Page 33 of The Backup Plan
“When you’re moving around, it’s different,” Garrett said. “Standing still, it shows more. Especially in the white pants. But good for you, right? You just need to, you know... Just go fix it. We’ll wait.”
“While I appreciate the backhanded compliment, it’s just that the seams from the pants and my shorts can make it look like?—”
“Cam.” Shay’s lips twitched. “There’s a mirror over there, so maybe you could have a look at what Garrett means? And quickly, before Shelby gets here?”
He checked the mirror, and the flush that rose in his face when Garrett started talking drained from his cheeks. The old Cam, QB2, would be speechless and wheezing with laughter at the idea that he was so well-endowed he had to rearrange himself so his pants didn’t look pornographic. He had grown up in locker rooms where everyone had opinions about the relative value of length and girth, and what caused visibility issues. What he had was usually not a problem, and he was mortified to note that Garrett wasn’t entirely wrong about the way things were situated. Pippa was bright red and staring at him, and Shay appeared ready to run.
“Porter, really.”
He whipped around and shot a hand down to cover himself. He’d gladly let Garrett align things himself as long as he didn’t have to talk bulges with Shelby Wentz.
He nearly bit his tongue stopping himself from correcting her about his name. His new positive attitude was going to cost him blood soon.
“Hi, Shelby. I’m all set. What have you got for me?”
She sniffed and started at the top. “Your hair looks nice.”
“That was all Shay,” he said, anxious to give her credit with her boss.
“Why is your jersey so loose?”
“This is the size I have to have to get it over the pads.”
“Jordan’s jerseys were tighter around the middle.”
Garrett raised a handful of safety pins swiped from the supply table. “We pinned Jordan’s for the photos.”
Shelby beckoned to Garrett as she grabbed a handful of Cam’s jersey and pulled it taut against his side. “Pin it back like this. He’s a little chunky for a quarterback, so try and make it look like the pads are?—”
“Excuse me?”
Shelby released his jersey and stood, glaring.
“Could you please repeat to my face what you just said?” Cam demanded.
She crossed her arms. “I said, you’re a little chunky for a quarterback. Go benchmark yourself if you think I’m wrong.”
“I think you’re rude.”
“I’m getting my job done.”
“Unless your job directly concerns my fitness, conditioning, or nutrition, you are way out of your lane. Do you know what a pile of shit I’d be in if I said something like that to you?”
“Why are you so determined to be a pain in my ass? Jordan never complained.”
“You probably called him ‘lean’ and ‘athletic.’ For the record, the college recruiters referred to me as ‘sturdy, yet agile.’”
“Jesus, Porter. The magazine needed these photos weeks ago.”
“Then why didn’t you ask me to do this stupid shoot weeks ago? I’m not any cuter today.”
“Can we just get this done?”
“I don’t know, Susan, can we? I have practice in an hour. Do you want to tell my coaches why I’m late?”
Shelby threw up her hands. “It’s all about winning for you, isn’t it?”
“You know, according to the football program, it really is.”