Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
JETT
Monday starts early for me. Our easy win on Sunday means our morning weight-lifting session isn’t scheduled until eight a.m., but since I live an hour out, I head into Houston by 6:45. That combined with a late night at Ava’s and another restless night of sleep, thanks to my convoluted feelings about the whole thing, means I can barely keep my eyes open at the offense meeting that afternoon. I’m looking forward to getting home and taking a power nap to get me through the rest of the evening.
To my surprise, when I check my phone on the way out to my truck, I have a dozen text messages, from everyone from Claire, Jenna, and my mom to an old teammate, Brock Turner, who got traded a couple years ago and I keep in touch with as well as various other friends.
“What the—” I mutter. Jenna’s and Claire’s are both variations on Call me when you get out of training today . My mom’s says, Jett, what’s going on?! with a link to an Instagram post from an account I recognize as a gossip account. Brock’s just says Anything for a story, Combs, along with a laughing emoji. Brock was definitely the one stirring up stories back in the day. Still does. I swear under my breath and call Claire first, putting her on speakerphone while I click the link to see what I’m walking into.
“When I asked you to get more visible on social media, this wasn’t what I was talking about,” Claire says the same time the picture loads. It’s one of me and Ava going into her house, my arm around her, practically carrying her because she could barely walk at that point. I mean, I know that because I was there, but this picture looks a lot different than what happened. I’m looking down at her, and grainy as it is, there’s no mistaking the expression on my face. It looks like I’m in love with her.
Probably because I suspect I still might be, or might be again, whatever. Fruitless as knowing that is.
It’s dumb, because I know that’s just when she was telling me the code to unlock her door. I run a hand down my face. This is exactly what I hate about being a celebrity. One of Ava’s neighbors likely made a couple thousand dollars on a private moment in my life. In our lives. This affects her too. She’s identified in the post by name, and one quick scroll shows her private account being tagged over and over.
“Jett?” Claire says, reminding me I’m on the phone.
I growl and she sighs in response. “What’s the story?” I ask.
“It could be worse,” she says quickly. “No publicity is bad publicity and all that, but this one could spiral quickly if we don’t say something ourselves. People are saying you’re cheating on Hayden with an ex-fiancée—I know, Jett, I know.”
“Hayden and I haven’t even been on a date, and already we’re in a committed relationship that has people online angry with me over helping out an old friend?” This is why I shouldn’t have let Hayden post that selfie. This wouldn’t have even been an issue.
“This is why you should have someone handling your accounts,” Claire counters sternly. “If we already had our own storyline of your weekend, especially if you’d been out with Hayden, the story that Ava’s an old friend would be more believable. ”
I grimace at the annoyance in her voice. She’s been pushing me to get that taken care of, but I have a lot of stuff going on. Finding someone I can trust to run my social media isn’t a simple task.
“She is an old friend.” I know I sound defensive, and I try to tone it down as I explain. “She had an allergic reaction at a get-together last night and had to be taken to the hospital. It made the most sense for me to drive her home since she’s staying in Kemah while she’s in town.”
“That’s the storyline I’m talking about. If we had pictures up of you with friends at a post-game celebration, we could post something of you with her and a sympathetic message. You’d have followers that were loyal to you and not just looking for any piece of gossip.”
I grunt. “I don’t think I need to pull Ava into this.”
“She’s already in it, and because she’s gotten bad press before, she looks worse because we have nothing to counter it with.”
Bad press? What’s Claire talking about? Maybe something to do with event planning? Ava did mention last night that emotions run high with weddings. “I don’t have time for dating right now, and this feels like a good reason I should just steer clear. I’m working on a more charming social media persona.”
Claire snorts with laughter. “You’ve posted four pictures in the last two weeks, and while that’s definitely an improvement, it’s not exactly what my goal is here. The big endorsements go to guys they know can sell product. You need a social media manager, like right now, especially given your time constraints.”
Only four? I swear it felt like so much more. I groan inwardly, but Claire goes on before I can mount any kind of argument.
“You need to do something to counteract this. If you don’t want people talking about you and Ava, help them talk about you and Hayden. Take Hayden out on a date. She’s an athlete, just like you. She played collegiate basketball. I think she’d surprise you. Give her a chance. And post something about your friendship with Ava. Right now.”
After years of training under a Texas mama, a respectful “Yes, ma’am” comes out automatically, and Claire hangs up before I can say anything else. She’s straightforward, yes, and this whole thing is irritating as all get-out, but she’s just doing her job. She’s trying to do what’s best for my career—making me indispensable to the Pumas franchise, a moneymaker on and off the field. She’s making sure that whatever happens next in my career, I’m set.
I text my mom about Ava going to the hospital last night and everything being a misunderstanding and ask if she has any old pictures of me and Ava. Then I get into my truck and dial Jenna as I head home. I don’t think I’m getting that power nap I wanted.
I spend the rest of Monday evening doing my best to fix the situation, including calling Hayden to explain about Ava. Even though we’re just friends, she was dragged into this and I feel like I owe her an explanation, especially so she can react appropriately on her social media accounts. I also ask her if she wants to get together this week, since Claire isn’t wrong that it would be a good idea. Hayden has to suspect that part of my motivation is to clean up the online mess, which I hate because I really do like her, and I’ve enjoyed the conversations we’ve had via text and phone the last week or so. If I set aside my reservations about living my life more publicly, I think there’s real potential for something working out for us. Claire’s information that she’s a collegiate athlete isn’t news to me. Hayden and I already talked about our days playing college sports and how demanding it is. We have a lot in common. Plus she’s a much safer bet, public image and all, than pursuing another doomed relationship with Ava .
Last night I came dangerously close to throwing all my caution to the wind with her. To forgetting how she ran away when things got hard. I have to protect myself from the way being with her made me forget how easily she left and crowded my brain with happy, easy memories of us. I need to move on and pursing the possibilities with Hayden is a good way to do that.
So Hayden and I set up dinner for Thursday night, and I even ask her to be my plus-one for Colby’s wedding. That will keep me accountable for cultivating a relationship with her and pushing past my annoyance with the increased social media presence it will mean. I want a championship ring, and I want a lot of good years playing for the Pumas. It’s stupid to expect I can live all of that outside the spotlight.
My mom sends me several photos of Ava and me from college, and I’m glad I didn’t have to go through old photos of us on my laptop. That’s not the mindset I need to be in to remember that we’re just old friends now, nothing more. I keep my post mostly humorous and then try to put the whole thing out of my mind and refocus.