Chapter 28
— Scout —
A sharp jab to my ribs shocked me awake with a grunt. “What the—?”
I gently gripped Remmy’s arm before she could do it again.
“Your phone’s ringing,” she mumbled, verified when the ringtone started again.
I grumbled a curse while awkwardly hooking my arm backward and blindly searching for my phone on the bedside table.
It blared again as I snagged it and squinted at the screen.
“Hey, Bobby.” It was unusual that our manager was calling this early.
“Scout. Where are you?”
I glanced at Remmy watching me through heavy sleepy eyelids. “In bed. I stayed with Remmy.”
“Ah, the topic on everyone’s lips this morning.” He sounded less than pleased.
Sitting up, I scrubbed my hand through my hair. “What’s going on?”
“You and she are the talk of the latest media gossip, that’s what.”
My heart dropped, then further when he added, “I’m sending you one of the many links on the net. She’s caused quite the storm.”
I cursed under my breath and ignored Remmy’s warm palm sliding around my thigh.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, now wide awake with concern creasing her features.
I gripped her hand and squeezed. “Not sure yet…”
Bobby’s message came through, and he waited on the line as I read the headline:
Portland Bears’ star pitcher Scout “Gats” Gatlin dating FootFet pornography star.
“Fuck,” I murmured.
“Yeah, fuck . Did you know about this already?” Bobby demanded while I skimmed the article.
Having seen enough, I ground my teeth. “Yeah, I found out recently.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?”
Indignation rose. “It’s none of anyone’s business.”
“It’s the entire world’s goddamn business now!” he yelled into the phone, making me pull it from my ear.
“Fuck, can I call you back, Bobby?”
“You can do me one better: Meet me at my room in half an hour.”
“Yup.” I disconnected and sucked in a long shaky inhale. Things had gone to shit in a matter of hours, and unfortunately, the only option we had now was to ride out the uproar and hope like fuck it didn’t drag out.
Remmy’s warm hand softly touched my bare thigh again. “Scout?”
Strangled rage warred with a furious calm as I took her in. Eyes a little puffy from the lack of sleep, wild long dark hair, gorgeous tits swaying as she sat up, but it was the worry etched into the downward angle of her brows that coaxed the bubbles of frustration free.
“What the fuck , Remmy?”
Indignation made her chin tuck back. “What have I done?”
My hand shook as I thumbed through the only online news article I’d opened so far. “Oh, just let the entire goddamn world know that I’m dating one of the most popular FootFet stars.”
Her face drained of color. “I didn’t tell anyone shit, least of all that . Show me.”
I handed over my phone and watched her swallow thickly as she skimmed the article. “Oh my god. Oh no,” she whispered on repeat while pressing her hand to her mouth and shaking her head.
Without another word, she handed back my phone, looking equally as ill as I felt. She swung her feet to the floor and sat on her side of the bed, giving me her bare back as she used her phone.
“Fuck,” she eventually spat, shoulders slumping at the one word that stripped away her confident posture. “I know how it happened.”
Sad eyes looked back over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Scout.” Her dark lashes blinked rapidly, visibly fighting the sheen of tears threatening to overflow her lower lash line. “Bren said it really loud while we were in line to get into Crimson . People overheard, but I didn’t think anything of it. But someone must have taken photos of my feet while I was on stage.”
Remmy held up her phone, showing an article I hadn’t dared open. It contained a grainy photo of the soles of her feet while she was barefoot on stage. “Whoever took this photo must have searched for my FootFet account and made the connection. I told you people always find out. I told you I’d ruin this.” She swallowed thickly, then eased from the bed. “I ah… I’ll get packing.”
Fragments of my heart splintered as she walked naked around the bed and into the bathroom without so much as a glance at me. The heavy click of the lock engaging added another weight to my chest.
Scrubbing my hands over my face did little to ease the deluge of thoughts. Fuck, I actually thought I’d fallen for her a little bit, and it absolutely killed me that she was so ruthlessly exposed. And selfishly, a part of me worried for myself too. For my image. My career.
But Remmy was… she was someone I didn’t want to not have in my life.
As soon as she came out of the bathroom, I gathered her into a hug despite still being pissed to hell about Bobby’s phone call.
“I’ll arrange a private jet to take you back to Portland. To avoid the media.”
Remmy’s arms remained hanging at her sides as she shook her head. “I’ll organize something myself.”
“Remmy,” I bit out, holding her at arm’s length. “I said I’m going to organize it, so let me.”
The detachment in her irises tightened the ever-growing knot in my chest. “Fine,” she conceded with a numb shrug.
As she began to shift past me, I snagged her inner elbow. “Babe—”
Another subtle shake of her head had me pausing. “It’s okay, Scout.”
I didn’t know what those shaky words meant, or how to interpret the dejection that pulled her lips into a downward arch. And in that moment, I pulled her into me again.
“I’m pissed off, but this changes nothing,” I stated vehemently.
“We’ll see,” she whispered, all fight having left her.
We dressed in tense silence. Alone with our tumbling thoughts of what ifs and what do we do nows .
The sound of the door opening had me rushing to shove my head through the neck hole of my shirt. Remmy stood in the open doorway, looking back at me with a forlorn expression that broke my damn heart.
“I’m going to let the girls know what’s happened and say goodbye before I leave. I’ve got my room card so…” With another shrug, she stepped into the corridor and let the door swing closed with a heavy thunk .
Grinding my teeth, I made a call to charter a private jet locally since it would take Peter—the pilot of our family’s private jet—at least six hours to get from Idaho to Miami, then pocketed my phone.
Now alone, I tipped my chin back while fighting against the nauseating roll in the pit of my belly. I fought against it for a minute, laced my hands behind my head, and focused on breathing slow and deep.
Between one inhale and another, my stomach lurched. It dared me to make a move. Called me weak for even considering it. Until, ultimately, it had my head crushed between invisible claws that forced me to my knees in the bathroom.
All over again, I hated myself for doing it. For giving in. For not being stronger.
My eyes squeezed closed, and I coughed painfully on the last retch, then flushed the toilet with a dejected curse. While relieved, the lapse had me silently berating myself for not being stronger. For giving in when I should have tried harder to ignore the urge to vomit.
I closed the toilet lid and propped my elbows against it, letting my head hang while I mentally got a fucking grip.
Thankfully, by the time I’d pulled myself together and brushed my teeth with the complimentary hotel toiletry kit I’d used last night, Remmy hadn’t walked in on my ugly secret.
I paced the room, debating whether to knock on the room next door or wait for her to return. I couldn’t wait to get a protein shake in my burning belly. And a breath of fresh air—if I could avoid the media that no doubt swarmed like desperate flies over the scent of old blood.
The sound of the door unlocking had me whirling, swallowing down the residual bile that lingered.
Remmy’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. She’d been crying, yet the second she laid eyes on me, her chin lifted, and her shoulders squared. The fierceness in her gaze spoke volumes: the hell she would let me see her break. That was reserved for her most trusted and closest.
Without a word, I engulfed her in my arms despite her trying to fight me off. She yielded with a huff from her nose, then slumped against me.
“Your plane will be ready by the time you get to the private airport,” I murmured into her hair.
“You didn’t have to,” she muttered.
My chest squeezed. “I wanted to.”
“Thanks.” She pulled out of my arms. “I should get going. See ya ’round, I guess.”
No, we wouldn’t be ending on a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders and careless words. I cupped her face and angled her chin up to meet my stare.
“I’ll see you, honey,” I stated from low in my throat. “This isn’t a deal breaker. It’s merely another unexpected bump in the road.”
Before she had the chance to tell me otherwise, I claimed her mouth with a hard, crushing kiss, then strode from her hotel room. Bitter dread once again settled in my stomach as I marched down the hotel corridor, heading for the elevator.
I now had to face the management team.