Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I can’t hear what’s coming out of Erik’s mouth though, since I’ve got to finish up this chapter in a Stephen King-esque end-of-the-world tale. The narrator is sick. But not as sick as the world is in this horror story. As birds spiral out of the sky, ready to peck everyone to death I’m sure, Erik stops in front of my machine and motions to my earbuds.
So much for finding out if the birds are on a rampage or not.
I pop out my earbuds as I lower the speed on the machine. I’m almost done anyway. Andrei, never one to miss a moment, takes out his earbuds too as I say, “No, Erik, you can’t play with your Switch till after the game, and only if you get a win.”
Though we all need a win, to be honest.
Erik doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he thrusts his phone at me. “Dude. Lisette said you’re dating that girl who came to the game.”
I flinch. What the hell? Then, I peer at the screen. Holy shit. That’s a hot photo of Trina and me at the dog park the other night, along with Nacho hightailing it out of the tunnel.
Hot as in it sure looks like we’re doing more than just talking. Someone—maybe a jogger, maybe a walker, maybe the dog trainer person—snapped a shot when Trina was touching my face post dog kiss. Innocent dog kiss.
But I’m gazing into her eyes like I’m planning to devour her. If a picture says a thousand words, this one says I want to rail you tonight.
Well, the camera doesn’t lie.
But the caption takes a lot of liberties.
Sea Dogs team captain is romancing VIP guest and her pup.
The Internet is fast. How the hell do you get from VIP guest to dating like that? “That’s presumptuous,” I say, though in all fairness, Trina and I got from VIP suite to VIP guest in the bedroom in one night.
“And Lisette said she’s been texting you about meeting some of her friends, but she’s not sitting you at the singles table anymore. She wants you to bring your new girlfriend to the wedding,” he says, and it’s clear this is a demand delivered straight from the bossiest of bossy cousins in the world.
I’m not usually speechless but there’s a first for everything because…new girlfriend? My cousin decided I have a girlfriend because the Internet said so? “She’s not my girlfriend,” I say, but that sounds weak as it comes out of my mouth.
I mean, of course she’s not my girlfriend. But denying that she is feels a little shitty too.
Ledger curls the weight for another rep. “So, you take out a hot VIP guest one night and the next night you play with her dog, and you’re not seeing her? What are you doing? Moonlighting as a dog walker, Weston?”
“Pucks and Pups is your new side hustle?” Andrei asks as he moves to a mat on the floor to stretch his hamstrings.
“That’s a good name,” I say, dodging the girlfriend issue.
Erik clears his throat. “Lisette said she wants to meet her since she’s been trying to set you up forever, and she can’t believe you did it on your own.”
Jesus. “What am I? Anathema to the ladies?” I ask, and oh, shit, that’s a Ryker word. A Trina word. Those nerds are rubbing off on me.
“My fiancée is sending me text after text. I gotta tell her something,” Erik says, a little demanding, a little desperate. I hardly ever hear him that way.
Ah hell, I have to help a teammate out.
I hit end on the workout. “Gimme a second,” I say. I can’t rope Trina into this without her permission, and I definitely don’t want to get roped into another Lisette setup.
I head out into the hall, still a little stunned at the situation stirred up by a photo. I take a deep breath then I hit dial, and as soon as she answers, I hear mild concern in her voice. “What’s up? Everything okay with Nacho?”
“He’s perfect,” I say, quickly reassuring her. “I’m at training now, but before I left, he said he needed to take an afternoon nap to get ready for his date with a throw pillow tonight.”
“Oh, good. Though I thought it was a carpet he was seeing.”
“He’s double teaming, evidently. First the pillow, then the carpet.” I hesitate then dive in. “Anyway, I need your help with something,” I say, wincing. I prefer to be the one helping than the one asking.
“Sure,” she replies easily. “What is it?”
I scratch my jaw. “My cousin is getting married to my teammate, the goalie. This Sunday. And since you came to the game, and since my cousin saw some pic of us at the dog park—”
“There’s a pic of us from the dog park on Saturday night? Who took it?” She doesn’t sound alarmed yet. Just concerned, understandably so.