Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
“Fuck off,” I mutter, ripping my helmet off again. “At least I’ll be playing on Friday. What’ll you be doing?”
Jax runs past me, whipping around to jog backward as he flips me the bird. “Your fucking mom if you’re not careful.”
I groan, shaking my head and trying to remember that somewhere deep down, I really love the bastard. “What in the Alabama? She’s your aunt. That’s messed up.”
Jax laughs, his gaze filling with the worst kind of enjoyment that I prepare myself for the bullshit about to come falling from his mouth. “YOLO!” he calls before flipping around and jogging across the field, the worst rendition of Sweet Home Alabama pouring out of him while going as far as to mimic the guitar riff in the song.
I don’t know how he does it. One minute I want to smack him, and the next, he’s the most endearing, entertaining motherfucker I’ve ever met. He has a certain charm, there’s no doubt about it. If only he didn’t have to go and put that mental image of him and my mom in my head. That one is going to need a stiff drink to process.
Knowing I’ll get my ass kicked if I don’t start helping pack up, I get to it, trying not to rip Daniel Carter’s face clean off his body. I know I got a good punch in after he called Addison a whore in the hallway, but that wasn’t nearly enough damage to ease the rage burning inside me. Every time I see him out on the field, claiming to be some kind of team player, I want to destroy him. It’s assholes like that with egos and God complexes who make life hard for girls like Addison. Clearly, he doesn’t have a sister. If he did, there’s no way he would have made those comments in the hall.
After twenty minutes of slave labor, I stand in the locker room shower, attempting to hide out in my cubicle as Jax walks up and down the narrow corridor, trying to justify why he shouldn’t be asking Arizona out.
I don’t know how the fuck I got dumped with him. He started with Hudson, but that bastard is so fucking loved up with my sister after finally finding the balls to really kiss her that the only response he could give Jax was to follow his heart. And let’s be honest, that’s not the kind of answer the moron was looking for. He knows better than to try this shit on Logan, so Riley was his next culprit, and I’m not surprised that didn’t go well either. From what I could tell, Riley just wanted to talk about their threesome out by the lake, which clearly wasn’t the conversation Jax was aiming for. Apparently the fucker is feeling a little sour after sharing his toys. Sounds to me like someone is getting a little more attached than he’s letting on.
Logan stands in his cubicle, staring hard at the wall and ignoring his brother as he continues marching up and down the corridor behind us. “Do you ever fucking shut up?” Logan groans, probably having heard this shit all night. After all, most of the time, it’s just the two of them at home in that huge house, except for when Chanel comes over, and when that happens, I doubt they’re chilling together. Logan would have his girl up in his room spread out on his bed like a buffet, leaving Jax all alone. I suppose before everything went down, he’d have Ari to chill with, but … I suppose life would be pretty lonely right about now.
Jax glances at his brother, giving him a nasty glare. “I’ll make a deal with you,” he says, stepping into the empty cubicle between mine and Logan’s. “I’ll shut up when you stop acting like a pussy-whipped little bitch.”
Logan rolls his eyes, having had enough of Jax’s bullshit for today. “I’m the little bitch?” he questions. “Remind me what you were doing while we were out on the field? Putting in your application for official benchwarmer? Or would you prefer something with a little more excitement? Waterboy, perhaps?”
In the blink of an eye, Jax reaches over the shared wall between their cubicles and grabs a firm grip of his brother’s junk, and judging by Logan’s grunt of pain, I can only assume Jax is giving it a good, thorough squeeze. “How’s that for a fucking waterboy,” Jax spits, venom bursting in his tone.
“Alright, fuck,” Logan says, glaring at his brother, not needing to say anything further. Jax knows he’s won this round fair and square.
He releases his brother’s dick and makes a point of holding his hand under the water of Logan’s shower. “Gross,” he mutters. “Who knows what diseases you’ve got festering down there.”
“Then don’t fucking touch it,” Logan spits.