Page 3 of Winning Brynn

Alex's sister, whom I've only met a handful of times because she's always somewhere on the other side of the planet, is a fashion and lifestyle influencer, who spends her time posting photographs of herself on Instagram.

Some call it hustling.

I call it narcissism.

But who am I to talk, right? I make my money kicking a ball around.

"Your neck of the woods, actually. She's been in London for the past month, working on an edit for some fast fashion brand. It's actually a pretty big deal. It'll all be done under her name, and she has to do all the modeling for the ad campaigns herself."

"Jesus Christ." I shake my head and wipe a hand down my face.

Alex narrows his eyes. "What?"

"I just don't get it. No offense, man, but your sister has literally built a career out of being hot. It makes no sense to me."

"You think my sister is hot?" I swear to God, the man growls.

I've seen her photographs on social media and the videos she posts on TikTok. I've spotted her in the stands during games, on the rare chance she’s able to make one. Hell, I've even met her a few times. Anyone with eyes can see that Brynn Wolfe is a fucking knockout, if not a little vapid.

"No," I lie, and Alex relaxes.

"You're pretty hard on her for a dude she barely knows, you know? I think you'd be surprised how much work goes into what she does."

I snort. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm dead serious. There's a lot more to being an influencer than you think. But you have the brain of an eighty-year-old who doesn't understand technology, so I don't expect you to get it."

As if understanding every word, Salem laughs again then blows a spit bubble that pops right in my face.

Oh, the endless joys of parenting.

"Okay, okay, bugger off and go pick up your hotshot sister. Say, can you help me find some more nannies to interview?"

"You only want me to leave because you know I'm right."

"Nah." I grin. "I want you to leave because your fucking man bun is giving me hives."

He laughs lightly with a shake of his head. "You've got such a hard-on for my topknot."

"There is nothing in this world that makes my dick softer than your fucking hair."

"Well, thankfully, I'm not in the business of making your dick hard. I'm interested in making pussies wet, and trust me when I say that my 'man bun' does the job just fine." He pauses, then continues, much to my annoyance. "For real, it's like a Slip ‘N’ Slide down there the moment chicks get their hands on my hair."

"Gross." I grimace.

"Don't be jealous, old man. You haven't been laid in forever, and it's showing."

"I'm not even thirty yet."

"God bless us all when that time comes. You already act like the elderly."

I'm only three years older than him, but he treats me like I'm a member of the American Association of Retired Persons. It doesn't help that he has the maturity level of a five-year-old who’s high on red dye.

And yet, somehow, this fucker is my very best friend.

"Boyztomen" group chat

Alex:Yo, Roman. Can you go check on Daddy Sully for me?

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