Page 5 of Wrong Pucking Player

Oh, right. Ex-boyfriend.

“I honestly can’t remember what the fuck happened last night,” Mikayla admits as she puts her arms in the air to wave them aimlessly. “I went to Jack’s, got fucking wasted because I spent all the time chatting with this dude I thought had good chemistry with me, then his ex came out of nowhere, trying to pull my hair out after calling me a skinny fake bitch.”

Honestly, I’d known for years that no guy had good chemistry with my bestie, as her ex did.

Actually, she had two exes, but I only liked one of them.

“We don’t allow skinny shaming up in this house,” I declare as I roll up the sleeves of my crew neck sweater. “Just give me permission and I’ll get my bro to hack the system and get some footage. I can find her in no time.”

My bro wasn’t my ‘brother’ by blood. He was just one of the boys in my upbringing dealing with foster care that stood up for me no matter what.

He was also really good at finding shit.

Or people…

I never understood why Oliver never tried to help me find my parents.

A can of worms not worth opening?

“That’s not what pissed me off,” Mikayla whines.

“What did?”

“That she called me skinny!”

Here we go.

“I’ve been training with Leo for six months, Mack! Six months! Look at my ass! She’s round. She’s gained. She’s having a Kim Kardashian moment! Why is no one calling me curvy? I don’t got a thigh gap. My thighs rub and chaff like a bitch! I’m upset!” My girl exclaims as she turns around and gestures to the grand prize.

My bestie is both hilarious and absolutely obsessed with having the perfect booty.

Can I blame her?

“Sometimes I wonder if I need to get you therapy,” I mutter.

“MACK!”

“Alright, MickeyCurvyThighsForDays. That’s why you got wasted,” I conclude. I honestly know her shape—specifically her booty—is important to her. With how fast her metabolism is, she’s really dedicated a lot to building her shape into how she is now.

At the bars lately, the guys have been salivating over her. Now that she’s a redhead, I can only imagine the men who will be lining up to try to get a glimpse of her ass.

As if they’ll get very far.

Once they open their mouths, it’s clear these men are nothing but horny boys, begging for some action in the bedroom.

Pass.

“Yes,” Mikayla huffs and quietly adds, “And I accidentally texted Jayce.”

Come what now?!

I can’t stop myself from narrowing my eyes at the mere mention of that man’s existence.

Jayce Winchester.

Biggest douche of Strattonville, who didn’t deserve to date my bestie for two long-ass years.

I swear when they finally broke up, I was singing hymns to the heavens and giving offerings to all the various gods and deities for letting this come to fruition.

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