Page 8 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Oh.” Father frowns and looks at me. I just shrug.

“Mack probably ordered Uber Eats when she thought I was having a life crisis.”

It’s not the first time the bitch has done so, thinking I was having a full-on meltdown over missed cock.

“I’ll get it,” I assure him and quietly whisper, “Can you make sure she’s okay?”

“On it,” he says and is on the move toward the living room.

“Thanks, Dad.” I know he heard me before he left the room, but he keeps quiet, so he doesn’t interrupt.

Despite Alexandra and Wyatt’s fallout, Coach Cyrus still treats her like a daughter. He may not have raised girls, but he always knew how to comfort me when I was young. Even in my teens, he had a way with words and could take one look at you and know exactly what you needed to hear.

Mother really cared about him, just like she did Father. Sometimes, I wondered how she managed to choose, but I guess fate played a role in the final decision.

Just like making the ultimate decision to take her away from us.

Shaking my head and sighing, I rush to the door and open it with a quick swing.

“Sorry for the wai—”

My eyes lock onto the person in front of me before they slowly rise to meet a pair of annoyed blue eyes.

As usual.

I can’t exhale loudly enough to emphasize my dismay before I’m crossing my arms over my chest and leaning my hip to one side.

“Jayce Winchester. What pleasure do I have the honor of seeing your ugly face at my doorway?”

Hello to my pucking ex.

Win Her Back

~JAYCE~

Fucking hell…

My heart wasn’t ready.

No.

My fucking cock isn’t ready to see the woman of my dreams.

With red hair. Bright. Striking. Could be a limited-edition highlighter shade because it’s THAT prominent.

God knows, I was obsessed with Mikayla Cross Johnson when she was a brunette.

Radiant blue eyes that pierce through to your very soul, pouty, plump lips so fucking kissable, and her peachy complexion with the hint of freckles—are all hidden treasures only witnessed by those close to her.

Her body was perfect in every way, but now that I hadn’t seen her in five fucking years, I’m regretting a few decisions.

Fuck. I’ve always regretted losing her.

Letting her slip the fuck out of my grasp.

She was the match that set me ablaze. With her, I felt fucking invincible to the rest of the world. I always thought the thrill of doing dangerous, illegal shit would set my heart in a galloping race of euphoria, but this woman is right here.

This gorgeous new redhead was the bane of my existence, and if all those romantic historical shows could describe this moment in words, I would say that I burn for Mikayla Cross Johnson.

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