Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Shark tensed, his chest drawing up. “I do too. I know I do. What’s your name? How do I know you?” A sudden short and menacing growl burst out of him. “I don’t like not knowing how I know you. Makes me think we’re enemies.” He began to shift his weight, his free hand reaching to his pocket.
“Oh! Whoa there, buddy.” The other one grabbed his hand, then stepped in front of him, eyes on Brett, but said to the man now somewhat behind him, “You know him because he’s a football player.”
“A football player?”
He clapped his hand on Shark’s shoulder, relaxing a little as the tension left his friend. He moved so he was sideways, indicating Brett again with his beer. “This here is the reason we won the Lombardi last year. Brett motherfucking Broudou. The Brood Machine himself. He’s here. At our humble abode.”
Shark’s eyes got big, and he was all smiles after that. “Whoa, boy—” He began to stick his hand out.
His friend now shouldered him out of the way, speaking straight to Brett. “It’s a damn kick in the pants to see you here. What brings you here? This is my sister’s business. We’re having a little party. Goddamn tickled pink having a bonafide celebrity among us.” He held his hand out. “I’m Rowdy.”
Brett removed his hand from behind me but nabbed my shirt and yanked me against him so my entire side was plastered to him. Then he shook the man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Shark whooped, jumping up. “Goddamn! Goddammit. This is something else. Buck! Buck! Do you know who this is?”
My eyebrows drew low because it was a sight to see as this biker had been snarling one second, about to draw some kind of weapon on us, and within three seconds, he’d transformed to Will Ferrell’s character in Elf the day they announced Santa was at the store.
He was pointing at Buck, his hand raised as high in the air as he could get, still bouncing. “This is Brett Broudou. He’s that tackle guy. The one who smashes quarterbacks for a living.” His smile stretched from ear to ear. “It’s a fucking honor to have you here. You drink? You like beer? What do you like?” His eyes fell to me. “What does your woman like?” He rounded again, his hand cupping around his mouth. “Hey, Tina! Tina! Woman.”
We couldn’t see her, but we heard from the side of the building, the side that faced the dancing area. “WHAT? GODDAMN, SHARK. SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m working here and this is my business, and…” A very small and petite woman came around the corner, wiping her hands on a towel. She wasn’t looking up, but snarling as she finally did, saying, “…this ain’t the clubhouse. We’re not here to serve you—” And she stopped, taking in the scene as Shark had gone back to bouncing, jerking his finger in Brett’s direction. Her eyebrows slammed down. Her snarl never left. “Fucking wha—” Her eyes went to Brett, skimmed over, went to me, and she did a double take. She gasped, her body flinching as if she’d been slapped. “Holy fucking shit balls of all hair balls. You’re Willow Harm.”
Shark stopped bouncing. “She’s what?” He pivoted on his feet, studying me again.
Rowdy said under his breath, “Goddamn, she is.” His voice was quiet.
I flicked him a look, and he gave me a slight grin and another nod.
His sister was rooted in place, her eyes blinking as if she thought I was a mirage.
There was a brief moment where no one said anything more.
Shark’s head was jerking from Rowdy to Tina, to me, to Brett, to me, and back to his friends. He scowled. “I don’t know you.”
Tina cleared her throat, and she took a long jerking step toward me, saying softly, “This here’s—”
“I’m a cheerleader for the Kings football team,” I said quickly.
Shark continued to look at me as if I told him I had three breasts. Oddly intrigued, but he cast Brett a nervous look.
“And cheerleaders aren’t supposed to date the players. It’s against policy so I could get fired. That’s why we’re here. We’re dating in secret.” I didn’t want to see the weirdness that came over people when they found out the truth, just like how Rowdy and Tina reacted. I caught the sympathy in both of their gazes. Sympathy or pity, sometimes I couldn’t decipher between them, and I got tired of it. It was easier this way.
I sent both a silent pleading look, just one, and it was short.
Shark had to ponder on my statement before he burst out, “Well, what the fuck do they know? They can’t tell you who you can fuck or not fuck—”
Rowdy added, “They’re dating.”
“—date, fuck, it’s all the same. It’s none of their goddamn fucking shitting damn business.” He loped to me and threw an arm around my shoulders. He squeezed me to him in a half hug. “You and your man can party here any time you want. Drinks are on the house—”