Page 103 of The Stud

Scandals theleagueshouldn’t have had to bury.

But what’s the big fucking deal when it’snotjust a fling?

When the player and the PR broadskie are…more than that?

I’m not saying we’re in love, but I’m not,notsaying it, either.

Fuck, whatamI saying?

The mouthful I’ve been carving finally soars towards my lips only to abruptly be halted midflight courtesy of the doorbell.

Huh.

Who the hell could that be?

Bear’s immediate leap off the couch along with barking leads to me scrambling in that direction and following behind him to see who the visitor is.

Because it’s not an attacker.

Attackers don’t ring the doorbell.

Not unless you’re in that one movie with the mask people.

Can’t quite remember it.

Horror movies were Layvon’s thing, not mine.

But…now that I’m looking back…dating him…was kind of likeliving ina low budget horror movie.

Peeking through the peephole reveals to me a sight that instantly has me commanding, “Banco.”

Bear ceases barking, parks his ass on the floor, and sets his large paws in front of him, maintaining a just in case defensive stance.

I open the door to Joey Alexeyev, Cap’s light café brown skinned, curvy, curly haired, pregnant wife, only for her to instantaneously say, “I have to pee.”

It’s impossible not to snicker at the announcement, “Did you drive all the way over here just to see my bathroom?”

Her freckled covered nose scrunches in amusement. “I actually drove all the way out here to do my job but forgot to peebeforeI left downtown, which was a terrible mistake, and then got stuck in Santa must’ve crashed his sleigh traffic, which then only made having to pee so much worse, and then I took like four detour turns because people around here are just begging for a spot on next year’s naughty list, which brings me back to my blunt – albeit even rude – greeting.” She shoves the bag in her possession towards me. “Bathroom?”

The object is transferred into my possession as I usher her into the house. “This hall, first door on the left.”

Joey squeaks her thanks and scurries off to do what I’ve learned pregnant women do all the time, especially when they’re this close to popping.

Pee.

Curiosity cross-checks me right in the face to check out the bag’s contents but considering that she said it was job related stops me from actually exploring.

She used to be a nanny – one of the best according to the Slayers – and now does something with early childhood education.

What exactly?

Don’t know.

Don’t understand.

Don’thave tounderstand because I don’t have kids.

Or nieces.

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