Doesn’t surprise me at all. Spoiled rich girls are never satisfied with what they have.
What a slut!
Those stung.
Morgan gently grabbed my phone, locking the screen before I could read further. “Okay. Breathe. This isn’t a big deal. We can get a PR team to spin this in no time.”
I glanced up at my friend. “How? By issuing a statement saying nothing is going on between me and Dylan?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I can’t do that. It was one thing not to confirm or deny dating Jase, but denying a relationship with Dylan doesn’t sit right with me. He’s been so understanding about the media focusing on Jase and me. I can’t ask him to be shoved even further into the shadows.”
Morgan nodded. “I get it. So what do you want to do?”
“For starters, the guys shouldn’t have to deal with this. They need to focus on baseball and ensure their teams are in the best possible position for the second half of the season. They don’t need bullshit distractions.”
“Okay …,” she trailed off, unsure of what I was getting at.
“There’s a possibility this will blow over if we all ignore it.”
She nodded. “That’s true, but what if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll come up with a plan in Vegas when we’re all together,” I said. “If the media wants to keep speculating, I think the only thing we can do is be honest.”
“You ready for the possible fallout of going public?”
I didn’t answer right away.
I hated media attention, but I was done feeling like I needed to hide my relationship just because some people might not understand or approve. Rather than allowing the speculation to continue, I was going to make sure people knew the truth. What we had was worth fighting for.
29
Jase
By the timeI made it back to my room, I was running on fumes and irritation. I’d showered at the stadium, pulled on a Red Sox tee and jeans, and somehow made it through the bus ride without snapping at anyone, which felt like an accomplishment after I went oh-for-four and overthrew to first, which let the Blue Jays score the run that beat us. After changing into sleep pants, I grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until I landed on a highlights show, because apparently I hated myself enough to see whether they were going to replay my fuck-up.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I grabbed it.
VIDEO SURFACES OF FAYE DONNELLEY IN INTIMATE MOMENT WITH CRUSHERS INFIELDER! IS SHE CHEATING ON JASE MATTHEWSON WITH HIS STEPBROTHER?
My stomach dropped so hard I felt sick.
“What the fuck?”
I was furious.
Not at Faye. Not at Dylan. But at whoever had filmed them. At whoever had posted it. At whoever had written that trashy headline.
At everyone who thought they could take something private and turn it into a show.
My phone kept vibrating, again, then again, then again, and I watched the notifications stack up as if they were trying to bury me.
Cruz: You awake?
Mom: Call me when you can
Lila: Call me ASAP
