Fake the Game (VANCOUVER TRIDENTS #2) by Julia Jarrett EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Julia Jarrett
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Maverick
Hospitals are hell. They’re too bright, too loud, and too full of
desperation with a sprinkling of hope.
Two emotions that never mix well.
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I don’t fucking want to be here. I don’t want to put on a fake smile and
try to be all motivational and shit for these kids. Hell, no one should be
motivated by me at the best of times, much less right now. I don’t want to
be surrounded by people looking at me with stars in their eyes, thinking I’m
some amazing person.
I don’t want to be surrounded by people, period.
I want to be at home, in the dark, by myself. My ribs hurt, my collarbone
hurts, and I don’t fucking want to be here.
When my brother who is also my agent told me to show up at the
children’s hospital this morning to sign some merch and take photos, I
laughed at him. But Colin just ignored me, pointing out the fact that I don’t
have the luxury of saying no right now. I gotta kiss some ass and do
whatever the fuck the team asks me to do while I’m on the injured list to try
and save face. So here I am.
Even if I’m not the player they usually ask to
come to the children’s hospital. Ever since my accident four weeks ago, all
bets are off. I’m at the mercy of my agent and the media relations people
from the Vancouver Tridents who are trying to salvage what’s left of my
image. They say jump, I say how high.
Some teenage-looking kid walks up to me with a bald head and tubes
poking out of his shirt. “When you gonna be back on the field?” he asks,
getting straight to it.
I shift on my feet, wishing like hell I could answer him. But fuck if I
know. Doc said eight to ten weeks, if I rehab properly. It’s already been four
weeks and I’m going fucking crazy.
“Dunno,” I answer curtly. Then in my head, I hear the voice of Willow
Lawson, director of the media relations team, chastising me and reminding
me to put on my game face. There’s not a lot of people that could get away
with that kind of shit, but Willow’s good people. So I give what I hope is a
convincing smile. “Gotta take care of my body, y’know?”
“Why did you crash that car, anyway?”
You think I fucking did that on purpose? But I don’t say that. Willow
should be proud. All that goddamn media training she forces on us might be
paying off.
“I made a mistake. Everyone does sometimes, just gotta do better next
time.” There. That’s a good bullshit answer. But the kid isn’t buying it.
“My dad said it was an illegal street race.”
Swear to fucking God, if this kid wasn’t fighting cancer, I’d walk away
right now. Last thing I need is some punk-ass kid coming here and telling
me everything I already know about my most recent fuckup. I normally like
kids. But right now, the lack of filter is not working for me.
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