Page 77 of Play the Game

For fuck’s sake.

“Sco–scottie…” More laughter. “Scottie Bisc—I can’t even say it.”

“Do you need something, or are you just calling to be a dick?” I snap.

“Scottie Biscotti—I…I can’tstop laughing.I have never seen you look more panicked than you did at that moment.”

I growl and peek at Scottie, who's standing in the middle of the locker room with her arms crossed over her perky chest with obvious annoyance. Her perfectly arched eyebrows rise as if she’s saying,“See?!”

“You referred to your wife as a cookie, which is hilarious for so many reasons.”

Ford is on my last fucking nerve.

“THANK YOU!” Scottie shouts. “Even he knows how ridiculous it is.”

Nope. Nada. I will not have her on good terms with Ford, because despite there still being many months left of our marriage, she is not going to grow close to the people I care about the most.

She cannot insert herself into any more of my life than she already has.

I turn toward her. “You threw me under the bus! So that’s what you get, Biscotti.”

“I thought you were going to say Rogue!”

There’s a loud noise from the phone, and I look down to see my sister’s face. Taytum’s lips are rolled together, and the very second I hear Ford’s hyena-like cackle in the background, Taytum bursts with laughter.

“I have to come visit so I can see you act like a loving husband in real life.” There’s a twinkle of amusement in my sister’s eye, and I’m about to hang up. “I’d pay money to see it firsthand. Watching it on camera isn’t enough.” She’s busting at the seams.

My jaw clenches. “You act like I don’t have an affectionate bone in my body.”

“Emory,” she argues, becoming serious. “Tell me a time when you’ve been affectionate. I need at least one time where you’vebeen caring or lovey-dovey. Just one. Because what I remember from college is you banging a new girl each weekend.”

“I’ve had a girlfriend before,” I grumble, glancing at Scottie again, who’s still standing with her arms crossed. It was my junior year of high school, and it lasted all of three weeks, but still.

Taytum laughs. “My question still stands.”

My sister is right.

I’m not the type of guy who wants to dote on a woman and act beyond the normal scope of attraction, but I hate that she’s right, so I mumble under my breath. “Fuck off.”

Scottie snorts sarcastically, and I shoot her a glare.

“I’m hanging up,” I say to my sister.

“Wait!” she shouts. There’s a devious look on her face that I’ve seen time and time again. “Let me talk to Biscotti. I want to meet her.”

“No–”

All of a sudden, my phone disappears out of my hand, and mywifeis walking off with it, talking to my sister and brother-in-law as if she’s a part of the family.

Like everyone else, they seem infatuated with Scottie right away, and I’m agitated.

“Give me that.” I snatch the phone as I quickly follow her and hit end on the call.

Scottie narrows her pretty eyes with a huff of breath. I ignore her and continue busying myself with my gear. There's a part of me that wants to get back at her for throwing me under the bus in front of the reporter and for acting all friendly with my sister.

Anytime I slip a little and find myself in awe of her or swept away by the smile on her face, I get angry afterward, and the only way I know how to beat it is to level the playing field.

So, with a devil on my shoulder, I turn around and start to strip.

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