Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Makena: That does sound like a win, win! But you’re sure he’s nice? Like…for real? He’s not just playing nice while he tries to get into your pants? Not to be a hater, but you know how men are. And I think you underestimate what a gorgeous, irresistible creature you are. You’re basically like a supermodel, Elly, without even trying.
Elly: Oh, stop! I am not.
Makena: No, seriously, girl. If I were you, I would assume every man I met had a “get in my pants” agenda. Even the gay ones. Sometimes, an allegedly gay man will surprise you and go bisexual out of nowhere. Remember Barry, the sculptor? I thought he was my gay bestie wingman , only to have him whip his penis out on my couch and offer to give me the best penetrative orgasm of my life after a few margaritas. Remember that?
Elly: I do remember, and I still think you should have gone for it. Barry was gorgeous and didn’t seem like the kind of guy to make a claim like that unless he was sure he could deliver.
You guys could have been friends with benefits!
And then you could have told me what the “best penetrative orgasm of your life” felt like because I’m pretty sure I’ve never had one. Not even an average one.
Makena: Ugh, I know. And I hate that for you. One of your lovers should have gotten you there with his by now, girl. But it’s still a hard no for me on Barry. Hiding your interest in more than friendship for six months only to whip out an uninvited peen is a dealbreaker. It gave me the ick. He was also a huge slut, and I was afraid of catching cooties. I have enough going on right now without cooties.
Elly: Fair. And you’re right, no peen should be whipped anywhere without an invitation. Though Uninvited Peen is a fantastic band name.
Makena: Totally. The merch would be killer. So, speaking of peen, how long until you invite the roommate’s to a party in your vagina?
Elly: What?! Omg, what are you talking about? He’s a friend, Mack. A NEW friend. I barely know him.
Makena: Barely knowing a guy never stopped him from melting a girl’s panties, and this man is totally melting yours. I can tell. You’re being cagey and weird and a little bit swoony.
You have a crush on your roommate, and he’s GOING to get invited to the vagina party!
You might as well deal with it and start adding that into your long-term plan. And if you need a place to crash when the roommate banging goes awry, you can stay with me, thought honestly a few of my friends from the catering gig might be a better fit. If I’d known you were open to having a roommate, I would have set you up with one of them!
That way, you could have kept things with the roommate more casual until you were ready to move in together and make romance full-time.
Elly: You are a silly, silly woman, and I have to go. I have jobs to apply for, and then I have to run by the store before I pick Mimi up from school so I can cook dinner for my new friend who is totally just a friend.
Makena: And I’m the most famous chef in New Orleans and will soon have my own show on the Food Network.
Elly: Congrats! I always knew good things would happen for you. You’re so talented.
Makena: Argh. I hate you. But I also love you, so I’ll wait to pester you until Sunday. Meet you in the northeast corner of the square at eight?
Elly: Better make it seven. I promised Mimi we’d get to the brioche while it was still warm.
Makena: God, I love that girl. Any child willing to get up early on a weekend for a fresh pastry is my kind of people. See you both bright and early Sunday morning. Then, we’ll take Mimi to the playground to frolic off her sugar rush so I can interrogate you in private.
Elly: I’ll be looking forward to it.
Makena: Me too!!! LOL.
Chapter
Thirteen
GRAMMERCY
Thursday Night…
This is it.
Opening night, what we’ve been working our asses off for since the day a bunch of strangers met at training camp a few weeks ago and formed a brand new team.
The Voodoo locker room thrums with the kind of nervous energy that accompanies a group of pro-athletes about to make history—or prove everyone who thought an NHL team in the Deep South was a dumbass idea right.
Season ticket sales aren’t looking great, but the arena will be full tonight. It’s like my brother said on the phone during our season-opener pep talk—we just have to go out there and prove to New Orleans that an NHL game is way more fun than the NFL shit they go crazy in the streets for.