Chapter 142 Chapter 142 Warm Up
I look over at my cousin. He’s slumped in a foldout chair, his face buried in his hands, a massive Gatorade bottle sitting by his feet like it’s his lifeline. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Stanislav this hungover. Alek is next to him, somehow functional, talking to Sergey like nothing happened last night.
I’m stretched out on the grass with my girls, the ground cold and a little damp beneath us. I’m wearing my FC Barcelona jersey, number 8 on my back—Stoichkov. My favorite player. He’s been retired forever, but when I was a kid, a really small kid, he was everything to me. Black shorts, tights underneath, cleats, shin guards, dark blue socks pulled high. Tish, Gemma, and Erika are all borrowing my extra gear. The fact that we all wear the same shoe size still blows my mind.
I have my headphones in, something low and steady playing, trying to calm the noise in my head. Last night is still sitting heavy in my chest. It was fun… yeah. More than fun. But something about it still feels off. Wrong. I don’t know how I did this so easily before—with James, with others. Maybe Nick changed something in me.
Gemma knocks my headphones off, snapping me back. I follow her gaze and see the Pavlovs pulling up in multiple cars. The two knuckleheads are with them, of course. Vladimira, Yulia, another girl I don’t recognize, and Ivan’s best friend Miroslav—who I still can’t stand.
“So… how was last night?” Gemma asks, way too casually.
How was it? Explosive. Exactly what my body needed. But everything else? Mike himself? I don’t see anything there. I make a dramatic explosion motion with my hands and fall back into the grass laughing. The girls shove me lightly, one after the other, as I keep laughing.
I push myself up and start jogging slowly to warm up, watching the Pavlovs strip out of their sweats. All of them in different soccer jerseys. My eyes land on Ivan and Dimitri—Barcelona jerseys. Of course. I grumble under my breath. They’re all too fucking attractive. Even Illia Jr., Jax, Sal, Can—men well into their forties, and still… distracting as hell.
“We want details!” Yesenia yells after me.
I shrug, keeping my pace, as Vladimira, Yulia, and the other girl fall in step beside me. They’re dressed just like us—jerseys, cleats, shin guards. I glance at Vladimira again. Maybe she does know how to use those legs for more than wrapping them around the two men I can’t seem to get out of my head.
Mia whistles and motions for the rest of the girls to join. Soon we’re all jogging together.
“Come on,” Mia laughs. “You always share. How big?”
“It’s been a year without your stories,” Tiana adds dramatically.
“You don’t need to live through me anymore, right?” I slow and glance at her. “Because if I need to have a talk with my cousin…”
Tiana blushes instantly, laughing. “Oh no. No complaints. None. He’s… amazing.”
We all burst out laughing, but it fades quicker for me than it should.
“I stopped by his grave this morning,” I say, and just like that, the air shifts. My chest tightens, my energy draining out of me as fast as the words leave my mouth.
“Don’t do that,” Tish says immediately, pulling me into a hug as a tear slips free. “Don’t go there. We just got you back.”
I sniff, forcing a laugh. “Tish, Vladimira needs your class.”
Vladimira stiffens for a second, then laughs, loud and sharp. “God damn it, I had a feeling you knew. That old motherfucker.”
I lean in and whisper the information to my girls, and they all start laughing.
“I’ll take the class,” Vladimira says, shaking her head. “Just to do it once, blow his fucking mind, and drop him.”
Yulia hugs her, still laughing. “This is Petia,” she adds, gesturing to the brunette with them.
Petia grins. “So how was the rich dick from last night?”
We all laugh again.
“Sex was explosive,” I admit, lowering my voice as we keep jogging. “Like… instantly. Two, three seconds in, and I was already coming. Over and over. I don’t think I’ve ever had that many. The dick was perfect—big in every way—but…” I hesitate, then sigh. “He has a bend.”
“A bend?” Mia raises a brow.
“A big bend,” I correct. “Like… a sex toy.”
They all react at once—laughter, curiosity, shock.
I shrug, trying to keep it light. “I don’t really like him. It felt weird. No attraction. Even with sex that good, it felt empty.”
“But the sex was explosive?” Gemma repeats loudly—loud enough that heads turn.
She did that on purpose.
I roll my eyes but repeat the explosion gesture, bigger this time.
“I feel like we need to chill after this,” Yulia says. “Food, alcohol—lots of it. And we need Elena to rank every dick she’s ever had.”
I drop to my knees laughing. “I can’t with you guys.” I shake my head, catching my breath. “I have something this afternoon.”
“With Mike?” Mia asks.
I shake my head. We all slow to a stop, sitting in the grass, watching the Pavlovs stretch like a bunch of cocky assholes.
“With who?” Yesenia presses.
“Girls’ lunch sounds fun,” Tiana adds.
“I agree.”
“With who?” Gemma repeats, narrowing her eyes.
“Mason,” I say, wincing.
Gemma explodes. Fully. She jumps to her feet, yelling in French, hands flying. I’ve never seen her go off like this. Alek is up in seconds, wrapping his arms around her, calming her down. It’s annoyingly adorable.
“I’m going to tell Dimitri,” she snaps.
“Why? He doesn’t give a shit,” I fire back. “We’re meeting to talk. I need answers. He has something to tell me.” I step closer. “He’s harmless.”
Gemma laughs right in my face.
We both know that’s not true.
He could have killed me.
He is different now, I tell myself. I am different. I believe him, he was remoursful. It was honest, raw. The phone call. That is why he is still alive. I need to know what they did to him.
“Are we already winning?” Jax’s voice cuts in as he drapes an arm over my shoulders. “You guys are fighting.”
“No,” Gemma snaps. “This idiot is going to see Mason Fucking Jones after the game. For what? A chat? A date? Why do you need to talk to him? Did you forget what he did to you?”
“I’m not afraid of Mason,” I say evenly. “We’ll talk. I’ll come home. You guys can come over. We’ll order food, hang out.” I glance at Petia with a small grin. “And we can get piss drunk, talk about dick."
That, at least, earns a few laughs.
But the tension lingers.