Page 74 of The Game Plan

“Pippa Bloom is one of those hookup sites. Only they cater to rich dudes. You know, specialize in eccentric shit. Truth, Ithink there’s much more to them than just sex. Their slogan is ‘What’s your pleasure?’ It means anything. And I do meananything.”

“How do you know about them?”

Rolondo squirms in his seat. “It... uh... It isn’t just guys looking for women.”

“God, you’re a member?”

“Not after this,” he snaps. “Not after they messed with my boy.”

“Thanks.” I run a hand through my hair. “No judgment, by the way.”

“Right, man. I didn’t hearanyjudgment in your tone.”

I can practically feel him rolling his eyes. I look over at him. When we graduated, Rolondo told our inner circle he was gay.I’d suspected it, but never said a thing. It’s been hard for him, but we have his back. Always. He’s yet to tell the media,which I know wears on him.

“I’m serious,” I tell him. “Live and let live. But yeah, okay, I’m judging the shit out of this site now. The fucking bountyon my ass kind of killed my goodwill.”

Rolondo laughs. “But hey, you’re gonna be infamous after this.”

I know he’s joking. It doesn’t help, though. I can just hear the spew on ESPN now. The jokes. I’m stuck sitting here, feelingexposed, pissed, humiliated, then pissed again.

“Why the fuck did they decide to target me?” I’m not even aware that I’ve spoken until Rolondo shrugs.

“You got this whole man-bun, tattooed, broody big-guy thing going on. You know how many chicks dig that shit? And being avirgin on top of that? Fuck. It’s like catnip.”

My brows rise as I look at him. “Man-bun? You sound like an eighteen-year-old girl, you know that?”

I swear he blushes. But he shakes his head as if I’m the crazy one. “Man, I got younger sisters. It’s impossible not to knowthis shit.”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. I feel a headache coming on.

“The real question is how did they figure out you were a virgin?”

“I’m not.”

I know he gets what I’m saying. I shouldn’t even mention it. But it fucking irritates me that this dating site has labeledme primary objective number one because they think I still am. “I mean, I was. Before... Shit, never mind.”

“Well,” Rolondo drawls, “at some point we all were virgins, D.”

I don’t want to smile. “You know what I mean. I’m saying it isn’t out of left field that they assumed I was. I never hid it.But I didn’t advertise it either. Doesn’t matter because—”

“You’re not anymore. I get it.” He turns in to the driveway of his condo. “You don’t have to explain anything. But be preparedfor some shit. This bitch-ass agency offered one million dollars for proof of getting into your pants?” A low, mirthless chuckleleaves him. “Man, shit. You’re gonna have bitches coming out of the woodwork for your ass.”

With a grunt, I slump in my seat, my heart clenching in my chest. “Fuck.” I’ve got to talk to Fi, prepare her for what’s coming.My insides roil. I promised her privacy, normalcy. This is far from fucking normal.

When I get inside Rolondo’s place, I try to reach Fi, but my call goes straight to voice mail. It keeps going to voice mail until it’s time to go out to dinner. And I’m left with this sinking feeling that everything has just fallen apart.

Despite my foul mood, dinner with the guys helps. Immediately, they’re giving me hearty slaps on the back and offering inanejokes as we’re led to a quiet corner booth.

But once seated, Johnson leans in, wearing the fierce expression that has the press calling him The Viking, with his longyellow hair and slightly ruddy complexion. “Seriously, Dex, why the fuck did they start in on you? I mean...” He pinksa little. “We all kind of guessed you were—”

He slaps his mouth shut, unwilling to go there, which is kind of ironic considering he’ll talk shit about everything elseunder the sun. And I wonder if they pity me, thinking I’m some sad case. It pisses me off. The base part of me wants to tellthem what I told Rolondo, that I’m no longer a virgin, or that I don’t give a shit about what I hadn’t done before, becausebeing with Fi is the best feeling in the world.

But what I do with Fi is private. And I’m not even going to think about it now, not when she’s a thousand miles away and Imiss her to the point of pain.

Yes, pain. It’s lodged in my chest. I rub the spot, hating that it feels cold and empty. There’s a pressure along my spine,like a hand pushing me toward wherever she might be. It’s getting worse, this urge to just leave where I am and go to her.Why isn’t she answering her phone?

I have dozens of voice mails right now. From Ivy and Sean Mackenzie, asking if I’m all right and wanting to discuss a gameplan. Calls from my team’s PR rep wanting the same thing. Calls from nearly everyone I know except Fi.

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