The Game (That Girl, #2)(8)

“What’s wrong?” Lynlee asks.

Lying, I say, “God, those sounds make me want to puke. He’s such a f*cking pig.”

“Let’s go eat away our problems and plan our next semester of college.”

“Sounds good, you little Greaser.”

“Stay gold, sister, stay gold.”

When we were younger, we watched The Outsiders every Saturday morning in place of cartoons. We didn’t have anyone to make us hot pancakes or to have fresh milk in the fridge for cereal. Nope, it was either mac and cheese or ramen noodles. We ate, lived, and breathed all things Outsiders. Hell, we were real life Greasers, the nasty, trashy girls who were foul mouthed and going nowhere. We never vocalized it to each other, but we both dreamt of becoming Cherry. It was the nickname we called each other growing up, and it drove my Old Man f*cking nuts. “Quit talking in motherf*cking code, you two.” We never listened. Well, during one of our many fights after we first reunited, we decided to have a final funeral for our old nicknames Cherry and Ponyboy. Weird doesn’t even begin to describe us.





Chapter 4





Levi



“Levi.”

Fuck, if I could move right now, I’d put a boot straight up Lynlee’s ass. She’s been yelling for the last thirty minutes. I know exactly what she’s trying to do, and I want none of it. The yelling stops, and my cellphone damn near vibrates off the nightstand.



Lynlee: Are you awake?

Lynlee: What are you doing?

Lynlee: I want to see your champion face.

Lynlee: I’m not going to stop.



“I’m getting up, you *,” I finally holler from the bed.

The room is a f*cking disaster zone, filled with the lingering scent of stale *. Last night was absolutely wild and completely fulfilling. Those girls had a lot to give. They rode, blew, and f*cked each other. Definitely a night for the record books, but I do know even though I laid flat on my back most of the time, it was all too soon for my healing body. I’m pretty sure when the one blonde sat on my face, it pulled a few stitches. This sexual train should last me a few good weeks, but I really want to f*ck Jazzy. Just a glimpse of her makes me hard.

“Are you moving?” Lynlee pounds on my door.

“Fuck, I’m up. Give me fifteen.”

“I’m turning the timer on.” Her fist continues to pound as she keeps talking. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

Bless her obnoxious little heart. I know she’s trying to keep me moving and motivated to heal, but is one morning all to myself too much to ask? There’s only been one person in my life who’d give up anything for me, and I f*cking blew it. Too worried about the game and winning, I lost her. It makes me wonder when Lincoln and especially Lynlee will finally throw in the towel on me like everyone else has. I know my * attitude doesn’t help, but it’s truly my only defense. No one wants to see the wrecked, vulnerable Levi.

“Levi, it’s been sixteen freakin’ minutes. Get down here.”

I was able to barely take a shower. Not much was washed, but the steam from the hot water felt great. And it doesn’t take much to throw on some gym pants and an Under Armour shirt.

“I’m walking down the f*cking steps,” I holler back.

Just as I pictured, Lynlee is sitting on the countertop with a huge smile plastered on her face. “How are you feeling, Levi?”

“Like I’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”

“Ewwww.” Lynlee covers her ears. “You’re so gross.”

“Well, I’m telling the truth.”

Lynlee hops off the countertop and makes her way to me, wrapping me up in a hug and placing a kiss on my cheek. “Others may think you’re an ass, dickhead, cocky bastard, arrogant f*cker, but I know better.” Lynlee pulls back, making eye contact. “I know the loveable Levi. Although he is rare and makes very few appearances.”

“Jesus, really, Lynlee? Don’t hold back on what people think of me.”

“Hey, I left out prick, goat f*cker, and…” She shrugs with each word.

“Enough. Coffee and bacon.”

“Dumbass, it’s lunch time. I’ll get you coffee, but I’m making you go shopping with me.”

“Uh, I’ll take the coffee, but no on shopping. I’ll pass this time.”

“Uh, no, you will not. I’ve made contact with your PT, and you need to be getting out and walking a bit before she comes next week.”

Lynlee hands me my coffee with a little wink and a rotten-ass smile. She knows she’s won this battle, so I decide to just growl back at her. The slamming of the back door draws our attention up to Jazzy.

“Oh, f*ck no,” she blurts out. “I’m not going out shopping if we have to take dickweed here with us.”

“What’s with all the f*cking nicknames?” I ask.

Ignoring the fact I just spoke to her, Jazzy carries on. “I’m serious, Lynlee. I’d rather go to church than spend an afternoon with Captain Asshat.”

“Captain Asshat,” I repeat. “You two bitter much? I’m not that bad of a guy.”

Lynlee is the first to speak. “Hey, I was just calling you by the names I’ve picked up from others.”