Logan

“Really hate that they make us stay here on Friday nights before the game,” Mitch, who has been bitching all fucking day, says as he gets out of my truck at the hotel.

I grab my bag and get out, asking, “What else you gonna do the night before a big game?” I know damn well what it is he wants to do.

“You fucking kidding me?” he huffs, and I can’t help laughing.

“Not like she’s gonna let you in,” I remind him of why he’s actually pissed off.

“Never eaten pussy on two separate occasion with the same fucking chick and not gotten mine, too. That’s some bullshit, man.”

I grip his shoulder and try not to laugh again. “I’m gonna tell you this again.”

“Don’t wanna hear it,” he grumbles.

I say it anyway. “Treats before eats.”

“Shouldn’t be that way.”

“It is that way. I don’t understand what the hell you’re missing. Pussy gets a lickin’ ’cause it’s already taken the dick-in.”

“Links, I love you, brother, but right now, I need you to shut the fuck up,” Mitch nearly begs.

“Ask me how many pussies I’ve licked.”

He opens the door. “You’re a selfish bastard.”

“But I get fucked.” I pat his back when I walk by.

“Oh, yeah.” He laughs from behind me.

I stop dead in my tracks and look back at him.

“How long’s it been?”

“Don’t push me, man,” I warn.

“I know the answer,” he taunts.

“Been busy.”

“Been slightly obsessed.” He laughs again, and I turn around.

“No intention of fucking her, Mitch. You got it? None.”

“Then what the fuck? Fawn comes to our place, begging to suck on the Links’ lollypop and denied.”

“Something about her rubbed me the wrong way. I told you about the shit in the bathroom last night,” I remind him.

He shrugs. “She’s a little crazy, but damn near hits all your requirements.”

“Crazy is lazy. I don’t want that in bed. But a little twisted in the head makes them good in bed.”

“Love your advice, man, but here’s some from me to you. You need to bust a nut before you end up falling in love with the one you won’t touch.”

“Not gonna fall in love,” I assure him.

“Then tomorrow night, after the game, we’re throwing a party.” He winks.

I almost tell him no. I mean, who the hell will watch after London? But it’s a long weekend. Tessa and Dad mentioned London riding back with them to go home for a couple nights. I told them I would bring her back Monday night.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Plans are set. The house is going to be ready for a fucking party, and Mitch is right, I do need to get laid.

I’m never going to be the guy who breaks a heart, not one like hers. I’m invested in her. She’s not family, but I sure as fuck see her in my life twenty years down the road. And I’m not the guy I picture her looking at with those big eyes, smiling because I did something like bring her flowers, rubbed her feet, or told her she’s fucking beautiful when she rolls over in the morning and her hair is fucked up like it was today. I don’t want to kiss London Fields in the morning and act like her mouth tastes like fucking Skittles when it tastes like last night’s mouth shot of my swimmers.

She would see past my shit. We have known each other so damn long we know nearly everything there is to know about one another. I’m steps away from knowing what she looks like in my bathrobe and slippers, and that, that’s not happening.

No one could be enough for her. Hell, I’m not even a second date kind of guy since the crazy bitch in high school who lied and told me she was knocked up.

No fucking way she was. I wrapped that shit tight. Hell, my dad used to leave boxes of condoms under my pillow like he was the tooth fairy or some shit. No clue how he knew I was fucking, but the damn things showed up the day after my dick fired off its first round in something besides a tissue, shower, or blanket.

Bitch pulled that right when my parents’ marriage went south, and that was enough of a fucking sign for me.

Peace. The fuck. Out.

Love is a joke played on fools, and I’m nobody’s fool.