Page 9 of Fumbled Beginning

My eyes went to the commotion at the front door, and when I looked up, I started thinking of all the ways I could get this fangirl off my lap without causing a scene.

She was chatting away, but I wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. My sole focus was on Rylee and the way her hips swayed in the denim jeans that were a little too tight for my liking.

A little smile was curled on her lips as she strode my way.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in. I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight?”

Rylee looked between me and the woman parked on my lap.

“I heard you were having a party and thought I’d stop by for a drink.” She glanced around. “There is a pretty big crowd here for a Sunday night.”

This was the third straight day in a row where we’ve run into each other. Did she come here tonight to see me? It would make my night if she did.

“It’s our last night of freedom before our playoff game this weekend.” I leaned forward like I was getting ready to tell her a secret. “Just don’t tell Coach.” I gave her a teasing wink.

“About the party or the lap dance?” She angled her head to the woman on my lap.

I was about to dump Blondie off my leg, but Rylee waved me off. “Don’t let the fun stop on my account.”

Was that jealousy in her tone? My entire body lit up inside at the thought.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” the blonde on my lap snapped. Her tone was a little aggressive, something I didn’t appreciate.

Rylee’s brows lifted. “I could ask you the same thing.” She smiled sweetly and turned her gaze to me. “Who is your friend, JP?”

I wanted to laugh at how sweet she sounded because there was nothing about her smile that was sweet.

I winced when the girl tightened her hold on my neck. “I’m Shayla, JP’s girlfriend.”

“You are my what?” I blinked a few times, trying to process what I just heard. Did she say what I thought she said? She’s had a few drinks tonight, but we both knew she wasn’t my girlfriend. I didn’t even know her damn name.

“I’m your girl, JP.” She gave me a pouty look. “At least for tonight. I’ve been waiting forever to get my chance with you. I don’t want to share. I want you all for myself.”

“I think we need to get a few things straight.” I grabbed her hands and attempted to remove them, but the next part happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder and pulled her shirt up, exposing her boob. “But look what I did for you.” My eyes nearly bugged out of my head at the tattoo of my jersey with my name and number on her skin with little hearts and footballs surrounding it.

Jesus Christ! I raked a hand through my hair. We needed to rent a “crazy” detector before letting any more women into the parties.

Scrubbing a hand over my stubbled chin, I sent Rylee a pleading look, begging for a little help. Instead of coming to my rescue, the little shit turned her head to the side and bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing. If I wasn’t concerned about this chick being a psychopath, I might have found this whole thing amusing.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” I pushed her shirt down and covered up the tattoo before the guys caught wind of this. After playing ball for almost a decade, you would think I would be used to this madness.

Blondie gawked. “What do you mean, it’s time to go? You invited me. You can’t just throw me out.”

The fuck, I can’t, I wanted to shout.

“If this is about her”—she pointed to Rylee—“then I’ll reconsider a threesome, but I get to have you first, she gets what’s left.”

Rylee snorted. “Well, some might consider that a tempting offer. I’m going to have to pass. You two kids have fun.”

She strolled away, and I wanted to follow her like a lost puppy. Instead, I turned my attention to the woman taking up space on my lap.

Despite what Rylee thought, I didn’t invite this woman. I didn’t know this woman, and what little I did know, I didn’t like. I was so damned tired of this nonsense.

I pushed to my feet and untangled her body from mine. “I’m going to ask you nicely to leave without causing a scene. You have no right to lay a claim on me and I won’t tolerate the way you were talking to my friend.”

She pulled on the hem of her short skirt. “Why are you being such a jerk about this?”

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