Page 50 of No Place Like Home

I braced myself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“You want to help me? I haven’t had pussy in a while. Why don’t you get on my lap and ride me?”

He. Did. Not.

When he patted his lap, I lost it.

I walked up to him, removed the bottle from his grasp, and poured it on his face.

“You want to drown in alcohol, be my fucking guest,” I spat at him.

“What the fuck, Jess?!”

I knew he wouldn’t be running after me.

“Come on, boy.”

Simba looked a little torn, deciding if he wanted to stay with his master instead of following me.

“Let’s go eat,” I said the magic words that had him running after me.

When we made it to the kitchen, I grabbed Simba’s things and put them in a bag.

“If he wants to kill himself, he can be my freaking guest,” I told Simba.

When I made it to the foyer, I realized we had company.

A tall guy was standing there looking down at Simba and me. He had to be one of Quincy’s football boys. Tall, tannish skin with piercing gray eyes, and next to him was a cute, curly-haired blond.

“I said what I said,” I spat at them.

The guy gave me a grin.

“Come on, boy, let's go.”

“You’re kidnapping his dog?” the girl spoke.

I looked behind me, where Simba was happily trailing me.

“He doesn’t look like he wants to stay to me.”

I kept walking, and they moved aside, letting Simba and I get through.

“Anything you want us to do?” the guy asked before I walked through the door.

“If you could smack some sense into him, that’d be great,” I responded.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Even in my drunken state,I knew someone was in my house. I could tell the moment I woke up and noticed the place looking fresh.

Did I have any remorse for trashing the basement again? Nope, not an ounce. If I had to guess who had snooped around my place, my money would be on Emma. Good ol’ Emma.

I took a sip of the only bottle I found. Another thing that had me fucking mad this morning, because that meant Emma cleaned me out.

The game kept playing in the background, and it was bittersweet to watch. In college, I knew an injury could take me out before I even made it to the draft, but I never let myself think that an injury could take me out, period.

Losing your career could be compared to the end of a long-term relationship. Something steady that gave you comfort, something you thought would be there forever, then one day, it gets ripped away out of nowhere.

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