Page 51 of Wrong Pucking Player

“That’s the old hag who loves spending everyone else’s money, yes?”

I’m genuinely surprised Armani even remembers that detail.

“Yup. Auntie Beverley loves to act like a victim and not the culprit of financial burden and taking advantage of the system,” Wyatt grumbles in disgust.

“Why can’t you take her to your place?”

“I don’t necessarily have my own place yet,” Wyatt admits.

“Your Dad’s place?” Oscar questions. “You guys are well off.”

“My brothers also live there,” he admits.

I can’t help but wish to sink back into unconsciousness so I can avoid where this conversation is going.

“And so?”

“It’s complicated,” Wyatt mutters.

Complicated? More like embarrassing to bring your poor girlfriend to your father’s mansion of a home, where he barely stays, while your three younger brothers judge everything I wear for the sake of proving the point-blank difference between our status quo.

“How so? I’d be damn proud to show my family my girlfriend,” Oscar surprisingly admits. “Not when she’s unconscious like this, but you get it.”

“It’s not like I’m not proud to have her in my life,” Wyatt immediately defends before he groans. “We’re not… dating anymore. We’ve been broken up for five-plus years.”

“So, you’ve been back in Strattonville for longer than twenty-four hours and haven’t made a move?”

“Wh-What?”

“I said what I said,” Oscar doesn’t bother to repeat himself. “From the way you were eyeing me for taking her hand and leading her to the head office to get bandaged up, I assumed you two were back together.”

“I… well…” Wyatt doesn’t have anything to say about that.

“Hmph,” Oscar seems uninterested now. “You don’t need to know where she lives until she’s ready to share it with you. However, you should really re-evaluate yourself and what you want if you can’t bring your girl to your family’s place when she’s in need.”

“I never said it like that,” he defends.

“I heard what you said,” Oscar emphasizes. “And that’s the message I got from the imagined scenario. You don’t want it becoming a reality because you’re afraid of confrontation or whatever is stopping you from growing some balls and claiming what’s yours.”

“What are you? A fucking relationship counselor?”

“I wish I was. At least you’d pay me a hundred bucks to give you factual advice and not the bullshit they sell to the world to make millions a year,” he dismisses. “Play with what you want and watch. It may get snatched away.”

“Excuse me?” Wyatt sounds territorial now.

I don’t need to see his face to feel the shift in the air around me.

“I said what I said.” I’m beginning to realize Oscar doesn’t like to repeat himself. “Andrews came back looking like a hot cake coming out of a steaming oven. If you think she’s going to remain single for long, you’re hallucinating.”

I don’t know why, but having Oscar’s honest opinion of my appearance makes me feel all giddy inside. He’s the person I’d least expected to give me a compliment, so the fact he’s willing to admit I’m attractive is a rare occurrence.

He wouldn’t say it to my face but hearing it with my own ears makes me feel good.

I’ve always been insecure about my femininity because I’m not the typical ‘girly’ girl small towns produce. Only recently have I attempted to look more “attractive.” Wearing a sports bra and shorts instead of baggy sweats and huge-ass tops.

Growing my hair to be longer gives me a feminine look than keeping it short, which delivers a tomboy look. I’m sure Wyatt doesn’t really care about those things, but then again, maybe he doesn’t believe I can pull other guys.

I’m not even sure.

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