Page 256 of Wrong Pucking Player

There could be some improvements, which, with a plan that’s explained to the Pincers in detail, could be our way of winning the semi-finals.

One of our internship tasks is to make not only a health plan but also expand on what gameplay should be implemented to secure a victory. I know Coach Johnson and even Mr. Champion are curious about our viewpoints at a health level, but I liked how they enjoyed reviewing our input on how the team can succeed.

“You’re lucky Mittens isn’t here, or that masterpiece of notes would be raining through this apartment in shreds.”

I glance over my shoulder Armani, who’s been lazily sitting on the couch, admiring me with those hooded eyes of his.

He’s been in his boxers—the ultimate distraction, if you ask me—observing my process for the last few hours.

I’m sure he doesn’t need to do much prep today aside from making sure he’s hitting his calorie goal.

The majority of the team is on their second last day of the bulk stage, which I was fine with since tomorrow was the fundraiser ball, and I wanted them to eat whatever junk they wanted, but by next week, everyone would be on a cut to ensure they’re at their best physique in time for the semi-finals.

To think time has gone by so fast and the season was actually almost over.

At this point, I’m not sure how things are going to go down.

Vipers have a strong chance of winning, but I think Pincers have a really strong chance of succeeding if everyone follows the plan.

Wyatt may not be playing in the semi-finals unless someone is super injured, but I made a special plan just in case he’s brought into the loop after halftime.

Various scenarios. Different game plans.

“Where did you leave Muffin?” I question as I cross my arms over my chest and turn around to face a relaxed goalie.

Who looks so fucking hot shirtless.

I’ve missed the sight of those pierced nipples.

Matched with how muscled his thighs and legs have become after weeks of bulk, intense training, and proper replenishing after games and practices, my Armani is carrying his best physique since the season started.

I love it when my fitness plan pans out to be golden.

“She’s at your place in the suite,” he admits. “Leo kidnapped her since he’s finalizing the renovations and stuff. I told him we’d return the key tomorrow night after the ball and pick Mittens up.”

“Return the key?” I’m confused. “We’re not staying there until the finals?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he admits as his phone pings with a notification.

“Not necessary?” I don’t understand. “So, will we stay at your place for the remaining days?”

“We could,” he assures me, but he pauses to stare at his phone before he’s typing something to whoever texted him. “Is a pink scratching post too much?”

“Scratching post?” I walk over to the couch and peer over to see the upside mass of scratching post epicness. “That’s not a scratching post. That’s a fucking jungle! Muffin would get lost in that thing. How is that going to fit here? It’s bigger than the entire kitchen!” I put my hands up to emphasize the size. “It’s literally this big!”

“I think it’s a little bigger, Kitten,” he says with a wink before he’s tapping his phone a few times. “I was thinking it would be a good investment so Mittens could have a playmate.”

“Wait,” I gasp and lean over. “We’re getting another cat?”

“I love how you’re saying we’re,” he mentions with a devilish grin before he shows me a picture of a pure white kitten with the cutest blue eyes.

“O.M.G!” I can’t scream loud enough as I take the phone from him to get a ‘closer’ look at the cute kitten on his screen. “WHERE did this kitten come from? He or she? Can we keep them? I’ll make space in my place for the pink scratching post maze if it means we get to have them.”

“With them knocking down all your plants?” He points out.

“You’ll help me fix them,” I whine and look down at him to see his growing smile.

“He or she?”

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