Dean makes a valid point. While he wasn't a manwhore, Alex did make out with a lot of girls prior to dating me. There are literally hundreds of pictures of him with his tongue in various girls' mouths. Now, I don't know how many of those girls ever got their hands down his pants, or got on their knees and tried to get his massive cannon down the hatch, but I'm imagining there were at least a few. Maybe more than a few.
Combine that revelation with the conversation about a pre-nup, and now I'm feeling less secure. Plus, the rumor about the Darcys being swingers is disconcerting, even if it is just a rumor. I don't want to think about them boning other people while I'm presenting their financial portfolio next week.
I thought swinging was popular in the sixties and seventies, when everyone was doing coke and didn't understand the ramifications of banging all sorts of people. I shudder at the idea of Alex putting his hands, or any other part of his body, on Darcy's wife.
Her name is Bunny. How's that for irony? She also has big boobs. Bigger than mine. Although, I think hers might be the paid-for variety. Not that it matters much. Boobs are boobs. If Alex can grab them and put his dick between them, he's a happy man. What if he wants to slide his dick between her boobs? What if she wants to fondle mine? What if Mitch wants to have sex with me, and Alex wants to watch? Why has my life suddenly become a cheesy porno?
I try to focus on work, but I'm distracted by porntastic scenarios involving Alex and Bunny. I need answers. The internet will have some, but those aren't necessarily reliable, as I've learned over time.
Buck is a good option. I pick up my work phone under the guise of doing my actual job and punch in his number. He answers on the third ring.
"Hey, Vi. How's it going?"
"Okay. Fine. Good. You?"
He goes into immediate brother-protection mode. "What's wrong?"
"Why would you think something's wrong?"
"Seriously?"
"No, really, what tipped you off?"
"You sound like a prepubescent boy."
"I have a throat thing."
"No, you don't."
"Okay. No, I don't." I need to get better at lying. I wonder if there are classes for that kind of thing.
"So what's wrong? You and Waters get into it or something? You want me to break his nose again?"
"No. Please don't do that. He doesn't snore yet, and if you break his pretty face, that might change, and I like sleeping beside his fuckhot body. Especially when he's naked, and I'm naked, and there's nothing but warm skin." I inhale one of those deep breaths and release it so it makes the Darth Vader whooshing sound when I exhale into the receiver.
"Thanks for sharing all of that. Sunny tells me I'm like a cuddly warm blanket when we sleep naked." Buck returns the overshare.
"That's because you are a blanket. A big yeti blanket."
"Ah, there we go. Whatever's wrong can't be that bad. So what's the problem?"
"Are Mitch Darcy and his wife swingers?"
Buck coughs, like maybe I've made him choke on something. "Where'd you hear that?"
"It doesn't matter where I heard it. Is it true?"
"Shit. I don't know, Vi. There are rumors, but then there are always rumors, ya know? Why're you asking? Does Waters want you to go on a double date with them or something? I'll shove my fist up his dick hole."
I make a disgusted sound. "No, Buck, Alex doesn't want to go on a double date with them. And please don't put images of your fist near Alex's dick in my head. That's just awful. I'm supposed to present a proposal for the Darcys' account next week, and Dean told me they're swingers."
"Who's Dean?"
"Another guy who works here."
"Oh." Buck's silent for a few seconds. "So what does them being swingers have to do with you managing their account?"
"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I mean, I wondered if maybe they want me to manage their account because they have a secret agenda to get me and Alex to partner-swap or something."
"Yeah, I don't know much about swinging, 'cause I want to be the only one eating Sunny's cookie, but I don't think that's how that whole deal works. If Darcy's into screwing other people's women and his wife wants to ride other guys' dicks, they're not gonna go after his teammates and their partners. That seems like a super-bad idea."
I nod, even though he can't see me. He makes a good point. "Kind of like when you got caught with your coach's niece in the public bathroom?"
"Thanks for bringing that up."
"Sorry. You know I'm not getting on your case; I'm just making a comparison."
"I don't really think screwing around with a chick in a bathroom and wife-swapping are the same thing."
"Right. Lance boning the trainer in the locker room seems like a better comparison."
"Yeah. I guess."
"How's he doing, anyway?" I ask. Now I'm making small talk. Also, I'm still following Tash on Instagram, and she keeps posting depressing inspirational sayings about the mistakes people make that they can't take back, and letting things go, so I might be doing a little fishing.
I hear beeping in the background on Buck's end. "He's his usual self. Well, not quite, but he's okay. Why're you asking about Lance?"
"I don't know. No reason."
"Sunny told me Tash has been messaging her lately, asking about him, so if you want to know what's going on between those two, I don't have an answer. She fucked him around, and he's not over it. That's all I know."
"It doesn't seem like she's over it, either."
"Yeah, well, she's the one who screwed him over, apparently, and Lance is pretty good at holding grudges, so I can't see him jumping back into that, but you never can tell."
"Yeah. Right. Relationships are so complicated."
"Only because we make them that way." He makes a slurping sound. "You need to talk to me about anything else?"
Sometimes Buck is surprisingly deep.
"Not right now."
"Okay. Well, I'm gonna stuff my face with this leftover stew thing Sunny made and then go pick up Balls so we can hit the arena and get ready for the game."
And sometimes he's just Buck.
"Oh, wait. I have one more question."
"Shoot."
"Do you think Alex will ask for a pre-nup before we get married?"
Buck is silent for a few seconds. "I don't know. Maybe? I mean, the guy's worth more than forty million, and he's still got three years left on his contract with Chicago. So that's another twenty-four coming his way, plus endorsements. I guess it's possible, maybe even probable?"
Buck knows a lot about Alex's salary; I suppose it is common knowledge. "Oh."
"It wouldn't be personal if he did, Vi. He has to protect himself even if you two do end up together forever."
"Right."
"Did he bring it up or something?"
"No. Dean mentioned it."
"This is the same guy who told you Darcy was a swinger?"
"Yeah." I pull up images of Darcy and his wife from the internet. She really is gorgeous-curvy, busty, leggy. I bet she lets him put it in her ass. Whore.
"This guy sounds like a shit-disturber. You need me to come down there and rip him a new one?"
"That's a sweet offer, but you don't need to tune up my coworkers. I can handle myself."
"I'm almost positive the Darcy stuff is bull, but Alex knows him better than me since they've played together longer. You could ask him." More slurping follows.
"Yeah. Okay. I should get back to work. I'll see you tonight after the game."
"All right, Vi. Try not to worry about the pre-nup stuff, or Darcy."
"Okay."
I try to focus on work after I hang up, but I have the attention span of a toddler on a sugar high. And I'm emotional. I end up hiding in the bathroom so I can silent-cry for a few minutes. I have a horrible feeling, and I don't know what to attribute it to.
The game tonight will be a welcome break from all the other stuff. It's been weeks since I've seen Alex play live. I'm hoping we can have hot, aggressive, post-game sexy times and tomorrow I can be appropriately exhausted for all the right reasons. Not because I can't stop worrying.
5
No Siren Loud Enough
VIOLET
I call Alex around five. The game doesn't start for a few hours, but I won't get to see him until it's over, and he'll turn off his phone by six so he can get into play mode.
He answers the call on the first ring. "Hey, you gonna be home early so I can see you before I leave for the arena?"
"I haven't left yet, so I don't think I'll make it before you have to go." I glance at the pile of papers on my desk and the endless list of things I need to finish. Yeah, there's no way I'll make it home, so the "think" part is just to ease the blow of disappointment. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.