Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
There are missed texts on my phone when I pull it out. That’s not unheard of. My mom likes to message me, and there’s always reminders and dumb shit like that coming through, but the fact that I have eight unread messages isn’t normal.
We swap numbers, and then I get the hell out of there before I lose it…and maybe before anyone sees us together. All we need is for word to get out that the Jilted Exes are spending time together.
I make it as far as my car before I’m thumbing the screen because I have a suspicion who it is.
Two words. Magic cum.
Did you watch the game?
I bet you didn’t. I’m really hot when I play.
I killed it tonight!
Hayes! Stop ignoring me. I need to gloat.
Though maybe it’s you who has the right to gloat. You’re the one who’s good pucking luck and all.
Oh! I have an idea.
My phone buzzes with another message, only this time it’s a video. I don’t even pretend I’m not going to watch it when Rylan’s pecs fill the screen because I’m a glutton for punishment. The way this man turns me on can’t be good.
It’s short. Just five seconds of bouncing pecs before some guy wraps his arms around Rylan from behind and the video cuts off. And…who was that? Do hockey players go around hugging each other like that? No way I’m jealous. I don’t even know the guy. We’ve only met twice, and those were both for sex, and I’m never getting in a relationship again, so I don’t have to worry about being cheated on. But I am a little curious.
Me: Coincidence.
Rylan: Come out with us tonight.
My heart jumps into my throat, and I nearly choke. Go out with them? What in the hell is he thinking?
Me: I can’t go out with you.
He can’t really want that anyway.
Rylan: Why not?
Me: People will see.
Rylan: Are you embarrassed of me?
I roll my eyes because he really can’t be this clueless.
Me: No. I’m a Jilted Ex, and I was humiliated at one of your hockey games. All we need is someone to see us together and know we’re…you know.
A vision of a laughing Rylan pops into my head, and I do my best to shoot that shit down immediately.
Rylan: Boning?
Jesus Christ. Could he sound more like a frat boy?
Me: Are you sure you’re twenty-six?
Rylan: I never told you my age… Did you google me?
Shit. Goddamn it, motherfucker.
Me: Of course, but only when I found out you might be a hockey player.
Rylan: Aww…I think you’re obsessed with me…but don’t feel bad. I’m a little obsessed with you too. You should search highlights from my game tonight.
I’m absolutely not looking up this game. I don’t want to see any highlights because I don’t care about hockey.
Me: No.
Take that!
Rylan: Please.
Me: I’m ignoring you now.
What is it with this guy? He’s…well, no idea. I can’t quite get a handle on him or why I keep talking to him other than the sex.
Oh God. The sex. The sex that he thinks makes him even better at hockey…the sex I wouldn’t be having if it wasn’t for him. Sex that makes me feel good in this intense way I’ve never felt before. I don’t like that truth, but it’s a truth all the same.
Rylan: Can we talk tomorrow?
Say no, say no, say no.
Me: Yes.
Rylan: I thought you were ignoring me?
Fuck my life.
I set my phone on the passenger seat and drive away. Somehow, I don’t overthink the Jilted Exes’ Club meeting or Malcolm the rest of the night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rylan
How does one proposition a guy for consistent good-luck sex for the rest of the hockey season? It’s all I’ve been thinking about since last night. It’s January, and the regular season goes until April. Then the playoffs. We’ll win the cup at the end of June, so six months of his life for really great sex isn’t too much to ask for, is it? Especially when I know he enjoys it so much. I wouldn’t consider it if I didn’t think Hayes got something out of it—even more than just an amazing orgasm. After what went down with The Prick—my new name for his ex—I think he has something to prove, maybe even just to himself, and something about what we’re doing helps with that. Hayes has basically said so himself.
I texted him this morning, and he’s going to come over this evening when he gets off work. We leave tomorrow for a few away games, so the timing is perfect if this is something he’s interested in.
Hayes…intrigues me. He caught my attention the first night we met, but my fascination with him has only grown. Every time I think about what he went through, my whole body burns with anger. I made the mistake of googling the Jilted Exes’ Club this morning, and…why do people enjoy so much making others suffer? Why do they spend their days speculating about other people’s pain? Why is it so easy to jump on a bandwagon without giving any consideration for the people on the other end of it? And don’t get me started on the number of people who blamed Hayes and the others, who said they must be dumb or didn’t want to see the truth, even accusing them of setting this whole thing up as some ploy to go internet famous. I just can’t wrap my head around it.