Page 80 of Personal Foul

“So what’s the story now then? So I’m aware of what I should be fucking worried about.”

“We’re… I don’t know what we fucking are.”

“Sounds promising.” Liam gives a tight smile.

“She has a lot of stuff on her plate. She’s worried about me getting drafted and leaving. We’ve got this project to finish. I’m giving her space.”

“She needs space from you already?”

“You know how she is. She likes her independence.”

“Right. And how’s that working with your need to fuck a different girl every week?” Liam asks flatly.

“I’m not fucking anyone else.”

“How the fuck did she get you to agree to that?” Liam’s brow furrows in disbelief.

“She didn’t. I just haven’t. Don’t want to.”

“Holy fuck.” Liam stares at me wide eyed.

“I told you I’m fucking capable. I just needed someone who could keep up.”

“And Wren can—you know what? I don’t fucking want to know.” Liam sits back again.

Waylon and Ben both burst out into laughter.

“Good. Because I’m not fucking sharing details with you either.”

“I, for one, am happy for you.” Waylon holds up his beer and tips in my direction.

“I am too. I just hope it works out.” Ben gives me a half smile.

“I mean I’m fucking happy for them. I’m just trying to figure out when the fuck hell froze over.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now can we go back to watching the game?”

THIRTY-FOUR

Wren

I runthrough my checklist for the third time this afternoon as Tom, Tammy, and a few of the other servers who are here early run around getting everything ready. I know we‘re prepared, that we’ve all spent the entire week making sure that every single detail was taken care of, but I can’t stop worrying there’s still something I’ve missed.

“I promise you’ve got this,” I hear my favorite voice behind me just as large hands wrap around my waist.

I turn to give him a kiss, but when I see him my jaw nearly drops as I take in the sight. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit and tie, his hair is freshly cut and styled, and his green eyes are bright, a designer watch on his wrist and a wicked little grin forming at the fact I’m gaping at him.

“Wow,” I whisper as I run my fingers down the black tie he has on.

“Did I just render you silent, Princess?”

“Just trying to find the right words for all this.”

“You could use the ones I love to hear you say.” He brushes his lips over mine.

“Which are?”

“Fuck me.” He smiles against my lips and then takes my mouth with his, kissing me hard as he pulls me tight against him.