Page 80 of The Wildest One
She was getting a piece of what I’d been going through since she had left my place on Saturday morning. Up until now, I’d had no idea what was going on with her. And starting now, she had absolutely no idea what was running through my head.
How does it fucking feel?
Regardless, this was a goddamn disaster.
I had seen what I needed—and I’d seen enough.
My gaze moved to Mark as he said, “If there’s anything you need from us, let us know.” His auburn comb-over with even redder eyebrows told me he was who she’d gotten her hair color from. “Take care of yourselves. Rest up. We’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”
He held out his arm, allowing Jolie to walk out first, and the two of them left the locker room.
“Dude”—Landon slapped my arm—“I might be so off here, but that chick looked just like Jolie. They even have similar names.”
I slowly faced my goalie. Whose ass I’d accidentally tried to pummel with pucks from being so worked up over her. “That was Jolie.”
Landon’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger. “You mean to tell me that was the three-night stand from Boston?—”
“Yes.” Both hands dived into the sides of my hair. “I ran into her the other night at Musik.”
“Holy fucking shit.”
“But I didn’t know any of this.” I took the towel off my shoulders and wrapped it around my wrist. “She spent the night at my place and said nothing. I just found out about her new position when you did.” I was keeping my voice down so none of my teammates could hear. “And I’m fucking?—”
“Damn, that fucking redhead. I’m calling dibs right now,” my right wing said, his voice cutting me off as he shouted his comment across the room.
It had taken less than a minute for the shit talking to start—no surprise there. My team was a bunch of horny bastards.
“Fuck that, she’s going to be mine,” someone else said. “I’ll have her begging for my dick in no time.”
I tried to search for the second voice, but many of the guys were huddled in the center, where Jolie and Mark had been standing.
“I give her a week before she’s spreading her legs for me,” a third voice said.
“Did you see those legs?” one of my defensemen said, standing to join the group. “I’d like to have them wrapped around my face.”
I turned toward Landon. “I’m going to fucking lose it.”
“On who?” he asked.
“On every goddamn person in this room.” I unwrapped the towel from my wrist, and I aimed it toward the huddle and tossed it like a football. “Enough!” I shouted at them.
Several of them looked over.
“She’s the owner’s daughter. Your dicks aren’t getting anywhere near her.”
“So, you’re saying your dick is?” my backup goalie asked with a smile.
I flipped him off. “Get in the fucking shower and stop gossiping.” I turned toward my locker and reached into my bag. My cell was on top, and the second the screen lit up, there was a message from Jolie.
Jolie
I’ll be over at 7:00 p.m. unless you tell me otherwise.
The message had been sent about twenty minutes ago, when I was still in practice. She had known she was going to come in here, she had known I was going to lose my shit, and she had known I would see this as soon as I was calm enough to look at my phone.
I tossed the phone back in my bag and began getting dressed.
“You’re not going to shower?” Landon asked.
