All my muscles clench.
Little shit is out-talking me in my office.
“Did you read it this time?” I ask as I toss one over to him.
He holds his phone up. “I’ve got the PDF here with my questions highlighted, thanks.”
Orlando sets the printed contract back on the desk.
“Honestly, though,” he continues. “I don’t know anything about the business side of this. My dad raised me. Him and my aunt and uncle who lived next door. They’ve been cheering me on the whole time, but no one in my family has experience with anything like my career.”
I nod. “That’s good to know.” Surprising myself, I add, “I was in the same situation. Most athletes are.”
Except I didn’t have anything to speak of in terms of family cheering me on. But I’ve already offered more than I should.
I tighten my brow, pulling my shit together as I remind myself of the reason he’s here in the first place.
Zeke asked me to get him in line.
“You don’t need business experience to stay out of trouble and make it to training on time,” I point out. “That’s about respecting your team and the game. Everything else comes second to that.”
He winces, but doesn’t argue.
Orlando rubs his chin and uses his other hand to scroll through the contract on his phone. His brow tightens in concentration, and desire crashes through me.
Gritting my teeth, I turn my attention to the paper contract. “I’ll explain what you need to know,” I tell him, taking control again, “and how we’ll improve this at your next negotiation. Start at the top.”
Orlando nods, and I shift fully into work mode. Thankfully, he goes along, but damn.
This was a lot easier when I hated him.
CHAPTEREIGHT
ORLANDO
“Whoa,” I call out to Syed. He kicks the ball to me as we make our way down the field, sending it soaring with immaculate precision. “You’re even more on fire than usual, man!”
Smoothly, I run some quick footwork and return the ball his way.
“Thanks!” he calls out.
We’re at our home stadium, warming up before a game against Boston, the only undefeated team in the league. Because Syed and I lead the offense, we always spend the pregame session getting in sync.
On the field, my energy and instincts give me the edge. The same qualities that get me in trouble away from the game make me into a fierce fighter.
As we reach the end of the field, he sends a ball high for me, and I head it back, jogging after to meet him in the middle of the field. Kevyn joins us, drinking from his water bottle.
“I can see Frisk Sports rubbing off on you both,” Syed says. “You’ve been kicking ass, too, Kevyn.”
Kevyn pumps his shoulders. “This extra training is doing me good.”
Syed chuckles and looks at me. “You’re already work married to the best trainer on the team. With Frisk breathing down your neck, too, I’m surprised your limbs haven’t fallen off.”
I wipe sweat from my forehead. “I don’t know, man. Still seems like every time I get a fraction of a second closer to your speed records, you get two fractions of a second faster.”
Inside, I’m wincing, though. No one on the team but Kevyn realizes that I’m only with Troy’s agency as some weird form of discipline. And if they knew the other dynamic at play, they might think I’m a fraud.
Even if I do succeed in seducing Troy again, it’s staying between us. I’m not prepared to come out to my team, not any time soon and especially not during the middle of the season. It’s much easier if everyone just thinks I’m a straight guy right now.
