Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Trina: Such a good big brother. Teaching him important life lessons.
Chase: You’ll be pleased to know Nacho didn’t try to hump Travis’s leg. So…maybe that’s progress for him?
Trina: Or perhaps your brother doesn’t have a humpable leg.
Chase: Fair point. My calf might just be very fuckable. But I’m concerned your dog might be trying to recruit a third guy into our night-time crew, Trina. He was pretty excited when the UPS driver showed up to drop off a delivery of protein powder right after you left.
Trina: Please say he didn’t try to make little leg babies with the delivery guy?
Chase: He’s easing him in with tongue first. He licked his leg rather than mated with it.
Trina: So…we keep proving the fuckable-ness of most legs.
Chase: You and your fancy words.
As I turn onto California Street, heading to my temporary quarters, my phone pings again. This time, though, it’s Ryker. Well, this is like the double jackpot text day. I open it, but there’s no message. Just a link to a Scrabble game. Bring it on. I hit accept. A minute later, he’s made the first move.
Latex.
Trina: Show off.
Ryker: That implies I only played that word to peacock in front of you.
Trina: You did.
Ryker: I play to win.
Trina: Well, Mister Competitive I’ve got…
I play the word…moxie.
Ryker: Yes, you do.
We vie a little more, then the group chat pings, the one I’ve so cleverly named The Hockey Guys At Your Service.
I open it as I reach Chase’s block.
Ryker: Placing an online order. Do you need anything from the store?
Trina: Hardware store? Shoe store? Toy shop?
Ryker: Hardware store, Trina. I’m ordering from the hardware store.
Trina: Oh, I love tools. A lot.
Chase: She definitely doesn’t need a hammer though.
Ryker: She has access to two already.
Trina: But can you order me some screws? It’ll help me with some items on my to-do list.
Chase: Fixed your last text for you.
He sends back a screenshot that changes the last word to screwing.
Trina: Actually, please make it a nailing.
Ryker: That’s a step above a screwing.
Chase: And right below a pounding. Pretty sure that’s on your list.
Trina: Why, yes it is. Then ideally, some avocado sushi later.
Ryker: Order accepted for everything.
That night, while I’m lounging on Chase’s couch with my main squeeze, and finishing a romance for this week’s book club, there’s a food delivery, but no chance for leg babies. Nacho stays on the sofa. I take the bags and thank the guy. Back inside, I unload some scrumptious groceries. Eggs and strawberries, blueberries and yummy bread, veggies and noodles. It’s a feast. The best part though is when the doorbell rings a few minutes later and a delivery guy from Ding and Dine drops off fresh avocado sushi.
And a note.
From the hockey guys.
It’s delicious, but the thought tastes even better. So good in fact that I turn on the last few minutes of some hockey. But when the game ends, one guy will likely come home tense and tight. The other exuberant.
Ryker is home first from his game, but I’m only half awake when he slides into bed.
“Saw you won,” I say sleepily.
“We did.”
“And you played well,” I add.
He chuckles as he nuzzles my neck. “How do you even know?”
“Hey, I’m a fast learner,” I say.
“Are you a hockey expert now like you’re a lexiphile?”
I roll my eyes at the ridiculous word. “Like I said, you’re such a show-off.”
He drops a soft kiss to my shoulder. “You like word show-offs.”
“Also, how do you even know the word for word lover?” Then I shake my head, answering the question myself. “One of your word podcasts.”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s called…wait for it…Lexiphiles.”
“Then impress me with some word thing you learned on the Lexiphiles podcast.”
In a raspy voice, he whispers, “Lexiphiles rhymes with sexiphiles.”
“Is that even a word?”
“I think the term for that is just horndog.”
I laugh, then it turns into a yawn.
“Go to sleep,” he says softly.
It’s sweet, the way he doesn’t push for sex, just like it’s sweet how he lowers his guard with me when the lights are down.
“I will, but how’s Chase?” I ask, a little worried since his team lost. Will he want to fuck it out or does he shut down after a loss? I’ve only seen him after a win—the other night. Ryker’s team lost that game on Friday, and he was moody. Then again, I think he was moody because he didn’t want to entertain a VIP guest. Maybe they’ve been doing this long enough that they let the losses roll off them.
Ryker’s quiet for a beat, then in a resigned voice, he says, “In a bit of a funk. I ran into him outside. He’s going for a walk.”
My brow knits. “Is that what he does when his team loses?”
“Sometimes. He just beats himself up so much.”
“Does he need anything?”
Ryker shakes his head. “To stop beating himself up,” he says with a heavy sigh.