Kicking Reality
She fucking loved him or should I say still loves him. They were still living together.
The dick fucks two whores then he expects to marry Emmy? You’re damn right it pissed me off.
It’s the reason why I stopped contacting her. She enabled his poor behavior and in my eyes—that made her weak.
That whole family fucked me off right now. Chris was also on my back about training harder, constantly pointing out my weaknesses and giving me a massive complex. Abbi kept pushing me to call my mom. Why couldn’t Mom call me? Was it that hard to pick up the phone and call your only son? Obviously, she never cared when I was a kid so why start caring now?
I didn’t need anyone. Just someone occasionally to suck me off and that wouldn’t be Emmy. At least, I didn’t think it would be her.
Until she texted me.
As much as I wanted to ignore her—I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t stop myself.
We landed just before midday and made a quick dash to the hotel to freshen up. It wasn’t as smooth as I liked it, spotted by some fans in LAX where we were asked for some pics. Being that they were girls, Ash lapped it up and grabbed the number of the blonde with the bouncing tits. I just wanted to shower, get the grime and grease off me, then meet with the officials—not think about pussy.
“You want the blonde’s number?” Ash hands the paper over in the limo.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you score a blowey off any of the girl
s at the apartment last week?”
The girls that hung around our apartment were the same old leeches that followed us at each game and hung around the entrance of the locker rooms hoping to score some dick. The older one, a Scandinavian woman, sucked me off with no happy ending. I wasn’t into it. When I started to chafe, I politely told her to leave. It was the oddest thing ever. I’d normally be pulling her hair tight and watching her eyes bulge from my cock going down her throat.
“Yeah, I did,” I say, to shut him up.
He doesn’t press further, busying himself with his cell.
“Emmy is taking us out for a late lunch after the meeting. You got plans?”
It catches my attention yet I’m quick to keep my smile hidden. “Nope, where at?”
“Hold on.” He types quickly and responds a couple of seconds later. “Some Indian place near Melrose.”
I hide the smile on my face, grabbing my cell and typing a message to her.
Indian? You know what happens to Ash when he eats Indian? Burning assholes.
I see the bubble before her response appears on the screen. Ash has taken the moment to call Alessandra and already, they had gotten into a fight over him being photographed with his arm around some woman at Heathrow.
Burning assholes. Great visual yet funny at the same time. I’ll make sure I order him the vindaloo.
I sit back into the chair and stare out the window. Emmy was never on my mind before our trip back home, I guess since she announced her engagement on TV I figured she would forever be gone from our lives. We rarely saw each other and every time we did, it stirred this weird emotion—like nostalgia. She was always around us as kids, annoying the fuck out of me and Ash. Third wheel as I liked to call it. It wasn’t until we left to train for the leagues did I think—thank God—we got rid of her.
“Fucking ball breaker. Did you see me fuck that woman in Heathrow? No, but Sandy seems to think so!” he yells into the air as I purposely ignore him.
What the fuck’s new anyway?
“Hey lil’ sis.” Ash places his arm on her shoulder, pulling her in roughly for a hug.
“Little? We’re twins. Granted, you came first. But I slid out of Mom’s vagina right after you did.”
Ash scowls. “Oh . . . HEY . . . thanks for that.”
She’s still in his arms, watching me with a smile planted on her face. She looks so goddamn cute in this tight black bodysuit and skinny blue jeans. It shows every curve and when I say cute . . . I mean fuck. I could just eat her.