Page 1 of What If I See You

CHAPTER ONE

GRIFFIN

“Flip the wiener, Ollenberg!”

“I’m doing it, Blackstone! I’m doing?—”

“No, you’re not! You’re fucking it up!” he gripes, flustered and frustrated. “Hurry up before they flip their cock! Fucking flip the goddamn wiener already and make it stick this time!”

“Do you not see my eyes are closed?” I shout back, my adrenaline soaring to levels similar to when I’m on the ice. I slap my hands across the table trying to locate my wiener. “Help me find my wiener guys, because I can’t see for shit right now!”

“Got that right.” Ella laughs and claps her hands. “Scarlett is the queen of the cock! You get it girl! Wrap your hand around that girthy cock and flip the hell out of it!”

“Yeah,” Corrigan adds, snickering. “Double fist it so it doesn’t slip from your grasp and then you flip that cock like your life depends on it!”

Finally, my hand connects with the rubber wiener I flipped a few seconds ago and I grip it in my hands.

“Yes Griff! You’ve got it.” Harrison is so the better teammate when it comes to game night. Always supportive. Never a dick like the rest of us. “Now flip it! Flip it good!”

I toss the wiener lightly up in the air and hear the recognizable sound of the suction cup bottom hitting the tabletop. It’s followed by pats on the back and cheers from my teammates.

“FUCK YES! You did it, Ollenberg!” Bodhi exclaims.

“Knew you would get it done, man,” Ledger says, clapping for me.

“Finally,” Barrett chides. “A man should know how to stick his wiener by now, Ollenberg.”

“That was an impressive wiener grip,” Ella tells me with a conceding nod. When I open my eyes, I shrug a shoulder. “It’s nothing really. I’ve been practicing for this my whole life.”

She laughs. “Gripping your wiener or flipping it?”

“Don’t let him fool you, babe,” August says, wrapping an arm around his wife. “Griffin’s hand rarely leaves his wiener. The fact he let it slip a few times there was a rarity in itself.”

“No kidding,” I laugh with my friend and shake out my hand. “I was beginning to think someone pranked me by rubbing lube all over that wiener before I even touched it.”

Scarlett nudges Ella and murmurs, “Good idea. We better remember that for next time.”

I lean forward. “You’re not invited next time, Dayne.”

“What?” Ledger steps out from the kitchen with two beers in his hand—one for himself and one he’s holding out to me. “What the fuck for? I brought you a beer and everything?”

“Sorry, Ledge. I was talking to your cousin over here.”

“Yeah, your friend is a sore loser, Ledger.” Scarlett winks at me. She knows I know she’s kidding but at least she lets me hate on her for a few minutes.

I don’t really hate her. Scarlett Dayne is one of the sweetest, most hardworking women I know and Oliver is a lucky man to have her by his side.

One of the cellphones piled up on the coffee table in front of us dings, bringing our attention to the center of the room.

“Whose is it?” I ask.

“Mine, I think,” Corrigan says.

“Better answer it in case it’s Daddy dearest.” We all laugh but I’m pretty damn sure there are seven buttholes in this room that just puckered at the thought of Corrigan’s dad, who just happens to be our coach, showing up at our hangout. Don’t get me wrong. We love the guy, but that doesn’t mean we want to be playing Cock versus Wiener, or realistically named Chicken versus Hotdog, with him. Especially Bodhi. He’s a brave guy for standing up to Coach about his relationship with his daughter. Things may have started out super weird for the two of them but watching them together these past several weeks has been fun. Corrigan is great and she fits in with all of us so well.

Okay, okay, maybe I’m just a tiny bit jealous, but who wouldn’t be? Oliver and August and even Pickle-pants himself, Bodhi, have found partners who make them deliriously happy. It’s cute and gives me the warm fuzzies even if I do want to throw up in my mouth sometimes watching them all lovey-dovey together.

“Oh nooooo!” Corrigan’s brows pull together as she reads the message on her phone.

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