Page 110 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
I lift an eyebrow. “Really? My girlfriend needs moral support?”
“We wouldn’t want her to be the only woman,” Wyatt says. “I’m just looking out for her.”
“Sure you are,” I say as I grab my phone.
Linc
Would you by any chance want to come out with me and the guys when we get back?
Ainsley Mae
As long as I don’t have to sing karaoke, I’m in.
Cross my heart. Oh, and Wyatt wants you to call Mia. For your moral support. Nothing about him wanting to see her.
Ha! I knew those two had something going on. Unfortunately, though, she’s working. I’ll text her to see if she can meet us when she gets off.
Sounds good. Meet me at the facility in about forty-five minutes? I’ll send a ride share for you so you don’t have to deal with your car all night.
You’re the best.
Nah. Just one less thing for us to worry about when I’m going to want to Irish goodbye from the bar because I have had certain thoughts on my mind since last night.
Same. Oh. And I have a few more ideas. I made a list.
You’re killing me, woman.
See you soon
“Damn, dude, you’re blinding me with that smile,” Maddox says from across the aisle of the team plane.
“Our boy is in love,” Wyatt says. “But it looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I know she’s too good for me. And I probably don’t deserve her, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“As you shouldn’t,” Maddox says. “Come to think about it, between the game today, Ainsley, and the news of the week, all things are looking up, Kincaid, if I do say so myself.”
He’s not wrong. It has been an overall good week. Highlighted by the news that the Fury traded Brad Rockwell.
Like we all knew was coming, he was finally cleared from injury. I knew it was coming, but it still gave me anxiety knowing that Coach McAvoy would have to make a decision of who was starting and how reps were going to be divided. I swear it was minutes after we got the news that he was cleared that he was also packing his bags and heading to Milwaukee.
A team that happens to be our next opponent after the bye week.
Kincaid versus Rockwell. Just like it was back in college. A battle of two standout tight ends.
One I’m not about to lose.
“Okay, between you and me,” Maddox says as he leans in from across the aisle. “How much did you celebrate when you got home that night? You threw a party, didn’t you? You and Ainsley popping bottles and shit?”
“I wouldn’t say a party,” I say with a smile. “Okay, fine. There was a party and Ainsley got us a cake because, according to her, when there’s an excuse to eat cake, you eat the cake.”
“I like her,” Maddox says. “Did she bake it? Scratch or box? What kind of frosting did she use?”
Wyatt and I look over to our friend with very, and I mean very, confused looks. “Why are you asking me baking details? For one, she bought it. Some bakery we found on the West End. And two, even if she would’ve, how the fuck would I know?”
“There’s a new bakery?”
This man is the best cornerback in the league, with the attention span of a gnat. “Do you want me to get the address from Ainsley? Also, do you have a secret baking hobby that we don’t know about?”
