Page 18 of Make Me Laugh

Joey doesn’t know this about me, but I’m wired like every other athlete, past or present, and there are very few things I love more than a challenge.

“Game on, Joey baby.” I wink at her, taking the last sip of my drink.

“There you are!” Frankie interrupts, tumbling in beside Joey and sprawling out across her lap.

I’m suddenly jealous of a tiny redhead with an Energizer Bunny’s amount of energy.

Joey uncrosses her legs and swats her sweaty best friend away. “Get your hot ass off me. I’m finally cooling down.”

Enzo struts in, as quiet and calm as ever. He leans against the wall casually. “I’m going to make sure Kell finds his way back to the hotel.” And what he means by that is, have a good night, don’t get arrested, and I’ll make sure our drunk pal gets back to the hotel alive.

I pop my fist against his as the bartenders yell over the crowd for Last Call.

The night is ending, but I can’t let it. Not for me.

Not for Joey.

Not yet.

“Want me to request a ride?” I hear Joey ask Frankie.

My night crumbles around me. I just started to crack into her shell.

“Actually,” Frankie draws, sitting up. Her face scrunches nervously. “Sam’s coming to get m⁠—”

“Frankie!” Joey lobs a balled-up napkin at her.

“Listen, you should be proud of me.” She leans in, but because she’s pretty drunk, she still speaks loudly enough for me and Enzo to hear. “I’m making a good girl choice tonight. I’m going home and going to sleep.” She pulls away. “We know Sam’s not gonna touch me if I’m sticky with sweat.” She rolls her eyes, and I almost do too—because what do you mean a man won’t touch his hot girlfriend when she’s sweaty?

Red flag.

“He’s just happy this makes him feel like he won this round.” Frankie pops up. “You go make bad girl choices. Sleep with the young, hot comedian you’ll never see again. I’d like my winnings in ones, please.”

“Jesus Christ, Frank! We didn’t even shake on it.” Joey stands to follow, her face turning a rosy shade of pink visible even against the club’s neon glow.

Shake on it? What did they bet on?

My mind spins from that to the image of Joey naked, my hand on her throat as she comes around my cock. In my daydream, she’s got perky pierced nipples and tattoos cascading down her torso. She shakes when she comes, and the way I imagine her moaning my name…

Fuck, West, stop it. I shift in my seat, willing my body to behave like a grown man and not a befuddled teen.

Frankie is gone before Joey has a chance to sneak around the awkward curve in the booth and go after her.

Enzo laughs, but me? I stare at how pretty Joey looks when she’s embarrassed. I imagine the warmth radiating off her cheeks if I reached out and touched her soft skin. Then that leads to the images I was having before, and that’s extremely dangerous territory…

“I’ll make sure she gets in the right car. What does Sam drive?” Enzo asks, reminding me to stop staring at this woman like she’s the eighth Wonder of The World.

Joey hesitates, studying Enzo through the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re the color of a light moss under sunlight. Her face softens as she finally decides to trust Enzo and describes the color of Sam’s Honda Accord.

Enzo nods his goodbye, reminding me with a look to have fun, but not to do anything stupid.

I’ve never made that promise and don’t intend to start now.

When we’re alone, Joey looks at me out of the corner of her eyes. She doesn’t need to stare long to see my goofy-ass smile—the one that says I’ve won.

She might not want to want to, but she wants to fuck me.

Joey plops down and lets out an exasperated sigh.