Page 59 of Forgotten Comeback
“The suspense isn’t going to kill you.” She glances down at my crotch and back up with laughter in her eyes. “Neither will blue balls. Actions speak louder than words, remember?” She pats my cheek.
“Blue balls speak pretty damn loud,” I grumble.
Taylor smiles as she removes my left glove, and then my right. Shoving them at my chest, she turns around and walks off.
I stand rooted in place, drooling after her plump ass.
It’s sobering to realize that not only am I a simp, I’m the chapter president of the Simping for Taylor Club.
Taylor
Gavin isn’t the only one acting ridiculous. I can’t stop grinning as I strip out of my sweaty clothes, grabbing my shower bag and a towel.
The door opens, and the fitness models enter the locker room. I practically dive into the shower.
“Can you believe they asked that woman to be the ring girl?”
“Who? The redhead Gavin was talking to?”
“Yes, the chubby ginger,” a woman says with a huff. “I was too hungover for work, but damn. The options must have been shit if that’s who they chose.”
Mean girl laughter echoes through the locker room, and I wait until I’m sure they’re gone before turning on the water. My mind’s racing, and I take a deep breath, counting to three slowly before releasing it.
Not every moment of discomfort is a spiral.
It’s okay if I’ve gained some weight; it’ll even out once my body adjusts to the new dosage.
If my body doesn’t, I can deal with that too.
Who cares what those bitches think?
After my mental pep talk and a shower, I change into my street clothes before I track down Gavin. He’s in the ring training a guy I don’t know.
“Sorry to interrupt. Gavin, could I talk to you for just a sec?” I call.
“Sure thing.” He says something to his client before ducking under the ropes and jumping down to the floor.
“I want to be the exclusive ring girl from hereon out,” I tell him quietly. “Who do I need to talk to?”
He grins. “I’ll take care of it.”
I grab his shirt and kiss the shit out of him before strutting past the mean girls, whose mouths are collectively hanging open.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Gavin
My foot taps the boardwalk impatiently as I check my phone. Sal’s fifteen minutes late. I consider the possibility that I’ve been stood up, but he rounds the corner, his gait unhurried, like he’s taking a leisurely stroll down the boardwalk.
“Gavin.” He greets me without apology, and I bite my tongue. He’s the only in we have right now with the Parisi family, and I don’t want to burn this bridge.
“Whatcha got for me?” I hand Sal an envelope, and he counts through the cash before pocketing it.
“The family’s pretty tight-lipped about what’s going on with the John Davis situation. After us lowly soldiers watched hours of the security footage from Ace’s Wild, our fucking eyeballs were bleeding,” he bitches.
“How did the family get that footage?”
