Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Ramsey was practically hitched with Baby G now. I was still trying to wrap my head around that one—how I’d thought he was into Houston, but lo and behold, he was boning his best friend’s brother. It was more than sex, though. All I had to do was look at both of them to see that. I’d never seen Ramsey like this before, and I was happy as hell for him, even if it meant there was no chance I could talk him into going to a party like this with me. He probably wouldn’t have been up for it even before Garrett… G, on the other hand, he’d been jealous as fuck I was going and tried to talk Ramsey into letting me try to get them in.
I liked the Hollywood Hills, how it felt like you were in a small mountain neighborhood when the city was right below you, sprawling mansions dotting the tree-covered hillside.
I was pretty sure Whitt lived somewhere up here—not that I cared. We hadn’t talked since we took them out of the playoffs, only to lose in the next round. I’d thought about texting him a few times. My stalker ass knew his birthday had been a few weeks ago, and I’d wondered what he was doing, if his family had made time to see him, or at least call him, the way my family would do. I should have just done it. I didn’t know what had held me back other than not wanting him to know I was annoyingly obsessed with him ever since the Christmas Eve Blowjob—the CEB was something I tried not to think about, but to this day, I still did.
The driver pulled up to the white iron gate. There was a security guard under an awning, so I rolled down the window and said, “Malik Tucker,” before handing him my ID.
He checked his list, then replied, “You can get out and walk from here.”
Well, shit. This really was exclusive. They must not want to risk anyone, even drivers, sneaking in.
I thanked the driver and got out, tugging my bag with me. He pulled away while the security officer handed me my ID back. He unlocked the gate and told me to follow the sidewalk up to the house. It was surrounded by tropical-looking plants and palm trees all the way up to the mansion Young Tucker never would have believed he would get to be inside.
There was a man at the gate there, too. He checked my bag, then pointed, “Head around the house.”
It was a huge white stucco villa-style mansion. Music played from the backyard. There were two pools, one with a slide, more tropical foliage, waitresses and waiters walking around in basically nothing. Some of the women were topless, the guys in tiny Speedos, and, well, there was a cock, so it looked like they were walking around naked, too.
Hollywood was fucking awesome.
I grinned. Was Whitt there, I wondered before I wanted to punch myself in the face for caring. Something had to be done about how obsessively I thought about him.
I grabbed one of the glasses of champagne from the waiter with his dick hanging out and took a sip. There were people swimming and dancing and lots and lots of alcohol all around. Likely coke, too, but I wasn’t into that shit.
There were three sets of french doors along the back of the house, which were all open, more half-naked people manning the grills.
I went inside, where there were even more people and more drinks.
I hadn’t seen anyone I knew and likely wouldn’t outside of Alexander, but I didn’t much care about that kind of shit. I was always pretty comfortable in my skin and was good at meeting new people.
First things first, though, I wanted to change. Random people I’d never seen before said hi to me while I worked my way through the crowd to try and find a bathroom.
I finally found it, feeling a little overdressed in the board shorts I’d brought with me. I was happy with my body, but my ass wasn’t walking around in a Speedo. Naked…well, that was a maybe. We’d see how the day went.
I wasn’t back outside for more than five minutes when a beautiful blonde woman approached me, handing me a bottle of beer.
“You’re Malik Tucker.”
I smiled at her. “I feel at a disadvantage here. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Pfft,” came from behind me, and I turned around to see Whitt. He was wearing a pair of simple black shorts and no shirt, lots of tan skin on display. He had a patch of hair on his chest, abs that should be illegal, even though I saw them on other players all the time, and scruff along his jaw. He was fucking hot and cocky, as always.