Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: The Perfect Distraction

The heavy, suffocating silence in the VIP lounge felt completely toxic.

Mason stared at the glowing tablet screen. The drafted email sat there, perfectly typed, ready to destroy the only thing Audrey cared about more than anything else. Her journalism career.

He could fight for his own life. He had just gone behind the backs of the most powerful men in the WFA to secure his own professional future. He was not afraid of Director Hayes or the academy.

But he could not gamble with Audrey’s life.

If that email went out, she was ruined. She would be expelled for ethical fraud. She would never write a front-page feature again. She would lose the sports bulletin, Mrs. Higgins, and her entire dream.

Mason slowly looked up from the tablet.

Elena was watching him. She did not look angry anymore. She just looked entirely victorious. She knew exactly what she had just done. She had found the one thing he cared about more than football, and she was holding it hostage.

"You are bluffing," Mason said. His voice was a low, desperate whisper.

"Test me," Elena smiled smoothly. She rested her perfectly manicured hand on the edge of the glass table. "Walk out that door, Mason. Go back to campus. See how fast my father defunds her entire department."

Mason’s jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

His massive hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He wanted to punch a hole straight through the hotel wall. The intense, burning rage inside his chest was completely blinding.

But he couldn’t move. The cage was completely locked.

"What do you want?" Mason asked. The defeat in his voice tasted like pure ash.

Elena’s smile widened. She picked up the tablet and turned the screen off.

"I want exactly what we agreed on," Elena instructed. "I want the perfect public relationship. I want you to wear the black suit. I want you to walk downstairs right now, hold my hand, and smile for the London scouts."

Mason stared at her. He felt entirely sick to his stomach.

"And if I do?" Mason asked coldly.

"If you do, the email stays in the drafts," Elena promised. "Your little intern gets to keep playing reporter, and you get to keep your WFA transfer deal. Everyone wins."

Mason looked down at his heavy black duffel bag sitting on the carpet. He had been so close. He had been literally minutes away from grabbing a taxi to the airport.

He slowly bent down and picked up the bag.

"I will be down in ten minutes," Mason stated flatly.

He turned his back on her and walked out of the luxury lounge.

Mason stood in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing the crisp, expensive black suit. His dyed black hair was styled perfectly. He looked exactly like the top-tier prospect he was supposed to be.

He hated the guy in the mirror.

He pulled his new phone out of his pocket. His hands were shaking slightly. He opened his contacts and hit the call button next to Audrey’s name.

He pressed the phone to his ear. He closed his eyes.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hi, you’ve reached Audrey. Leave a message."

The automated voicemail beeped loudly.

Mason let out a ragged, uneven breath. He pulled the phone away from his ear. She wasn’t answering. It was almost nine o’clock at night. She was probably editing articles in the journalism office, or sitting on the rug in her apartment with Chloe.

He wanted to hear her voice so badly it physically hurt. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he was trapped.

But he couldn’t. If he told her the truth, Audrey would tell him to let Elena send the email. Audrey would sacrifice her own career just to set him free. And Mason completely refused to let her do that.

Knock, knock.

"Calloway," a security guard called from the hallway. "Miss Hayes is waiting by the elevators."

Mason locked his phone. He shoved it deep into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

"I am coming," Mason yelled back.

He looked at the mirror one last time. He locked his jaw. He forced a completely blank, unreadable mask onto his face. He turned off the bathroom light and walked out the door to face the flashing cameras.

The campus convenience store was overly bright and smelled entirely like artificial lemon cleaner.

Audrey pushed her wire shopping basket down the narrow aisle. It was late. The store was mostly empty, save for a few tired students buying instant ramen.

Audrey was not buying food. Her basket was completely filled with canned drinks.

She had three cans of cold brew coffee. She had four tall cans of bright green energy drinks. She had two bottles of iced tea. She was stocking up for a massive, sleepless night of editing.

Her phone was sitting safely in the bottom of her coat pocket. It was turned completely on silent. She didn’t want to hear from Daisy. She didn’t want to hear from Ben. She just wanted absolute, uninterrupted quiet.

Audrey turned down the last aisle.

She stopped pushing her basket. Her eyes landed on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator section.

Sitting right behind the glass door was a tall, thin can with a pale pink label.

Audrey blinked. It was a discontinued peach-lychee sparkling soda. She had not seen one of those in almost a year. The campus store must have found an old shipment in the back room.

A tiny spark of excitement pushed through her heavy, miserable mood.

Audrey stepped forward. She reached for the metal handle of the glass door. She pulled it open and reached her hand down to the bottom shelf to grab the pink can.

At the exact same moment, someone else reached for it.

Their hands collided.

Audrey gasped slightly in surprise. Her fingers brushed against warm, slightly rough knuckles.

She quickly pulled her hand back.

"I apologize."

The voice was incredibly soft. It did not boom across the aisle. It was quiet, polite, and entirely calm.

Audrey looked up.

A guy was standing right next to her. He had a canvas messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He was wearing a faded, oversized knit sweater that looked incredibly comfortable.

He did not look like a football player. He wasn’t built like a massive brick wall. He was tall, but he was lean.

Audrey looked at his face.

He had curly, shoulder-length brown hair that looked deliberately messy. His skin was deeply tanned, like he spent most of his time reading outside in the sun. But the most striking thing about him was his eyes.

They were bright, vivid green.

He looked incredibly handsome, but in a very relaxed, effortless, artistic kind of way.

"Sorry," Audrey said quickly. She took a step back, gesturing to the refrigerator shelf. "I didn’t see you there. You can have it."

"No, please," the guy smiled. It was a warm, entirely gentle smile. It completely reached his green eyes. "You clearly saw it first. I was just reaching without looking."

He stepped back, giving her plenty of space to grab the drink.

Audrey hesitated. She looked at the single pink can left on the shelf.

"Are you sure?" Audrey asked. "They haven’t stocked this flavor in months. It is basically a rare artifact."

The guy let out a soft, genuine laugh. "I know. It is my favorite. But I already have two energy drinks in my bag. If I drink that soda too, I am going to vibrate straight through my dorm room ceiling."

Audrey smiled. It was the first real smile she had managed all day.

"Midterm prep?" Audrey guessed.

"Art history paper," the guy nodded. He glanced down at her shopping basket, which was overflowing with caffeine. "Looks like you are gearing up for a war yourself."

"Journalism layout," Audrey sighed. She finally reached down and grabbed the pink can. She tossed it into her wire basket. "My senior editor is currently having a mental breakdown about fonts. I need all the caffeine I can get."

The guy tilted his head slightly. The green eyes studied her face with a quiet, polite curiosity.

"Journalism," he repeated softly. "That makes sense. You look like someone who pays a lot of attention to the details."

Audrey felt a strange, tiny flutter in her chest. It wasn’t the massive, overwhelming panic she felt around Mason. It was just a quiet, pleasant surprise.

"I try to," Audrey said.

"I’m Julian, by the way," he said. He did not step into her personal space. He stayed perfectly planted, just offering a friendly introduction.

"Audrey," she replied.

"Well, Audrey," Julian smiled, adjusting the strap of his canvas bag. "Good luck with your layout war. I hope the rare artifact helps."

"Good luck with your art history paper," Audrey said.

Julian gave her a small, polite nod. He turned around and walked down the aisle, heading toward the checkout registers.

Audrey stood in the cold aisle. She watched him walk away.

He was quiet. He was polite. He was completely detached from the chaotic, high-stakes world of the WFA and the athletic complex. He was exactly the kind of normal, easy distraction she needed right now.

Audrey reached into her coat pocket. She pulled out her phone to check the time.

The screen lit up brightly in the dim aisle.

1 Missed Call: Mason.

Audrey stared at the notification. Her heart gave a sudden, painful squeeze.

He had called her. Why was he calling her? Was he calling to gloat? Was he calling to tell her about his new transfer deal? Or was he calling to finally make the breakup completely official so he could move on with Elena?

Audrey locked her phone screen. She did not listen to the voicemail. She did not call him back.

She dropped the phone back into her pocket. She gripped the handle of her wire basket tightly and walked toward the registers.

She had made her choice. She was moving on. And maybe, just maybe, a quiet guy with green eyes and an art history paper was the perfect place to start.