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Oh, well. I dig out my cellphone and check the time. The game has been over for twenty minutes, and players should start filing out soon.
Seconds later, my cellphone buzzes.
Knox: Changing now. See you in a few. Are you outside?
Me: Yep, I’m waiting.
Knox: Good. Turned on?
I smile and bite my lips together to keep from laughing–not that anyone would hear me anyway.
Me: Absolutely. Watching you fight another guy over space on the field makes the walls of my pussy clench.
Knox: Shit. Now, I need another shower.
Laughter bursts from my lips, and I clasp my hand over my mouth as a new set of tears develops. This time, they’re only happy ones.
Me: Wait until we get to your place. We can shower together.
A shiver rolls up my spine. To go from never being kissed to wanton sex hussy in the span of a few weeks is still something I’m struggling to wrap my mind around.
Knox: Dressed. You’d better be ready.
Me: Oh, I’m ready to wrap my mouth around a hard piece of meat.
Knox: Doll, you’re killing me.
Me: I meant. Can we stop on the way to your place and grab a turkey leg?
By this point, the tears are streaming out of the corners of my eyes. I swipe at them and look around to make sure no one is paying any attention to me. A woman across the hallway glares at me and shoves her index finger into the center of her sunglasses. Someone needs to dig the stick out of their ass.
Knox: We need to talk about that.
Me: The turkey leg?
Knox: No. My place. Out in two minutes.
My place. My heart skips a beat. The old me would’ve worried that meant he wanted to break up. The new me is already packing my bags and opting out of my lease.
“Are you, Saylor?”
Shit. I jump and glance at the woman who spoke to me. She’s wearing a black mini dress that shows off her tan skin. Her blood-red nails and perfectly styled brown hair are accentuated by puckered lips and those black sunglasses. The stuck-up woman from across the hall.
I straighten my shoulders. “Yes, I’m Saylor.”
“I don’t know what Knox sees in you. You don’t have an ounce of class.”
Madyson The ex. Why didn’t I recognize her? “You don’t have an ounce of class, either.”
She grasps the arm of her sunglasses and snaps them off. Her eyes flash with anger. “Now, listen here.”
I step toward her. “No, you listen. I don’t know what you’re doing here but stay out of Knox, and I’s business. It has nothing to do with you. You made your choice.”
“I didn’t break up with him.”
“No, you sucked off his limo driver during an important event for him.”
“Bitch.” She looms over me, but I don’t care. I’ve been bullied by better people than her. For once, I appreciate my years of asshole training.
