Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I loved that she was so defensive.
I loved even more that the way her chest was heaving was making me hard.
“What the hell that is, is a joke,” I replied. “The league and the team itself makes it a fuckin’ point to fine us for the stupidest of stupid things. Last year, Titus was fined for wearing a jersey that he’d applied a pink breast cancer banner sticker to in memory of his mother’s breast cancer journey being over. The league fined him, and then the team turned around and fined him.”
Eyes wide, she stared at Titus, then me.
“Last year,” Darnell, a tight end on the Liners, and another good friend of ours, said from behind us, startling us all, “I got fined for wearing my socks too low during two games. I’d also like to point out that those were the only socks that fuckin’ fit, and they were assigned to me by the goddamn Liners.”
Ari whipped her head around and stared at Darnell.
“I was fined two seasons ago when I had to call my wife when I was pulled from a game. I used the team doc’s cell phone to tell her that I was okay, and that it was just a precaution. The league fined me ten grand for it.”
That was Tweety, another defensive end.
“We were all fined ten grand three seasons ago when one Troy Paramount was murdered. We wrote his number in our eye black,” Ashton Sane, our QB—quarterback—said.
“I got fined twenty-five grand when I gave that little kid the football who was there for a Make-A-Wish campaign. Kid was dying, and I gave him the game ball, and there the league was, fining my ass for making him happy.” Darnell shook his head.
Ari looked up at all the huge men surrounding her, telling her about their fines, and said, “Uh, hello.”
My lips flashed into a quick grin when I pulled her into my side.
“Hello,” all of them said at once. “Who are you?”
As if they’d all been wondering as they’d walked toward us.
The nosy little shits.
“I’m Caristonia.” She held out her hand to the first man, Darnell.
Darnell took it, shook it, then said, “Darnell.”
“Nice to meet you, Darnell.” Ari blushed.
She repeated this process for the other two, then shook her head when she was done. “I feel like y’all are all very huge and very impressive. My brother’s big and all…but wow.”
That was the thing about professional football. All of us were the cream of the crop.
Then, when we got into the professional league, we were fed, worked out, and taken care of. Meaning, we only grew stronger and bigger.
Became better.
“And what are you doing here, Caristonia?” Darnell teased.
“I’m…” she started to say, but I interrupted with, “She’s coming with me. We’re married.”
They all blinked slowly, and Ari elbowed me in the side.
Hard.
“Ooof,” I said with a laugh.
“He’s lying,” Ari started to explain. “See, we were at a water park…”
By the time Ari was done, they were all sufficiently mad at Ari’s sisters, like they should be.
“That’s fucked up,” Ashton murmured. “You should really get that figured out.”
“Yo,” Joe called out. “Plane’s loading.”
I turned to look where Joe had indicated to see that the plane was sure enough loading.
Ari followed us onto the plane, her eyes wide as she shuffled along with everyone else.
When we got to the first set of seats on the left of the plane, I pushed her in gently and pointed to the chairs.
She took in all the people she was passing as well as giving back smiles to their curious stares.
In all, I wasn’t surprised when she took the window seat and put me between her and the rest of the team.
Her eyes were wide and intense as she stared around the airplane.
We had a nice plane. One that really resembled some of the planes that you took for the long haul that had the individual compartments with the sides that moved up offering privacy. The seat looked like a pod of sorts and went from a normal looking chair to a bed with a few clicks of a button.
“Where to first?” she asked curiously once she was seated, wiggling her butt in a very cute way. “I forgot.”
“Pittsburgh, Seattle, then Oakland, California,” I answered.
We took my usual seats, and Titus took his across from me before putting his headphones on and blocking everything out—he didn’t do well on planes.
Ari watched with wide eyes as everyone loaded into their chairs, her eyes straying to Joe time and time again.
“Who is that?” Ari asked, eyes wide.
Joe had his infamous scowl on his face. Something in which he never used to have before what the team liked to refer to as the ‘incident’ occurred.
CARISTONIA
“That’s Joe Hoyt,” Slone murmured. “Don’t talk to him. He’s in a perpetual bad mood after his divorce.”
I looked at this ‘Joe Hoyt’ dude.