Crossing Lines

Chapter 4 - Hayden

What a disaster of a day it's been.

It was full-blown chaos, starting with the random phone in my hand and the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Mila's brown doe eyes and the way her cheeks flushed when I kissed her plump lips, her whole body reacting so beautifully to my touch...

"Goddammit, Hayden. How could you lose your phone?"

Hank's voice interrupts my reverie. He called an emergency meeting, and now I have to sit in front of the prick as he scolds me like a child. The smug expression on his face makes me want to throw my hot coffee on it, but obviously, I can't do that. I'm compelled to work with this excuse of a social media agent, and I can't deny I hate every fucking second of it. "I didn't lose it. Someone else just has it." I don't even try to suppress the annoyance in my voice when I roll my eyes at him.

"That's the same thing! How are you supposed to keep up your social media appearance if you can't update regularly?"

I have to admit, the way he's seething fills me with pure complacency. I never liked that part of the job, but being drafted by the L.A. Lions and moving up to the NFL meant it's not all about the sport anymore. It's business, fame, and glory. "I'm sure the people will survive for a week without me, Hank."

Suddenly he gets up, slamming this stupid-ass manila folder he always carries around on the table, exerting his power as usual. He's one of these guys who feels intimidated by someone like me, someone who worked his way up the list instead of letting his daddy work things out for him. The only way to ease the broken ego of someone like him is being a dickhead, obviously.

"They might, but you won't have a contract anymore if you don't get the feedback we need. And I say you have to please the people, show them what you got."

"Damn, even I feel objectified, and I'm not on trial here," my best friend Kilian Rogers mumbles under his breath, and I smirk at him as he bumps my fist under the table.

We've been friends since middle school, have always stuck together, supporting each other with every step we took. And now we're both living the dream, playing in the NFL for one of the biggest teams in history.

"I don't give a shit about how you feel, Kilian. I give a shit about the numbers, and I can already see them plummeting if Ice over here won't do as I say," Hank speaks up again.

"I already told you. I'll reset my passwords and just continue on posting later."

"Yeah, you've already done some damage, though. I expected some celeb pics from that Vanity party. Instead, you lose your damn phone."

"There's not much we can do about that now, is there?" My voice rises in volume from the pure hatred running through my veins right now. This fucker has been riling me up for weeks, but it seems like he's on a warpath today.

Kill bumps my shoulder, giving me a well-known look to calm the fuck down. He knows as much as I do that Hank has ties with the Lions' CFO, and his connections could sabotage our careers.

"Look, Hank. I'll take care of it, alright?"

He regards me for a second before rolling his eyes at me, and I swear the urge to kick this dickhead's balls grows with every second. "I expect as much. I want a report by the end of the day."

I shoot up, eager to get on the field and release some of that pent-up energy during training. I don't even say goodbye to Hank before I rush out of the room, Kill right on my heels.

"Bro, I swear that fucker is irritating me more and more with every second I have to look at him," he comments while shaking his head.

"Yeah, you're telling me."