Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Queenie is the opposite. Which I love. She’ll tell me exactly what she needs and how she needs it. And she seems to really like that I seek direction from her. I can only learn her body if she shares with me what makes her feel the best.
“Can I ask you something without offending you?”
“As long as you’re not disrespecting Queenie, sure.” I tie a windsor knot without looking in a mirror.
“Are you, like, missionary only?”
“Pardon?”
“Positions. Do you have more than one you like?”
I meet my best friend’s questioning gaze and consider how much information I want to give him about my private, personal life. “I can appreciate all views.”
His eyebrows climb into his hairline. “I thought I knew you.”
“You do know me.” I shrug into my suit jacket and check for any lint I missed.
“Queenie’s good for you, though, because this isn’t a conversation we would’ve had a year ago.”
“I’m not being disrespectful.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “No, man, but with Jessica there wasn’t ever a conversation, about anything. She was an accessory. Queenie is a partner. She’s the olive to your pineapple.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It’s actually not that bad on pizza, but you need hot peppers, bacon, ham, and pepperoni to balance it all out. The pizza isn’t the point. It’s that you found someone who lights a fire under your ass. It’s a good thing. That’s all I’m saying. And multiples are the fucking bomb.” Bishop makes a fist and approximates a jerking-off motion before he realizes Rook is watching him. “It’s good for everyone.”
“Especially my ego,” I agree.
“Fucking shit!” Corey barks from across the room. He punches at his phone and brings it to his ear. “What in the actual fuck, Sissy? I told you I’d take care of it. What the hell were you thinking?” He screws his eyes shut and exhales heavily through his nose. “This is going to be a nightmare to manage. What? No. Don’t do that!” he snaps, then changes his tone. “Come on, baby, that’s a bad idea. Where are you now? I’ll come get you. We’ll figure out how to fix this.” He pushes up off the bench and stalks out of the locker room.
“I wonder what that was about,” Bishop mutters.
“Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise.” We gather up our things, and Rook falls into step with us.
“If there were two people who deserved each other, it’s Slater and Sissy,” Bishop says. “She’s the perfect nightmare for Corey to end up with.”
“The douche factor and the crazy pair nicely, that’s for sure,” Rook says. “At least she’s not trying to siphon jizz out of used condoms anymore.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I made the mistake of hooking up with her once back in my rookie days, obviously long before I met Lainey,” Rook replies, his expression a mix of embarrassment and regret.
“Oh, man, I remember that! Didn’t she fake a pregnancy? Took pictures on social media and tried to blackmail you or whatever?” Bishop asks.
“That she did. Used the plaster casts from her sister’s baby belly to stage photos.”
“That’s just . . .”
“Certifiable?” Rook supplies.
“Yeah.” I can’t imagine getting involved with someone that unbalanced. It’s why I’d never had a one-night stand until Queenie. It obviously turned out a lot different than either of us expected, but it could’ve gone very badly had she been a Sissy.
We leave the arena and head across the street to the bar we usually meet up at after home games. I decide tonight I’m going to indulge in one of those fun drinks Queenie and I had that first night we met, between the shots. The white russians. Those were tasty.
My phone buzzes in my pocket repeatedly as we enter the loud, hectic bar. I slip it out of my pocket, wanting to send Queenie a message and find out where they’re sitting so we’re not searching the whole place for them.
“What the heck?” Message after message comes in from my family chat. I open the feed and try to make sense of what’s going on, but they’re coming in too fast.
“Oh shit, I think we’ve got some trouble.” Bishop elbows me in the side.
I look up from my phone and follow his gaze across the crowded pub to the bar. Where my girlfriend is being yelled at by Slater’s pregnant fiancée.
CHAPTER 22
BROKEN VOWS
Queenie
I cannot believe this is happening.
Actually, I can. Because my life is one big shitstorm after another, so why wouldn’t I get called out in a bar, in front of my friends, and a bunch of strangers, by a pregnant woman?
“You had your chance, and he doesn’t want you. He wants me.” Sissy, Corey’s lunatic fiancée, points to her chest and then waves her hand around in the air. “You see this diamond? He spent over fifty thousand on this! He told me he didn’t even get you a ring at all, so that shows you exactly how important you were to him. I’m the one who’s having his baby, not you!” she screams.