CHAPTER 33 JOLENE

"I need your help. I'm in a lot of trouble." I hear Asher's voice, and clearly he thinks Lincoln is alone and he's confessing something to his brother who just happens to be his head coach.

I don't want to listen to them. It's a private conversation not meant for me, and certainly not meant for a reporter, so I step back into Lincoln's room even though Asher's voice carries up the hallway.

And I hear everything he says next.

"I'm in deep with some bookies. I need money, and I don't know where else to turn."

Holy shit.

My eyes widen at his confession as my stomach twists.

"What were you betting on?" Lincoln demands.

Asher clears his throat loudly. "Games. I made a shit load when we won, but I bet on the second game and we lost, and, well…here I am."

"What the fuck, man?" Lincoln practically roars.

Oh my God. I should not be overhearing this. What do I do?

I panic, and I freeze.

I can't know this stuff. I'm with the media, and I promised Marcus when I confessed that Lincoln and I have a secret relationship that I would report fairly and honestly, and now this breaking story falls right into my lap?

I can't report on this. I can't. It would only worsen the feud between our families and put both Asher's and Lincoln's careers in jeopardy, and I won't do that.

Besides, Lincoln will do the right thing. He has to. I realize it's his brother, but it's also his team at stake here. It's his responsibility to report player misconduct, and I just don't see him as the guy who sweeps these things under the rug.

"Listen to me, Asher," I hear Lincoln say. He lowers his voice, and I can't make out his next words.

I draw in a deep breath and slowly exhale, and I wait upstairs until I hear the front door open and close again.

"Who was that?" I ask brightly when I walk down the stairs, and I know it's too bright considering what just happened, but I'm not that good of an actress.

"A player," he grunts, and he really thinks I didn't hear a thing.

I feel a twist in my back that he didn't tell me the truth—or, at the very least, that he's lying by omission.

"Ready for that glass of wine?" he asks, and I nod. "Start without me. I have to take care of something. I'll be right back." He disappears down the hall toward his office, and I hear the door click shut as I head into the kitchen to wait for him.

He returns when my glass is almost empty, and it's not because I've been chugging it.

"Sorry. That took longer than I expected." He must've called Jack to tell him what's going on, and I feel a sense of relief that he did the right thing.

I still don't admit I heard everything, though.

He picks up his tumbler and drains the whiskey in it in a few gulps.

"I'm exhausted. You ready to go to sleep?" he asks.

I abandon my wine and follow him upstairs. He takes a quick shower and meets me in bed, and then he flicks off the light without much more than a quick kiss and a muttered goodnight, and I'm left to wonder why he even invited me here in the first place tonight.

I spend the night chewing over the information I know that he's not sharing with me, and I hardly sleep at all because of it.

There's enough between us already. We don't need yet another mountain to climb or another earthquake to widen the chasm. Yet I already feel it happening.

When morning dawns and his alarm goes off, I'm awake—already or still, I'm not sure. I wait for him to make the first move, and he does. He sighs, shuts off his alarm, and gets out of bed without a word, without a kiss or a hug or a touch.

Disappointment fills me. He's going to let it come between us, and maybe this is when I should admit I heard everything.

I hear his shower turn on, and I debate what to do.

I should head home, or join him in the shower, but I feel like I'm in a haze and I don't know how to handle it.

I've been lying in bed with my promise to Marcus running through my head. When he asked me what I'd do if I ran into something Lincoln wouldn't want public, I made a promise.

If it needs to be made public, I assure you, it will be.

This doesn't need to be made public. But is ignoring the fact that I know sweeping a big problem under the rug? In particular when I know that Lincoln knows and he might not be doing anything about it?

It's a bad position to be in, and I think not for the first time that maybe Rivera would've been better suited to this position.

I earned it, though, and I will figure out what to do with what I know.

A text comes through from Marcus while I try to piece everything together, and his words only further press my guilt into my chest.

Marcus: Mom is doing well. She'll be in the hospital another few days and then we can work on getting her moved. Thanks for all your hard work at the office. I'll be out another two weeks or so but I'm glad to know you and Rivera are playing nice.

I'm in the process of drafting a reply when another text comes through. This one, however, is from the devil himself, Ryan Rivera.

Rivera: Another two weeks with me in charge. I'm guessing you don't want the scandal that would come with publishing these photos, right? You should really be more careful.

He sends a handful of photos from last night. They show me getting into Sam's car. In my haste to get to Lincoln, I guess I forgot to pull up my hood.

The next one shows me getting out at Lincoln's place and slinging my duffel over my shoulder. Another shows me walking up to the door, and the final two show him greeting me last night when he hauled me into his arms and kissed me the moment the door opened.

Another text comes through as I study the last two photos.

It's clear to see it's me with Lincoln. There must be some telephoto lens in use, and my stomach twists at the thought that he's been having me followed just so he could catch me doing something wrong.

Rivera: Unless you want a scandal on your hands, you need to resign your position as team correspondent.

I flip through the photos again.

As far as anyone knows, Lincoln is dating my best friend…yet I'm showing up on his doorstep and kissing him late at night.

Not only would this make me look like a homewrecker, thus killing my credibility with my viewers, but it would confirm the accusations that Lincoln is a cheater, and it would reveal our secret relationship to both our families…and on top of that, I promised to report with honesty and integrity, and now I'm holding onto this massive secret that could put not one but two of Eddie Nash's sons' careers in jeopardy if anyone ever found out, further deepening the divide between our families all because of me.

I can't let Rivera break this scandal. I don't want to lose my job, but I have to protect Lincoln. I have to protect myself. I have to protect our families.

It looks like I'm out of options.

TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK 4, OVERTIME