He keeps his arm around my shoulders, still playing to the camera. “You know I can see the same fire in you, son.”
“Dad—”
I really don’t want to be dealing with this shit right now.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I'm embarrassing you, aren't I?”
A few teammates let out a forced laugh just as Erik moves beside me. He smiles at the camera.
“Mr. Hendricks?” Erik steps forward, completely blocking me from the lights and the crew.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Erik Steele. We met when Scotty moved into the dorms.”
My father shakes his hand, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, yes. The nutcracker, right?”
Erik’s eyebrows rise, and he glances at me for a quick second. “Oh, Scotty. You’ve been talking about me? I’m honored.”
“He talks about you all the time.”
Erik drags me toward him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Well, we are besties.”
When the cameraman tries to get me in the shot, Erik moves to block him again. Typical Erik. Always wanting the limelight. He can fucking have it. I don’t want it, and I never asked for it.
I roll my eyes, and they land on Alex, who raises an amused brow.
“Sure, we are,” I say sarcastically.
My dad’s face lights up. “Well, I’m glad Scotty has some good guys around him. You played phenomenally today, son. You should be proud.”
“Thank you, sir,” Erik says enthusiastically. “We’re lucky to have him on this team.”
Just as I slip out of Erik’s hold, he whips his head in my direction. His brows furrow as his eyes drift to the exit and then back to me.
“Scotty is one of the hardest working, most dedicated teammates I’ve ever had. What with training and the show. You know, if he ever needs a break—” He gives the last word more emphasis, his eyes widening and still trained on me.
His head tilts slightly to the exit again.
That’s when it hits me.
He’s trying to help me out.
How did he know?
“—I’ve got a great idea…” Erik pushes me out of the way entirely and wraps his arm around my father’s shoulders before launching into what I’m sure will be a five-minute monologue designed to get more camera time.
He’s doing me a solid though, and I take the opportunity to escape into the showers for a break.
The water is scalding, but I don't adjust the temperature. I just stand there, letting it beat down on me, trying to wash away the frustration.
He means well. Healwaysmeans well.
That's what makes it so hard.
When I finally emerge from the shower, towel around my waist, the camera crew is filming Erik demonstrating some drill while my dad narrates. Several other guys have clustered around, clearly hoping for their own moment in the spotlight.
No one else sees how annoying this is.
Why would they?
