Page 116 of Wrong Pucking Player

“I’ll gladly help you,” he sweetly says and leans into whisper something in her ear.

I barely catch it.

“Then you owe me, Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie.

He calls her Mackenzie now.

“Go smoke,” she huffs and pushes his face away from her. “And don’t take eons. I hate eating cold food.”

“How about if it’s dessert?”

“What kind of dessert?”

That gets my girl’s attention.

She loves sweet shit.

“Your favorite.”

“You, Armani, don’t know my favorite dessert.” She laughs. “Even Wyatt doesn’t know.”

“I do know.” He seems confident about that.

I, on the other hand, am feeling shittier by the second because she’s right.

I don’t know her favorite dessert.

Fuck.

What DO I know about my girl?

“Only difference between Cyrus Jr. and me is that I actually pay attention,” Armani notes and dares to add. “And use my brain instead of my cock.”

Xandra gasps.

“T-That’s…”

“True,” Oscar finishes and shrugs before taking the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his black sweatpants.

I’m surprised he’s still wearing his jersey from earlier today.

No wonder why it was missing during the laundry run.

“I’ll wait for him to change my mind, but since you’re not talking, I can be rather confident with my assumptions.”

“It’s a …work in progress,” she groans.

The fact she’s still even trying to defend me only shows what a wimp I’ve been in emphasizing what we are.

That’s the thing.

I can’t confidently say we’re together.

“H-He has my name tatted on his cock.”

I have to fight off a groan just to see what Oscar has to say about that.

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