Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
My eyes widen.
Well, then.
She’s not being shy about laying it out there, is she?
But when you think about it, steak and dick do have a lot in common. Both very meaty and…satisfying in various ways.
“Oh, shut up, Dawn,” one of the other girls says. “You’ve only been single for what? Three weeks?”
“And that’s two weeks too long to go without dick, Leelee,” Dawn maintains, making the others giggle. “I’m a very sexual person. Besides, Jason is already dating someone else. I have to get a photo of me and a hottie up on my socials before he thinks I’m like actually sad about the breakup or something.”
“You totally do,” a third, slightly clogged-sounding voice says. “He is so stuck on himself. If anyone needs to be taken down a notch, it’s Jason. I can’t stand that jerk.” She snorts. “Shit, I probably shouldn’t have said that, should I? I’ve had too many margaritas. Just don’t get back together with him, okay? He sucks, and you can do sooo much better.”
“So much,” Leelee agrees. “And I know just the guy. A sexy silver fox who will know exactly what to do with a horny little mess like you.”
“Oh, yeah? Who? Tell me!” Dawn bounces in excitement, her heels clicking on the tile.
“The Zaddy on the Jumbotron, obvi, the one celebrating eleven hundred games,” Leelee says, making my stomach sink. “A guy like that, with that body, but a little gray at the temples? He’s not only going to know how to get the job done, but he’s going to be grateful for the chance to do it, you know?”
My entire body flushes hot as they giggle again. I really wish I weren’t trapped on this toilet, too embarrassed to flush and make a run for it for fear these three will know I’ve been eavesdropping in the stall.
I also really don’t like hearing their plans for Dean.
My Dean.
No, not my Dean. My boss. My boss, who hasn’t been laid in a long time and might actually appreciate the chance to go home with Dawn. He can’t, obviously, since he’s watching the girls tonight and has to take them home after pizza, but that doesn’t mean he can’t arrange a rain check situation with a hot younger woman.
He likes hot younger women, after all.
Does he? Really? Or did he just like you, before you both thought better of it?
Before I can answer that question, Dawn says, “I mean, yeah, he’s fucking gorgeous, but isn’t he married? Those two cuties with the sign were his, right? And wasn’t that his wife? The tall brunette with the curls?”
One of the others hums low in her throat. “No, that’s like…the babysitter, I think. Or the nanny. Whatever. She’s not with him. From what I could glean from the gossip, he’s newly divorced, and his wife died on the way to her honeymoon with another man, leaving him with the kids.”
They all coo in sympathy and what sounds like a hint of delight.
But then, everyone loves a tragic drama with their hot older guy, right?
Everyone except me.
“Poor baby,” Dawn says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr. “He definitely needs someone to kiss it and make it all better.”
“And we all know how much you love to kiss it, you slut,” the clogged girl says, earning a shriek of laughter from the others as their heels click in reverse. “That poor man won’t know what hit him.”
The door swings shut behind them, and silence descends once more.
I’m left sitting on the toilet with my sensible nanny jeans around my ankles, bunched right beneath my equally sensible peach cotton briefs, wondering why the hell I thought jeans and a pink Voodoo team sweatshirt were acceptable attire for Dean’s 1,100th game.
I should have known there would be a party after. A party, where I would have the chance to mingle and flirt and do the same things those girls are planning to do. And no, I can’t flirt with Dean or any of the other guys on the team, but there will be other people out tonight. Packy’s leans family-friendly, but plenty of adults go there to drink and play video games.
And bowl, maybe? I think they have a bowling alley in the basement.
I haven’t been to Packy’s since my second week in New Orleans, when a bunch of us from the diner went there on a Sunday afternoon to blow off steam. It wasn’t my scene, but it was a scene, and there were definitely other single people around.
I could have been out on the field with those girls, shooting my shot in a miniskirt, choosing dick over despair. It’s honestly probably the smartest thing I could do for my mental health! Isn’t there a song about how the best way to get over one guy is to get under another?