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She looked at him; he seemed so proud of himself. “I underestimated you, Baylor. And nice work on the notes. I wasn’t sure if you’d be on board with this or run screaming.”
“If it’s what you want, then it’s what I want. You said it: losing you isn’t an option. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you.”
She reached across the counter and grabbed his hand. “Anything else you wanna add?”
He glanced at the microwave clock. “I’ve gotta head out for dryland in a few. It’s gonna suck so bad. I got like, no sleep. But there’s one more boundary, and I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“And what’s that?“ she asked.
“We both have to approve of the other person, right? Amara, this arrangement doesn’t include Hayes.”
She let go of his hand. “How’d I know that was coming?”
“I just can’t. I went back and forth about this for hours, but I just can’t. Amara, if I had to watch you with him…” his voice trailed off.
“You’re afraid you might like it?” she finished for him. “You know, Ryan, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you had a thing for him.”
He furrowed his brow. “Amara, no Hayes. That’s a boundary I won’t budge on. I...I just can’t.” He got up, gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, and went to get ready.
“Yeah, well. We’ll see about that one,” she said quietly to herself, finishing her coffee.
Excel (16)
“Wow. Amara. I mean, wow,” Ryan swooned, as she walked out into the living room wearing an extremely short, tight red dress, cut low enough to reveal some cleavage, as much as her push-up bra could muster for her small chest. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail that draped over her right shoulder, and her lips matched the color of her dress. She had on black heels that were sexy but also padded with memory foam because after all the years she’d spent beating the shit out of her feet, she just couldn’t handle the full-on “fuck me shoes” anymore.
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She looked him up and down, appreciating the white dress shirt and incredibly form-fitting black pants that hugged his thick ass and thighs to perfection. His usually messy blonde hair was perfectly styled, and the combination of his deodorant and cologne was a scent she’d have found a way to fuck if it was humanly possible.
They were headed out to Excel, Bridgeport’s newest and hottest nightclub, with a few of the guys and some of their significant others. They were looking forward to a night out together since they hung out at home most of the time, but they also decided that it was a prime opportunity to try out their new arrangement.
“So, how are we gonna do this?” she asked him quietly in the backseat of the Uber. It was close enough to the apartment that they could’ve walked, but it was just too damn Connecticut cold outside. Osi was sitting in the front seat attempting to carry on a conversation with the driver, and she didn’t want to air out their business.
“Here, look,” he showed her his Instagram on his phone, making sure she didn’t think he was hiding anything. “Don’t laugh, but this is called a ‘pussy flare,’ as horrendous as that sounds.”
“I’m sorry. A what now?”
He smirked and snapped a quick selfie of just him, remembering that she’d asked to be kept off his social. “I post a pic, tag it with Excel, and add some text about how we’re headed there.” He closed the app.
“And then?”
“And then you wait. Girls will view it, and either like it or comment about how they’ll be there and want to meet up.”
“And this works?”
“Every single time. How do you think I met all the chicks I used to fuck with? This streamlines the process because A, you can see what they look like and pick the ones you want, and B, you know they’re down to fuck, so you don’t waste 75 bucks on drinks just for them to tell you they’re going home to their boring-ass husbands at the end of the night.”
She smirked at his detailed description of the positives of the ‘pussy flare.’ The kid was ridiculous. Sometimes, he could be the most clueless idiot on Earth, and other times, he could rival Einstein with his infinite wisdom. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but it was one of her favorite things about him. “You never cease to amaze me, Baylor.” She shook her head. “How long do you wait?”
“Oh, they’re already there.” He opened the app, a mere two minutes later, and clicked on his messages. “It’s at 103 views and six girls have commented so far. Here.” He handed her his phone. “Scroll through and see if you like any of them. I’ll work it out.”
“So, this is great for girls, but what about guys?”
“That poses a bit more of a challenge, but, uh, you’d be surprised,” he said with a shy smile. “Hockey boys have a reputation for being pretty...open-minded.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, we don’t go around advertising it, but in juniors and especially college because we’re drunk all the time? Every guy I’ve ever messed around with was a teammate of mine or an opponent. It happens a lot more than you’d think.”
“Why though?”
