Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
A lot.
We had almost the entire week off after winning the first round of the play-offs against the Spartans in game five, so other than light practices, I pretty much spent my days in the gym or tooling around town. If Simone was working, I’d lounge at home. If she was home, I’d go out.
This worked pretty well until I thought she’d left for work tonight but didn’t.
I’d been talking to Lucas, which I’d done more of in the last three days since he and Stephanie had broken up than probably the entire two months we’d lived together. He wasn’t complaining, wasn’t sharing, but he was just needing a connection to something solid, I think.
So we talked about hockey, of all things. We told each other about our respective careers and goals. Not surprisingly, we both took the offers from the Cold Fury because we wanted a Stanley Cup under our belt and they offered the best chance this year. I had another very important reason for coming to the East Coast, but I didn’t share that.
The conversation has been easy and light, and I actually don’t feel corralled into being something to someone that I’m not feeling. One might even say it’s the first real, tentative friendship I’ve had, and that’s probably only made possible by the fact that Lucas is so deep into his misery he really doesn’t want or need anything more.
He left tonight to go hang out at Max and Jules’s. We have game one of the second round tomorrow, so everyone on the team is trying to relax as much as they can.
For some, like Lucas, it means being with family.
For others, like me, it usually means sitting by myself in a dive bar or a strip joint, nursing a few drinks and enjoying the solitude that you can only get from such a place.
Just as he was leaving, I casually asked where Simone was. He’d given me a distracted, “Work, I think.” Yes, it was distracted, but I didn’t think it wasn’t true. He’s just been scatterbrained lately, and as far as I knew, Simone either worked or she was here annoying the fuck out of me.
The minute Lucas left, I went into the sanctity of my little bedroom and turned on the TV I’d gotten out of storage a few days ago. I had my laptop hooked up through the HDMI cable, and I’m a dude, so I put on some porn, turning the volume down low because I hate the fucking cheesy music and terrible acting.
I was two minutes in, stroking a raging hard-on, when I heard the front door open and froze with my hand gripping my dick. Rather than deflate at the intrusion, it got fucking harder, as I realized it was Simone walking in. I could tell by her light footsteps, and then I could hear her rummaging in Lucas’s room where she kept her suitcases. Another moment passed, my dick was still in a stranglehold, and I heard the shower turn on.
Leaning back on my pillow, I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned. I also let my cock go and shut the TV off. I couldn’t be in the house with her, so I quickly rolled off the bed and got dressed.
I was out of the house before the water even turned off.
I drove around without any idea of where the fuck I should go, but then pulled into a new bar called Lulu’s that opened a few months ago. I’d heard it was a loose play on Hooters, except the girls were actually more scantily dressed. This sounded right up my alley, because perhaps what I needed to do was just fuck someone so I could have at least some time to myself where I wouldn’t be thinking about Simone.
I’m on my second drink and I just finished a burger with some fries. My waitress—a cute blonde named Billie, the name written on her right breast with a marker—comes to clear my table. The outfits these girls wear are so fucking skimpy you can’t even pin a name tag on them, so they write their name on the swell of their chest. I have to say, I’m never going to Hooters again. You cannot beat the miniscule bikini tops they wear, which are the tiniest swatches of triangular fabric in neon pink. Their bottoms are something between short shorts and underwear, riding low on their flat bellies and high up their ass cheeks. Fucking sexy as hell.
“Want another drink?” Billie asks with a flirty smile. She’s pretty and not overt, but if I wanted to push something with her, I think she’d be into it.
“I’m good,” I tell her with a smile. I don’t give those often, but she’s been unobtrusive, and that’s what I need tonight.
“Well, okay,” she says cheerily, but she leans in a little closer. “I’m going to get your check as I’m off duty soon. If you need anything at all, just let me know.”