Page 123 of Wrong Pucking Player

“It’s fine. No need to apologize,” I emphasize. I feel as though we’re not going to talk about why he’s reacting like this. And that’s fine. He’ll tell me when he’s ready to. “You okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” he huffs.

“I’m fine, really.” I press. “Let me change.”

“Take a warm shower,” he insists. “I’m sure we’re waiting for Wyatt’s food order to come in. Gives you time to get warmed up. We’ll clean this up.”

“Okay.” That sounds like a good idea, especially now that I realize my body is shaking from the cold. “Let me waddle away.”

I don’t take a step before I’m lifted without explanation. I can’t even squeal, my eyes landing on Armani, who’s carrying me princess-style. It’s only a short walk to the washroom, but he places me right in there.

“Where are the clothes you need?”

“Neon teal and green gym bag in the living room.” He nods and is going to leave, but I realize I may not have underwear in there. “Uh… but I don’t have any underwear left! Um… maybe I can just wear these for no—”

“You don’t need underwear, Kenzie,” he emphasizes. “Have a problem, sit on my lap the whole time, and no one will see you pump ass cheeks.”

He walks away before I can answer, leaving me to blush.

“He checks out my ass cheeks,” I mutter to myself as my cheeks only feel hotter. “Fuck.”

I dare to glance at the mirror, realizing very quickly that I’m wearing white.

In all the wrong places.

Laser beams nipples on dock since I’m wearing those lace pink bras with no padding to cover those hard buds. Matched with the fact you can see the shade of my skin, and even my matching panties make me fight off a groan.

“Fuck!” I can’t feel more embarrassed. “Wyatt and Leo saw that. Wait… Oscar saw that!”

There’s nothing I can do now.

The damage is done.

Yet I don’t know how I’m going to end the night eating dinner at the kitchen island with Armani and Cyrus Jr. after that fiasco.

I can die now. I’ll take my level of shame to heaven.

MY CONFLICTED EQUIPMENT MANAGER

~MACKENZIE~

“Alright, I’ll admit that was a good idea,” I announce as I walk down the hall toward the kitchen.

Armani is leaning against the kitchen island, his fingers pausing in their tapping pace to acknowledge my entrance.

“You’re not cold?” he inquires as he takes me in from head to toe.

I’d ended up only having black shorts and a neon teal sports bra. The previous attire I thought I had was what I wore earlier this morning before I felt unwell.I like wearing comfy baggy clothes to bed, so if it does get chilly, I won’t be cold, and if it gets too hot, I can strip right out of it.

Tonight, beggars can’t be choosers.

“Not yet,” I admit and shrug when I reach the spot with the open panel. Now it’s covered with white plastic that is sealed with black hockey tape. “You fixed it?”

“I did fix it,” he admits, though his eyes are still on me. “Texting Oliver now. He’ll escalate the renovations.”

“You have everyone’s number,” I point out and look around to confirm the water situation is cleaned up.

At least nothing was damaged.

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