Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(8)

Claire doesn’t even pause before coming back at me just as hard.

“Matthews, we both know if I had a dick, mine would definitely be bigger.”

She walks out of the door, slamming it behind her. But I don’t give a shit. There’s only a beat of silence before the guys start laughing.

“Jesus, Crew. You really had to go there. That feisty little thing’s gonna make you pay for that shit this afternoon. Everything you ate over the past week is coming up,” TJ calls out from the room while I pee.

I shake my dick, flushing the toilet, before I turn toward the sink and see a pair of black basketball shorts on the counter. So, I put them on before I wash my hands.

“Hey,” I yell. “Someone bring me my phone and order some coffee.”

Nate opens the door, tossing my phone to me.

“We’re just gonna go grab some grub. We’ll bring back coffee too—”

I jerk my head toward my closet, not looking up from the screen as I text my lawyer, saying, “Tell Elvis to grab some clothes if he wants.”

“I’m good,” TJ shouts, and I chuckle.

I hear my bedroom door close as my fingers fly over the keys.

Me: Good morning. I hope you’re ready to earn your fee today.





Josh: I was just starting to get bored. You boys have been quiet. What am I dealing with?





Me: Got drunk married last night. No prenup. I need it taken care of quickly and quietly. I don’t want shit interfering with the trade.





Josh: Jesus, you really did mean I’d have to earn my fee. Girl on board?





Me: Yeah





Josh: Any viral presence we need to worry about?





Fuck. I’m not worried about myself. All my shit is run by other people, but I don’t know about her.

Me: Not sure. But her name is Eleanor Thomas…if memory serves. I’ll send where she’s staying and her number.





Josh: Keep it. I’ll be in touch by this afternoon. You realize it’s Saturday so we’re going to do someone a favor. The courts aren’t exactly open.





Me: Whatever it takes to make it happen.





Josh: …Does Barrett know?





The thought immediately gives me indigestion.

Me: She’s my next call.





Josh: Good luck, buddy.





I blow out a whoosh of breath because I’ll need all the luck I can get. Barrett is a fucking shark and one of the only people who doesn’t believe I’m a forgone fuckup conclusion. And I’d like to keep it that way.

What the fuck was I thinking last night?

My mind drifts, thinking over the night, remembering the guys texting me, the fucking drinks…the way she looked in that dress. Damn, I was done the minute she looked up at me when I caught her. A total slave to my dick.

Damn, did we bring out the devil in each other. That wild card was the most seductive experience of my life. I was lured directly down a tequila path and right into her pussy.

Shit, I would’ve died a happy man had I drowned in it.

A smirk grows on my face, even though Barrett’s number is ringing, because my eyes have dropped to my dick.

“This is your fault, buddy,” I whisper just as my agent answers.

“Josh texted. What the fuck did you do? Start from the top.”

Fuck. My. Life. Here we go.





four





“You think they got an Elvis suit I could wear?”





crew, yesterday


TJ: Hey, dick, get your ass down here. We’re at XS. It’s time to celebrate.





Nate: We got booze, girls, and more girls. Especially this one chick. She’s wild.





TJ: Yeah, fireworks are going off in more ways than one tonight.





I groan, staring at the group chat filled with endless badgering by these assholes as I talk to my agent.

“So, the trade’s looking good?”

“Yes,” Barrett answers enthusiastically. “The Niners are thrilled to steal you away. And I’ve been reassured they understand where you’re coming from and are happy to give you a reset. But that means you have to stay away from anyone and anything that could get you into trouble before contracts are drawn up and signed. Right now, we only have a verbal agreement.”

I’m nodding but still smirking.

“Does that mean no clubs tonight? Because the boys are blowing me up.”

She laughs.

“Club life is fine. How about avoiding public statements telling the team owner to suck your dick?”

“Fair.” I chuckle.

Another message pops up as if those two know I’ve gotten the okay.

Nate: You can’t skip out on Fourth of July. It’s time to eat BBQ and pussy. Who are you? GET HERE!





TJ: Come on, dickhead. What are you gonna do…wash your hair? Say affirmations in the fucking mirror? Get your fucking ass down here.