Page 69 of Unleashed

She shrugs. “Say whatever you must, but I know there’s more to your story with her.” To say the fucking least.

I try to appear nonchalant, watching fellow sinners gyrating away the last of their morals. “Why? What did she say?” Fail.

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

Simone leads us to a table near the dance floor. Awesome. Thankfully, the music will drown out her silence.

Before we sit, I swear I hear someone call my name. I look around and see Ferrera waving. He then stops, turns, and pulls someone through a crowd. A woman emerges, looking out of her element and ready to bolt. I don’t fucking blame her.

Ferrera puts his arm around some woman as they walk to the table. “Look who I found in the parking lot.”

Hadley says, “Rhonda, I’m so glad you made it!” Um, what the hell?

Rhonda doesn’t resemble herself, wearing a chiffon-layered, maroon, spaghetti-strap dress that skims her knees. The empire waist gives it a retro vibe. Rhonda’s black high heels are also out of the ordinary, and her blonde hair is a braid halo pinned to her head as if she’s a bridesmaid. But on sweet Rhonda, it fucking works here. Color me blown away.

Hadley squeals and hugs her like they don’t see each other every damn weekday. She pulls her to a seat, and they sit with Ferrera next to her.

Simone takes the chair across from Hadley while Rhonda grabs the chair across from Simone. Sylvie gestures to the chair next to her. “Sit, Rod. Stay a while.” Great.

I sit, leaving Simone no option but to sit on my other side, sandwiching me between Sylvie and her. It should sound like a fevered dream, but tonight, it’s a torturous nightmare.

After we order our drinks from a brunette waitress who looks too young to be serving alcohol, Sylvie leans onto my arm and asks, “Hadley, where’s your man? Does Coach Wilder have other pressing matters?”

She smiles. “He’s not into dancing. He and Ricky are watching Finley and a baseball game on TV.”

I laugh. “What a pair. I hope your kid doesn’t call CPS.”

Shaking her head, Hadley checks her phone before gushing, “Finn is awesome with Finley, and she’s such a daddy’s girl. He didn’t wish to be a dad until he became one. Now, he wants three or four more.”

Nico laughs as Lolita, the waitress, returns to deliver our drinks. “Shit! Four more? You’d almost be able to start your own softball team.”

I make a face. “I hope he’s the one pushing those things out, then. Am I right?”

Nodding, Hadley sips her Sprite. “Yeah. There’s no way I’m letting him knock me up that many more times.”

I shake my head. “That’s mega insane.”

Pushing her drink away from her so she can put her arms on the table, Simone says, “Come on, Hadley. Don’t close your legs on Finnigan—as much as thinking of that makes me gag. You’re creating a beautiful family with my brother. Your shared heartbreak transformed him into a better man. We need more of those,” she mutters. What the hell? We also lost a baby, damn it. I’m not perfect, but I’m right here.

Hadley sits up with a gasp. “I’m not closing... Simone, jeez. I told him two more, and then we’ll regroup. You may only want one kid someday, but your spouse may have a different opinion.”

With a quick shake of her head, her earrings brush against her cheeks and her hair bounces. “When I meet the perfect man, I want him to wreck my lady bits, giving me babies.” Simone giggles into her blue margarita.

Simone has never declared that shit before. I don’t know what to say about that, but damn, it gets me all hot and bothered. How dumb.

Nico glances at me and asks, “Where are your dates, Simone?”

She sits back and crosses her arms, trying to keep at least a foot from me. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I do what I want.” That’s true.

Hadley stirs the straw around in her glass. “Damn, girl.”

Sylvie leans over me again, but this time, sipping her yellow drink. “I want a baby so fucking bad.” Grant had his chance, but he fucked around with Shasta instead. “My biological clock is blaring, and my uterus is weeping.” She clutches my thigh, and my balls shrivel. My dick or swimmers want nowhere near her whore hole.

The universe always proves me wrong when I think I’m in the clear. Sylvie twists toward me, pushing her tit into my arm. She giggles from only one drink. “What about you, Rod? Why are you always alone?” Thanks, bitch.

I shrug, hoping that rids her, but nope. She’s glued to me. “I’m not,” I argue, but Hadley crooks an eyebrow at my bullshit.

“I never see you with a woman.” Sylvie sits back and clutches my arm like I’m going down with the Titanic. “OMG. Are you into dudes giving you blow jobs?” Jesus Christ. One guy forced his mouth onto my dick, but it’s none of Sylvie’s goddamn business.

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