Page 183 of Wrong Pucking Player

“That isn’t helping,” I whine. “He’s hard to crack.”

“With your seduction techniques? You just need to bend over and wiggle your ass, and that man will drop and worship you. Did you give the titties a shake? He loves your titties.”

“I need to start wearing crop tops around the house.”

“WITH SHORTS!” Mikayla emphasizes.

“Is that what you did with Maddox this weekend?”

“Oh, no, I was just wearing Jayce’s jersey.”

WHAT IN ALL THINGS HOLY?!!

“That douche’s jersey?! Bitch, what madness possessed you to wear the wrong fucking jersey in front of your husband.”

“Girl, he ain’t my husband,” Mikayla corrects me and adds, “Wrong pucking jersey.”

“He probably was so mad.”

“Yeah, and I got punished with the best sex ever.”

“Wait, but you were at Damien’s place.” I know she mentioned that earlier.

“So?”

“So, where was Damien.”

“He was there.”

“Girllll.” My eyes widen as I press my hands against her rosy cheeks. “Are you living the hockey booktoker dream?”

“What is the hockey booktoker dream?”

“I swear you read that book. What’s it called? The one with the doctor.”

“Are you two hearing yourselves?” Dimitri interrupts, which makes us both realize they’ve been listening to us ramble this whole time.

Oh, fucking shit!

Mikayla is gawking at the realization these two were listening to our entire conversation, which has me pointing between Felix and Dimitri.

“This,”—I wave my hands around our makeshift circle—“is between us.” Then I point to them specifically. “Or I’ll make your lives a living hell.”

“Fair,” Felix replies with a shrug. “Don’t wanna deal with you. Wyatt says you’re dangerous to mess with, so I’ll believe him.”

“What you mean he said I’m dangerous?” I gasp. What has this man been telling people? “Wyatt! Where’s the equipment manager? I need to beat his ass.”

I probably would try to avoid him if I could.

Some of the Pincers overhear my shouts, encouraging them to laugh and groan on Wyatt’s behalf.

Men. Always supporting their own to avoid the wrath of a woman.

“Mackenzie! It’s six in the fucking morning.”

“I don’t care! Where’s his ass?” I huff. I’m not sure which Pincer said that, but I’ll get a better run down of everyone again after the gym session. I’m familiar with everyone appearance-wise, but it’s just the names that are taking a while for me to memorize the face to the name.

“Pucking! Not fucking!” Some of the Vipers correct, which has their group chuckling while the Pincers grunt in dismay.

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