Page 64 of Who’s Playing You (In The Nick of Time #1)
NICK SOBA
T hose two pink lines had been so bright that they may as well have been a neon sign illuminating the pitch black desert night.
I’d been floating on cloud nine, on top of the fucking world ever since. Scottie was still adjusting, coming to terms with what this meant.
Don’t get me wrong, she was excited AF. She was just… in shock.
Who could blame her though?
That fuck-wad ex-husband of hers had told her that she was the “broken” one. Meanwhile it had been him that was infertile.
Fucking piece of shit.
Yeah, and so what if I had hacked into their medical records? So sue me.
I knew for a fact that she never had any fucking fertility issues. It was all that limp-dick toolbox. Once the doctor had told him, he’d gone home and told Scottie that she was the issue. He’d made her feel less than.
Then he’d left her.
Honestly though, that was the greatest gift he gave her.
He took his infertile limp-dick across the country, and far out of her life.
And here we were: she was with me, and pregnant. Considering how dark those two pink lines were, I hoped that it meant that I’d gotten her pregnant on the first try. I don’t know why, but the thought brought me such deep satisfaction.
Scottie had made an appointment with her OB, but we couldn’t go right away. I couldn’t wait for that appointment though, and for them to confirm how far along she was - to tell me what I suspected and hoped to be true.
I was lost in my own world, grinning like a fool.
We were flying home from an away game and heading into another busy week, which was exciting for the fact that we’d won yet another game and I was certain we’d win the next game too, but I also hated this because I’d been away from Scottie the past couple of days, and would be again next week.
My elated demeanor since Scottie and I learned of our news hadn’t gone unnoticed though.
My entire team was under the impression that I liked them now - or some shit like that.
They were mistaken though, because even though I respected them and maybe liked some of them, what I really liked was winning.
And I liked them all a hell of a lot more when we were winning.
But if my elevated joy had them feeling more relaxed, happy and motivated… who was I to correct them? It certainly didn’t mean that I wanted to talk to them on this flight though. There were a select few people I was okay talking to right now, and Nik and Nic happened to make the cut.
As if my thoughts summoned them, I looked at my phone that was buzzing non-stop - thank God for wifi - and I seemed to come into the thread in the middle of their conversation.
Trickie Nickies
The Love Machine:
I told you, we don’t have any injuries. Why do you keep asking?! Are YOU injured?
The Holy One:
No. And can’t a guy ask questions? Damn, dude.
The Love Machine:
We all know your dick must be injured because by the sound of your latest “situation”, you got nothing going but a party of one where you tickle your own pickle.
The Holy One:
That’s fresh coming from you. You convinced Valentina to touch your teenie weenie yet?
The Love Machine:
Ahh, man, you’re so sweet! Worrying about my GIGANTIC elephantiasis dick. Let me assure you that there’s nothing wrong with it, and I’ve never gotten any complaints. The only complaint I’ve gotten is that it’s too big.
The Holy One:
Oh, yeah, I’m sure.
You’re so big Lovebug that they probably complain that your cock chokes them when you’re fucking them, right?
The Love Machine:
EXACTLY!! See, Soba gets it.
The Holy One:
Well, when they got a mouth full of your dick, I’d hope they’re choking - at least a little.
Nah, you don’t get it. He claims to be “so big” that when he’s in their vag, fucking them, that his dick reaches all the way up through their bodies and plays tonsil hockey in their throat.
The Love Machine:
The Love Machine:
That’s what’s up.
The Holy One:
I literally have no follow-up to that.
As you shouldn’t.
The Love Machine:
It’s okay, Soba, he doesn’t understand the struggle that you and I have to deal with on the daily. When you’re as BLESSED and well-endowed as we are… well, it’s a struggle, now isn’t it?
The Holy One:
Fuck you assholes. You know I’m bigger than both of you.
Are you going to let your reporter friend quote you on that?
The Love Machine:
Nah, he’ll tell her it’s off the record.
The Holy One:
Whatever. Fuck you guys.
The Love Machine:
Speaking of fucking and records… Soba!
What’s up?
The Love Machine:
How goes your marathon fuck-fest? Still going strong? Learning something new every day?
Every day.
The Holy One:
WTF does that even mean?
The Love Machine:
IYKYK and you obviously… you don’t.
Truth.
The Holy One:
The Love Machine:
And the fuck-fest?
So strong.
The Love Machine:
You lock that ball and chain around her yet?
Sure AF did! We see the doctor in two weeks.
The Holy One:
ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?
The Love Machine:
See, I have two things to say right now.
The first thing is, you can’t take away from Soba his level of dedication, determination and commitment.
When he sets his mind to something, he achieves it.
This is why he’s a consummate winner. I greatly admire you for your work ethic and dedication, my friend.
Amen, brother.
The Holy One:
And the second?
The Love Machine:
Second, even though I thought you were absolutely bat-shit-crazy for trying to knock some chick up - and before you go nuts, I know her name is Scottie. That said, I think you’re still fucking crazy.
Crazy about her.
The Holy One:
Or just crazy.
Let me put it this way: while you two are playing pocket pool with your growers-not-showers, I’m over here fucking my baby mama multiple times a day without anything between us. You two ever feel the blissed-out sensation of skin-on-skin - INSIDE a vagina?
Silence?
Didn’t think so.
That said, until you’ve felt this unmatched nirvana, you will not understand why I have every intention of keeping Scottie VERY happy - and pregnant - for the foreseeable future.