Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

distract you. If it comes up, and it probably will, we can play it two ways: ignore it and make it known you were on the outs, anyway, or be a brokenhearted lover playing the sympathy card." Phil paused again. "I recommend the former."
    "Well, yeah, that's the truth," Brad replied with some exasperation.
    "Good good," Phil said quickly. "It'll be good to give them something else to think about. Let's hope the drama of the game tomorrow can keep some attention away from this sex tape shit. Just try not to let them distract you. Kick some ass tomorrow."
    "Yeah, well, I've always been in good with the press. Since it's the Railers' bye week, Cam said he'd be in the stands tomorrow, too, and they love him. How bad could it really be?"
    ****
    It was actually worse than anything he'd ever expected.
    Not the game. The game went beautifully. The Lightning's defense crumbled in the face of the Diamonds' dominating offensive line, and the New York Diamonds sailed to a 34-7 victory to grab the divisional title. The Los Angeles Lightning turned out to be the least of Brad's problems.
    The moment he had stepped out of his car, he'd been the focus of flashing cameras, and, from the bold ones amongst the crowds, he'd also been on the receiving end of questions called out that had alluded to Katja's extracurricular activities.
    They really were like vultures circling around a kill.
    His interactions with the press over the past few years had largely been positive or, at the very least, neutral experiences. Their prurient interest in Katja's very public sexploits, his and her supposed relationship, and their snide insinuations that he hadn't been able to "rein her in" came as a complete shock. Even with his attempts to play down the state of their now non-existent relationship, he was still reeling from the post-game press conference that he'd just given. Considering his team had just clinched the number one spot in the Eastern Division in the last game of the season, he'd expected interest in the impressive eighty-six percent completion rate he'd just passed for or, at the very least, a general interest in the dramatic way the Eastern Division had played out.
    But no, they wanted to know about her sex tape, what he thought of it, and whether he had known about it, which was a stupid question. If he'd known, would they still have been very publicly dating up until recently? Actually, they hadn't even technically broken up at this point, but the fact that there was a sex tape was enough for Brad to figure that a face-to-face "fuck you" wasn't necessary.
    It hadn't helped that, in the last eighteen hours, another tape had surfaced featuring Katja and an up-and-coming rap artist.
    Brad ran the towel over his hair and tossed it with more force than necessary into the bin by the showers. Dragging his feet, he made his way to his locker, where he began pulling on dark jeans and a soft grey polo.
    It was humiliating. That's what it was. And he dreaded the media circus that awaited him outside those locker room doors. Who knows what might've happened in the span of time during the game? Maybe there was a tape of Katja doing midget porn? He scowled. Right now, nothing would surprise him.
    At that moment, a burst of noise interrupted his thoughts. Glancing up, he saw Cam Hunter enter through the locker room doors to a chorus of questions and exclamations that sought to catch his attention. He waved them back and shut the doors, turning to walk towards Brad with a grimace on his face.
    "Hey, man," Brad said with some relief. "It's sure good to see a friendly face."
    "Figured that'd be the case. Don't pay them any attention, Brad," Cam said dismissively, clasping Brad's hand in their usual greeting. "Let's just get you out of here, yeah?"
    Brad heaved a sigh. "Yeah." After he finished packing his duffle, he threw on his coat, and they made their way to the door. "Hey, you wanna come over? I need to decompress, and it'd be nice to have company."
    Cam looked pleased with the invitation, and a grin spread across his face. "Sure, I'd love to," he said, coloring slightly.
    Pausing before the closed doors and hearing the rustle of the restless pack of media hounds outside, Cam turned to Brad. "Ready?"
    Brad grunted. "Yeah, I guess."
    Cam rested an arm across Brad's shoulders and gave it a companionable squeeze. "Hey, you played a fantastic game today. Your pass completion was off-the-charts, and that play at the end of the half with the quarterback