Page 96 of The Wrong Play

“As one does when they are supposed to befollowingthe team’s nutritionist’s plan,” Parker commented snarkily.

Okay, so he wasn’t always a supportive king.

“I ORDERED CHICKEN…” Matty said loudly. Tank, one of our offensive linemen looked over at the mention of food, and I waved him off.

As you were,gentlemen.

Parker and I both leaned in, sure it was about to get good.

“So, she stares at my plate, and then begins talking about how different bones taste. You know,Hypothetically. She then says that she thinks femurs would be the best cut, if properly prepared.”

“What the fuck?” Parker gasped, freezing on top of the box he’d just jumped on—right, we were supposed to be working out.

“Yeah. And then she just…tilts her headand goes, ‘It’s fascinating how marrow keeps us alive, isn’t it?’ Like she’s personally tested the theory. As she drinks her iced fucking milk!”

All right…I was feeling genuinely disturbed now. That girl slept by my angel cake every night.

“It got worse,” Matty said, flopping back on the bench and staring at the ceiling. He possibly was going to need therapy after this. Unfortunate, but necessary, I guess.

The sacrifices we made for love.

“What could be worse than what you’ve already said?” Parker asked, looking flabbergasted.

“She asked me if I ever thought about what human flesh tasted like.”

We both blinked at him.

“Sorry, what?” I asked, losing my appetite for what may have been the first time in my entire life. I pulled the wrapper slowly back over my protein bar and shoved it in my pocket.

“You heard me.” Matty lookedtraumatized. “She said—and I quote—‘There’s a reason people always compare it to pork. At least that’s what the studies say.’”

“What did you do?” Parker asked, glancing around like he was now expecting her to pop out of the corner, too.

“You left, right?” I asked.

“Of course, I left,” Matty practically screeched. “I faked a phone call and told her my ‘cousin’ was in the ER. And you know what she did next…”

“What?”

“She just smiled—fuckingsmiled—and said, ‘That’s a shame. I was hoping to give you some…brain.’”

“Nope,” I said, pulling out my phone and double-checking that Riley was still in class and not anywhere near this psychopath.

Parker gulped. “What kind of brain do you think she meant?”

“DOES IT MATTER?” Matty’s voice was high-pitched again, and I rubbed my ears because that was…unpleasant.

The storyandthe voice.

“Moral of the story is…you owe me for the rest of your life.”

“Do I, though?” I asked as I picked up my weights and started my lunges. “Because it sounds like you put me at risk for spending the night with a serial killer—the exact opposite of what I asked you to do, obviously.”

His eyes were doing that bugging out thing that looked a little unhealthy. “Well, what were you doing? What did she do when she discovered you in her room?”

I waggled my eyebrows at him. “You’re acting like she discovered me.”

He hesitated. “This sounds worse than iced milk…”

---