“Honestly, I expected more of you,” Jessica hisses, spewing more judgment at me. “You’re an adult. You should behave like a gentleman.”
“And your sister is a grown woman who said no and left here unspanked,” I say calmly, adding with a fake-ass smile, “So feel free to take her box and go.”
I wanted to say get the fuck out, but I didn’t. See? I am a gentleman.
Jessica grinds the spikes of her sling-back heels into my hardwood floor and glares at me, waggling a long black nail. “You should be ashamed.”
“Britt made that quite clear,” I say drily. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. It’s probably Drew, docking points for me being late. I deserve that.
“You’re thirty-six,” Jessica spews. “Thirty-six-year-old men don’t ask to spank their girlfriends.”
I could beg to differ. I could also point out all the shitty things Brittany said to me while we were together, but instead, I grab the box and thrust it at her sister, hustling her toward the door. “Thanks for coming by. Here’s the last of Brittany’s things. Her poodle mug, her comfort-food cookbook, and her favorite spatula,” I say.
“Good. I’m going to cook with her tonight to make her feel better.” She snatches the box. “She’s still devastated by your outrageous request.”
Jessica takes the box, then gasps, dropping it like it’s on fire. “Ew! So gross.”
“What?” I ask, eager to deal with her issue so I can get on with my evening.
With her mouth gaping, she points like the box is infected with…a spider? A snake?
I cross a few feet to the open box, then groan, annoyed when I see the issue.
A pair of silver gleaming handcuffs.
Jessica plucks the handcuffs out of the box with two disgusted fingers. “Brittany will not want these. You’re just embarrassing yourself!”
Embarrassed is right, but not for the reasons Jessica thinks.
Embarrassed because I’d bought these to give Brittany for her birthday coming up. I even got a pink bow to tie around them. I’d been gearing up, too, to finally tell her why I wanted to play around with handcuffs. What I hoped it could do for us. How it might even help our relationship.
So, yeah, Jessica’s tirade feels so fucking great right now.
“The cuffs can stay then,” I say evenly. I don’t want to let on that she’s hitting below the belt. Taking the cuffs, I drop them on the entryway table.
Jessica raises an eyebrow all the way to Mars. “You’re keeping them? For what? The freak of your dreams?”
That’s enough. I march ahead of her and swing open the door, then gesture to the hall. Somehow, I swallow down a leave right fucking now.
“Goodbye,” I hiss.
She lifts a haughty chin. “Handcuffs,” she mutters.
I bet someone will love them, I want to shout.
But I don’t.
When she’s gone, I slam the door shut. Once I hear the elevator whisk her away, I leave too. As I hit the button to call the next one, my next-door neighbor leaves her home. “Hold the elevator, handsome,” the blue-haired lady calls out as she shuts her door.
“Anything for you, Myrtle,” I say with a grin, then comply once the elevator arrives, hitting the hold button.
When she joins me a few seconds later, Myrtle tuts, shaking her head. “You’re better off without the ex. She was nothing but trouble.”
Thanks again, Brittany, for broadcasting my kink to the whole building.
“Thanks,” I say. “It’s good to be single again.”
When we reach the lobby, Myrtle pats my arm. “And there’s nothing wrong with a spanking. That’s what I usually order on Whipper. In fact, I’m off to see a playmate right now.”
Whoa. She uses that app? “Um, have fun,” I say in a strangled voice.
She winks. “I always do.”
I wish the last several months of my life had been fun, but I wasted them on someone who didn’t even get me.
I swear I will never date a good girl again.
The guys are meeting up at my favorite haunt in Venice Beach, a local dive bar called The Happiest Hours right off the main drag, for my Free At Last poker party.
Drew and Axel—one’s my quarterback, the other’s his cousin—are at the table, and my buddy Milo is in town with his girlfriend, so he’s here too. Drew said we need to celebrate my being single again. Far be it for me to turn down a chance to take their money.
Besides, “free at last” is right. Several months with Brittany felt like a lifetime. I frown at the cards in my hand. Does that make me forty-six? Ouch. I’ll definitely be out of the NFL then. Don’t want to go there any sooner than I have to.
Axel shoves a ten dollar chip into the pile on the felt and offers an opinion for free. “I’m just going to be blunt. I never trusted Brittany anyway.”
I look up from my cards, surprised. “Really? Why not? Did you catch her, I dunno, scrolling through Tinder some night while we were all out?”
Across the table, Axel stares at me and scoffs, “Seriously?”
Drew snorts. “Seconded. Get the fuck out, Gabe.”
Milo gazes soberly over the top of his black glasses. “Dude, we would have told you if she’d done that. Keeping that kind of thing to yourself is grounds for expulsion from the dude club.”
“True words,” Axel confirms. “A lifetime ban.”
“Good to know,” I say, but I’m much more interested in what my buddy saw in my ex. We had a good vibe at first, which is why I was able to look past our sexual incompatibility. We had fun together, going to basketball games in the off-season. She seemed like the perfect sports girlfriend, and I did enjoy the hell out of trash-talking other teams from the stands with her.
Everything seemed good.
Until she started asking me questions about other women. Like, about the barista at the coffee shop we went to. She keeps looking at you, Gabe, she’d say. Did you lead her on the last time you were here? Um, no. Then, when we were out one night at a bar, my ex asked point blank if I was sleeping with the bartender who’d just batted her lashes at me.
The answer was hell fucking no.
“All right,” I say to Axel. “What red flag did I miss?”
He deals me a hard, stern look—sort of his regular look but kicked up a notch. “When we all went to the Jane Black concert, she said irregardless. ‘Irregardless of what you heard, Jane has a new song she’s debuting tonight.’ And—news flash—irregardless is not a word.”
Drew cracks up, smacking the edge of the table. “Called it. I knew the irregardless would come back around and grind Axel’s gears,” he says, then wiggles his fingers toward Milo. “Pay up.”
Milo sighs, aggrieved, then forks over a ten dollar chip. Drew uses it to add to the pot on the table.
I laugh, a little incredulous. “You assholes bet on whether Axel would mention that my ex used a word that didn’t exist?”
Drew shrugs like yeah, so, then nods toward my playing cards. “What have you got? You in?”
Hell yes. I slide in a chip, then slap down the cards. “Three jacks. Which means…” I scoop the pile of chips my way. “I win. I’m free of my ex, and I’m beating your sorry asses. It’s like a double victory.”