Page 18 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Jax

I’m only doing it to save Molly money. I know she’s not enthusiastic about spending so much. I’d have no problem springing for a suite so we could each have a bed in separate rooms, but I also see she feels guilty about that. So we’ll stay put. It’s no big deal.

She spends a long time in the bathroom getting ready.

I hope she’s not upset. When she finally emerges, her eyes are a bit pink and bright, confirming my suspicions.

I guess I could say it serves her right for insisting on coming with me, but damn, I don’t want her to be sad.

She’s got enough problems, with a lying, cheating fiancé.

Other than that, she looks amazing—jeans that show off her fantastic ass and long legs, a sexy, lacy cami and a loose cardigan over it. Her bright hair’s the usual mess of shoulder-length waves, her lips shiny. “Ready!”

I changed while she was in there, so I’m ready too, also wearing jeans. If I’m wrong and the restaurant is super classy, we’ll both be in jeans.

Coastal Kitchen is nice, but we’re dressed fine. Everly and her boyfriend Wyatt are already sitting at a long table. Wyatt plays for Grandpa’s team, the Condors. How does it feel to be dating the team owner’s daughter? I guess he’s okay with it, since he and Everly both look happy.

We all greet each other. Everly and Wyatt are sitting on a long banquette loaded with blue and white cushions on one side of the table, so Molly and I take seats on tall white stools opposite them.

We’re still looking over the drinks menu when Taylor and JP arrive, followed soon after by Lacey and Théo.

We may have weird relationships, but we’re all close in age and we’re all united by hockey and our wacky family so hopefully tonight isn’t a fiasco.

“It’s Trivia Night here!” Molly announces beside me, holding up the table card.

“Really?” I turn to her.

“Yep!”

We lift a hand in the air and high five each other.

“This is a thing?” Taylor asks.

“Yeah, and we kick ass at trivia,” I reply. “Let’s sign up.”

It doesn’t start until later, so we’ll have time to eat first. I think better on a full stomach.

We order bottles of wine, then appetizers to share.

There’s lots of noisy chatter and laughter, food being passed around and glasses filled.

Molly talks animatedly with Taylor and Lacey, laughing at the story about the fight that broke out at Lacey and Théo’s wedding, and telling them about her job teaching third grade.

“I work with kids too,” Taylor says. “They’re so much fun.”

“They can be. One of my kids had been away for a few days because his grandfather passed away. When he came back, he said that he’d been away because his grandpa died and he had to be a polar bear.”

They gaze blankly back at her.

“He was a pall bearer,” she finishes smiling, cracking everyone up. “It was so cute.”

At one point, JP returns from the men’s room, shaking his head. “Well, that was awkward.”

“What?” Wyatt asks, picking up a potato skin.

“Some dude in the bathroom came and stood at the urinal right beside me. Every other one was empty.”

All the guys make appropriate sounds of consternation.

The women exchange looks.

“At least he didn’t try to make conversation,” I say.

“Oh, he did,” JP says.

We all groan even louder.

“That’s not allowed?” Molly asks with a grin.

“It’s an unwritten guy rule,” I reply. “There’s nothing than can’t wait to be said until you’re both finished.”

Everyone cracks up.

“Are there other unwritten guy rules?” Everly asks.

“Oh yeah,” I say. “We have to kill all the spiders.”

“Not me,” JP says. “I’m not going near those fuckers.”

Taylor grins. “I’m the spider killer.”

“Also, when you’re in the bathroom in a stall and someone else comes in, you have to cough or make some kind of noise so they know they’re not alone,” Wyatt puts in.

The rest of us guys nod solemnly in agreement.

“And never leave a bro hanging when he tries to high five you,” I add. “That’s just wrong.”

The women are falling over in laughter.

Molly and I convince the others to sign up for the trivia event. As things get started, she and I do our secret handshake—two fingers, a couple of backhanded slaps and a fist bump.

“What was that?” Théo asks, ginning widely.

“Lucky handshake,” I reply. “We do it every trivia contest.”

I catch Everly giving me a strange look.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, lips tipped up. “It’s cute.”

“Cute,” I scoff. “Please. This is serious business.”

“I’m already regretting participating in this,” Wyatt says.

I rub my hands together.

I’m having fun. With my family.

There’s a lot less tension than I’ve ever felt at a family get-together and it’s a goddamn relief, to be honest. And it’s fun being here with Molly. She fits right in, and everyone loves her.

“How did you get into trivia?” Everly asks me curiously.

I shrug. “I read a lot when we travel…on the plane, on buses. Weird stuff just sticks in my head.”

The announcer begins the trivia night, welcoming everyone, outlining the rules and the prizes. “Tonight’s theme is ‘Carnal Knowledge.’ ”

“Wait, what?” I turn to Molly at the same moment she looks at me, her eyes big as plates.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” she asks.

“That’s right, it’s all about the bow-chicka-wow-wow!” the announcer booms. “Driving Miss Daisy! Doing the horizontal greased-weasel tango.” The crowd makes a displeased noise. “Putting ranch dressing in Hidden Valley!” Now the crowd boos. “All right, all right, enough of that! Let’s get started!”

“I know a lot about this subject,” Wyatt says enthusiastically. “I was afraid I was going to look stupid.”

Everly cracks up, falling against him.

“First question! Where did the term blow job come from?”

We’re given four possible answers. Molly and I confer quietly, our heads close together. Close enough to smell that fresh grapefruit smell. “A musician who said it was like playing a horn?” she whispers incredulously.

“Sounds plausible to me.”

“No! That is not the answer.”

“Okay, which is it?”

“Number four.” A merging of the Victorian slang for prostitute and ejaculation.

Christ. I can’t even think about these answers without turning red in the face. How the hell did we end up at sex trivia night?

“Early condoms were made of everything but…a. animal intestines; b. animal horns; c. linen soaked in chemical, dried and tied on with a ribbon; or d. snakeskin.”

“Snakeskin condom,” Everly muses. “Hmmm.”

Molly and I again confer. Again, she seems confident of her answer. “I have no fucking clue,” I whisper. “Except an animal horn on my dick sounds pretty damn painful.”

She winces. “Um, yeah. It’s snakeskin. For real.”

“What is the average number of sex partners for women?” the announcer calls. “Three, seven, nine, or twenty?”

I look at Molly. Her lips twist up. “I think it’s seven.”

I blink at her. Has she been with seven guys? That’s…well, that’s none of my business. “Okay.” Once again I have to go with her answer.

The next question is average number of sex partners for men—four, seven, nine-point-five, or eleven.

“Nine-point-five?” I ask. “How do you have half a sex partner?”

“Maybe blow-up dolls count,” Harrison says, cracking us all up again.

“It’s an average,” Molly says. “What do you think? You’re a man.”

“It has to be eleven.”

She bites her lip. “Are you sure?”

“I have no idea.”

“Okay, eleven.”

“What percentage of woman can orgasm from intercourse alone? A. 25%; b. 50%; c. 85%; d. 100%.”

“Twenty-five percent,” Molly whispers immediately.

“Uh, wow.” I tug at the collar of my shirt. Is it getting hot in here? I think it is.

“How many nerve endings does the clitoris have?” The possible answers are three hundred, one thousand, eight thousand and ten thousand.

“What’s the difference between a bar and a clitoris?” Lacey asks.

We all look at her.

“Men have no trouble finding a bar,” she answers.

The women laugh, the men groan. “Not you, honey,” she says, patting Théo’s cheek.

He smirks.

“It’s the only organ in the human body whose sole purpose is pleasure,” Molly informs us.

I draw back to level a look at her. “Jesus. That wasn’t even a question.”

She tosses her head with a know-it-all look that’s so damn cute.

We run through questions about how many women report having an orgasm during anal sex, where a man’s G-spot is, the best position for women to have an orgasm, and if men can fake orgasms.

“Why would you want to?” Wyatt asks with a puzzled frown.

“I have,” JP says.

“Wait, what?” Taylor glares at him.

“Not with you, babe.” He grimaces. “I just wanted to be done and out of there. Wasn’t happening.” He pauses. “I was hammered.”

“Well, we’re all getting to know each other so much better,” Molly quips.

In the end, Molly and I are triumphant. It’s the usual for us, but this time I have to give her all the credit.

I like sex, but apparently I’m not as well informed about it as she is.

The only question we got wrong was the average number of sex partners for men, which is seven and less than I guessed.

“You’re quite the sexpert,” I say on the drive back to the resort later.

“Ha ha. Apparently Steve didn’t think so.”

I can’t stop the disgusted grunt that emerges from my throat. “He’s an idiot.”

“Well, you don’t know my sexpertise in bed,” she points out. “It’s one thing to know trivia, but something else to put it into practice.” She almost sounds sad.

Man, Chucky did a number on her.

I don’t want to think about her sexpertise in bed. She’s beautiful and smells delicious and she’s sexy as fuck. I’d be only too happy to… stop .

If Chucky didn’t appreciate her skills, that’s his loss.

“I’m surprised at how many women orgasm from anal sex,” I comment.

Why? Why am I still talking about sex?

“It’s not surprising,” she says. “I mean, when you think about it…” Her voice trails off. “Never mind.”

Yeah, this is probably not a good topic of conversation. Do I really want to know what she knows about anal sex?