AllFreeNovel
Share Us
McMann pauses it and leans back against the couch cushions. His roommate glares at him.
“What’s up, Burnham?” the goalie asks, ignoring Ben in the process.
“Not much. I’m just dead from skating sprints all afternoon. Thought I’d come over here and see what you guys were up to.”
“You’re looking at it.” He waves a hand toward the screen. “Do you want to play? Maybe take Sims’s place? He sucks.”
Ben salutes his roommate with his middle finger.
I chuckle. “Nah, I’m good. I am starving though. You got any food around this place?”
McMann’s hand floats to his stomach, where it rests. “I was just thinking about ordering some wings.” He glances at Ben and then over at me. “Any takers?”
“I’m in,” I say.
“Not me,” Ben answers smugly. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
Charlie narrows his eyes. “With who?”
“Sandra.”
“Sandra who?” he presses.
“Just Sandra.”
Charlie laughs. The sound is loud and obnoxious. “Dude, you don’t even know her last name.”
Ben shrugs smugly. “I don’t need to know her last name. I just need to know where she lives because that’s where I’ll be spending the night tonight.”
“Since when do you date?” I ask my former teammate with amusement.
“Since Sandra is forcing me to put in the work.” He smirks and stands. “Are you still seeing that chick, Dallas?”
“Nah, man. That was a onetime thing.”
“Hit it and quit it,” he says, smacking an imaginary ass in the air.
Ben was there the night I left the bar with Dallas. He’d encouraged me to go for her. She wasn’t a hard conquest.
Ben starts moving toward the staircase. “She was hot though.”
“If you think so,” I say as he ascends the stairs, “please, feel free to shoot your shot with her. Take her off my hands.”
“Is she a stage-five clinger?” Charlie asks from his spot on the couch.
“You could say she’s had a hard time taking no for an answer,” I admit.
“That’s code for she’s a stage-five clinger,” Ben yells down from the second floor.
We laugh.
Charlie hits a few buttons on the remote, and a hockey game appears on the screen. I shift in the chair and remove the phone from my pocket. I pull up a delivery app and place an order for wings.
“What do you want?” I ask Charlie.
He relays his selections, and I add them to mine.
“I’ve got some cash in the other room,” he offers.
