“If you’re late tomorrow, I’ll make sure to cut your miserable asses off and hang them over my fireplace!”
“God forbid,” I tell the boys in a husky whisper because of my labored breathing. “I like my ass a lot.”
“What ass?” Steve smiles mockingly.
“Shut up, asshole,” I hit his head. “You know you love it.”
“What’s the point of saying no if you know I do?” He shrugs.
“All I can see is i****t, with capital letters,” Nate shakes his head as we walk exhausted into the dressing room.
“I don’t understand,” Sam takes off the pads on his uniform the same time we do, putting them in his canvas bag.
“Ignore him, Sam,” I pat him on his rock-hard back. “Nate is just jealous.”
“Ha! You wish,” Nate snorts.
“You know you don’t have to be, peach heart,” Steve circles his hips and pinches his n***
