping an egg with unnecessary force. “They won’t say it. But they’ll think it.”
Casey walked back over to Mia and took a seat next to her before pulling her into his lap. She leaned back into him, setting his heart on fire.
“We’ve got you,” he murmured. “All of us. They can’t spin this into something ugly if we don’t let them.”
She nodded but her whole body was still tense.
He wished there was something he could do to magically change the way the world looked at love. Relationships. People who were different. Who loved differently.
“We should get there early. Walk in together,” Luca said as Waylon finally walked in through the slider, shirtless and his jaw tight.
“I agree. Make them see this for what it is. Real. A united front. We don’t flinch,” Waylon added.
Casey’s heart beat a little steadier.
They were both right.
They couldn’t control the press. The ‘fans.’ Or whatever headline would hit next.
But they could control how they showed up. And what they stood for.
Until then, they’d eat breakfast and get themselves ready to face whatever the day was about to bring.
The conference room at the Barn Raisers’ front office looked exactly like Casey remembered: long table, uncomfortable chairs, bad coffee. But today it felt smaller. Warmer. Or maybe just more suffocating.
There was a reason he didn’t like to spend a lot of time here.
He took a seat at the far end of the table between Mia and Owen. Luca sat on the other side of Mia, holding her hand under the table. Waylon stood behind them, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed like he’d rather be anywhere but there.
Wouldn’t they all?
The front office staff filed in quietly—PR reps, media advisors, the general manager, one of the team’s lawyers. Last to enter was a man Casey only knew by reputation: Tom Larson. Team Owner. Old-school. Stiff tie. Permanent frown.
Casey heard the rumors. The man had an estranged daughter who was married to a woman. The asshole didn’t even show up to the wedding.
So he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t sit. Just stood near the door like a bouncer, arms crossed .
Not a good sign.
The head of PR, a middle-aged woman named Vanessa, took the lead.
“This is uncharted territory for the team.”
Casey felt Mia take a deep breath beside him.
“Us too, if we’re being honest,” Mia spoke.
Vanessa gave her an understanding smile. “I’m going to be blunt. We’ve been watching everything since yesterday. The footage. The reactions. The backlash. And while some of the coverage is…cruel, the story is real .”
“That’s because it is , Vanessa,” Waylon interrupted. “It’s real. It happened. It is happening and that’s not going to change.”
“Nor should it,” she said, shocking them all. “Things could have gone a lot worse, but the way you made individual statements? I don’t know if you’ve seen those comments yet, but the fans are eating it up.”
That was news to them. They’d basically shut the whole world off after Mia made her personal statement.
“Wait, so can we get to why we’re here? Are we suspended? Getting traded? What’s going on?” Owen asked.
Vanessa shook her head. “Nothing like that. You haven’t broken any league rules. There’s no contractual language prohibiting personal relationships—as long as there’s no coercion, no conflicts of interest, and no incidents that reflect poorly on the team from you guys directly.”
She paused and let that sink in.
“What happens now is we work together to control the narrative…”
Vanessa opened up the tablet she was holding and laid out their plan.
No personal statements without clearance.
No more social media posts that referenced Mia directly.
Coordinated messaging would go through PR.
If the guys wanted to be open about their relationship with Mia, the club wouldn’t stop them—but they’d be trained, coached, and supported so that they didn’t feed the trolls or sink the ship trying to protect her.
Mia cleared her throat. “And what’s my place in all of this?”
Vanessa’s expression softened as she looked at her.
“You handled the media shit storm with more grace than a lot of professionals. That says a lot about you. We were already looking for interns for the fall,” Vanessa said slowly.
“We’d like to offer you one. Paid. Working in PR, operations, or legal counsel review.
Your choice. It’s not a guarantee of anything long-term, but it’s a door. One you’ve earned.”
Mia blinked. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
There was a long silence as they all sat, stunned.
Finally, Waylon muttered, “About damn time someone noticed she’s the smartest one here.”
The guys all smiled, but before Mia could accept the offer and they could celebrate, Tom Larson coughed and stepped forward from his post.
“I do have one question that I think everyone needs to think about here.” He straightened his tie. “What happens when this little…show…falls apart?”
All eyes turned toward him, various levels of disbelief and defiance on their faces.
“When she decides she wants out. Or one of you gets jealous. Crosses a boundary and pisses someone off? How is this going to affect game play? You think I didn’t hear about the little fight in the locker room?
” He looked at Casey with a raised brow.
“You think the media circus now is bad? Imagine the fallout when this implodes mid-season and we’re expected to keep the locker room together. ”
His eyes landed on Mia.
“And do you really want your first experience in this industry to be handling damage control statements for the mess you helped create?”
The sound of four chairs scraping across the floor echoed through the room as Owen, Luca, Casey and Coach Micheals stood.
“I think that’s enough, Tom,” Coach Micheals interjected.
“She deserves to hear the risks,” Larson replied, his distaste for the situation no longer veiled.
It wasn’t about Mia knowing the risks.
Ol’ Tom Larson had been outvoted and he wasn’t happy about it.
“With all due respect, I think I’ve already lived the risks. More than once, Sir,” Mia answered in defense of herself.
“Then you should be well aware how fast everyone can turn on you.”
Waylon crossed the room in three quick strides to stand in front of Larson. When he spoke, his tone was deceptively calm. “One more word out of you that makes her feel like she’s not good enough, and I swear to god, I’ll take my suspension with a smile.”
“I think he gets the point.” Coach Micheals stepped between them.
Vanessa glanced toward Mia and rolled her eyes subtly, as if to say, “Boys. What are you going to do?”
She cleared her throat. “Mia, you’ll receive the internship offer in your email by the end of the day.
We’ll work with your class schedule and anything else we need to.
” She looked at each of the guys then, making sure to catch all of their eyes as she went down the line.
“The rest of you will get individual media coaching sessions this week. Until then, no interviews, no off-the-cuff posts. Understand?”
They all nodded.
“I’ve got one more question,” Luca said. “Any idea who the source from the team was?”
“Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to uncover who the media allegedly spoke to. They’re not naming names, of course, and no one has come forth. We are working on it though,” Vanessa assured them.
As the meeting wrapped up, everyone else filled out of the room, but the guys lingered with Mia for a few more moments.
“You okay, Blondie?” Waylon asked, rubbing her shoulders.
“Yeah. I think I am. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone, but I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said with a kiss.