Page 17 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

Camden:

Walker: I doubt that as well.

Ari: You would, you simp.

I eyed the sink, where Asher was now lying on the counter, outstretched under the faucet, his mouth open as he continued to dramatically gulp down water. Sniffing the burrito, I threw up a hallelujah for Asher’s gluttonous, thieving ways. The kitty litter was obviously coated with hot sauce—so spicy that my eyes were watering just smelling it.

Me: As enthralling as this is, can we get back on topic?

Lincoln: Yes, please inform us what the hell you’re talking about.

I grinned, typing out a quickThank youto him because it was good to be polite.

Me: I’d like to report the desecration of a burrito.

Camden: Why didn’t you say it was this serious?

Hmm, I wasn’t quite sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Why are you grinning like a loon?” Asher asked, creeping up and scaring the living shit out of me.

“You look like you’ve recovered,” I drawled as I pocketed my phone.

He glanced at the burrito and shuddered. “I don’t know if I can eat for at least twenty minutes after that,” he told me. My eyes widened. That was big news coming from him.

“Maybe ten,” he amended.

That was more like it.

“Glad to see you weren’t scarred for life.”

“Glad you were so concerned for me,” he quipped back.

I snorted, shaking my head, and feeling much more relaxed than I had before Asher had shown up at my door, surprising me for the first game of the Stanley Cup.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but before I could look, Asher decided to ruin my good energy. All it took was him saying one name.

“Tyler Miller.”

I growled just hearing it.

“Still not his biggest fan?” Asher asked…as he picked up an apple, obviously recovered from his “near-death experience.” In far less than ten minutes, I might add.

“That’s the understatement of the century, Matthews. Literally the century.”

“You didn’t even like Clarissa that much,” he commented, biting into the apple.

Clarissa had been my girlfriend sophomore year of college, and her cheating on me with Tyler Miller still burned years later. I mean, you would have thought I’d have picked someone with better taste than that.

I scoffed. “I’d been dating her for a year, and the bastard slept with her for half of that.”

“You weren’t going to marry her.”

“I could have! He got her pregnant, and she tried to say the baby was mine!”

“That was bad,” Asher said with a full mouth. He swallowed and straightened up from the counter. “You’re right, let’s kill him.”

I raised an eyebrow at how serious he sounded.

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