“Sure,” I tell her, and put it on my calendar at the same time I block off the following Friday and Saturday and even Sunday. “Now, if you are done with all the questions, I have to get to work. Have fun tonight,” I say and then smile, and she starts to say goodbye. “Oh, and, Karrie, enjoy the ass play.” She gives me the finger, and I hang up on her.

I open my blog and start my post.

Is a fish considered a pet? Here are my reasons.

Chapter Sixteen

Mark

Sitting down at the table by myself with my plate for lunch, I hear the chattering all around but don’t really pay attention. I grab my phone and check my emails, then shoot off a couple to Tracy about New Orleans and one to my brother.

“I swear to God.” I look up and see the chair in front of me being pulled out, and Matthew sitting down with his own plate. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I can’t wait to go on the road.” I shake my head and take a bite of my chicken. “I’m going to sleep in the middle of the bed like a starfish,” he says, taking a bite of his meal.

“Rough night?” I ask, being polite.

“Yeah, the kids are having nightmares, so they pile into the bed with us. Woke up with the biggest hard-on of my life, and then when I went to reach for my wife, I got my daughter’s head. Do you know how fast it takes a boner to go down?” He looks at me. “A millisecond.”

I laugh at him. “Good to know.” The other chair is pulled out, and I look over to see Evan sitting down now with his plate.

“Hey,” he says, opening his bottle of water. “What are you guys talking about?” he asks, taking a bite of his pasta.

“Matthew is going to sleep like a starfish,” I inform him of the half conversation we just had, and Evan looks at him. For the rest of the meal, I only contribute a couple of comments, and only when it has to do with hockey.

“I can’t wait to get back on the ice again and start playing,” Evan says, leaning back in his chair. “I like to practice, but I’m getting antsy.”

“I’ll remind you of that in January when you’re bitching that you can’t wait to take a vacation,” I point out and then start to get up.

“Buzzkill PM,” Evan says, using my nickname. “Are you giving any interviews this year?”

I laugh. “They don’t want to talk to me. They want the pretty boys.” I wink at him, and Matthew laughs.