“I followed your advice.”
Knova nearly spits out a mouthful of her coffee martini.
“What advice?” Marley asks. The other women lean in to hear what I have to say.
“Knova told me that pregame blowjobs are the key to success.” I lift one shoulder. “Seems like she was right.”
“Um, pass.” Marley arches an eyebrow. “Definitely not adding that to my services list.”
“Don’t worry.” Sofia takes a delicate sip of her Sex on the Beach. “I’ve got it covered.”
“I bet you do.” Violet wiggles her eyebrows. “But, for the sake of science, I must know: how does this work for away games?”
“Phone sex,” I say, matter-of-factly. “Here’s my theory: actual sex requires a lot of physical effort—”
“If you’re doing it right,” Knova agrees, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“But blowjobs don’t require a lot of effort on the guy’s part. Mutual masturbation is similar and will do in a pinch.”
Dot’s cheeks and ears have turned bright pink, but I note that she doesn’t shy away from the conversation.
Violet whistles. “Girl, I don’t know if you’re just in the honeymoon phase, or if you’re on to something.”
“Hear me out.” I hold up a hand, ticking my points off on my fingers. “Sex is known to release chemicals in the brain. Dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins can create a sense of euphoria and reduce anxiety. Gamma-aminobutyric acid and endocannabinoids encourage relaxation and improve focus. And vasopressin encourages emotional bonding, and I can’t prove this for sure, but I think it helps him be more in sync with his teammates? More in tune with their cues? But don’t quote me on that.”
“Damn.” Violet’s eyes drift up to the ceiling as she considers this. “I never thought about that.”
Dot takes a sip of her water. “I, um.” She clears her throat. “I bought these vibrating panties for when Camden’s away? And if he wins the game, I’ll wear them that night during our phone call so that he can, you know, control them. As a treat.”
Every jaw at the table drops, including mine. And here I thought we were making her uncomfortable. In fact, we should be taking notes.
“Holy shit, y’all are geniuses.” Knova pulls out her phone.
Marley shakes her head. “Every person sitting at this table is a sex pest.”
“You’re sitting at this table,” I point out.
“Oh, most definitely.” She winks as she takes a sip of her White Russian. “But I’m not trying to disguise my debauchery as science. And no, I will not be taking questions.”
We’ve missed a bit of the game, but a scream from the collective throats of the crowd around us makes everyone turn back to the TVs. I’m the only one who doesn’t look up. I’m too busy opening my notes app and typing out a reminder to look up remote-controlled sex toys later.
I blush, but it’s not the old shame. It’s warmer, lighter—like I’m finally a woman who gets to want things and say them out loud.
Who gets to be part of a circle of supportive women who do the same.
While I’m on my phone, I open the feed for the baby-monitor camera to see what Kepler’s up to. For some reason, it’s disconnected. I hope he didn’t nibble the wire again. I try to refresh, to no avail. Then again, my connection isn’t good here.
Everyone’s using the Puck Drop Wi-Fi, and the service is lagging, even when I try to check my emails. I tuck my phone away and focus on the game.
Twenty minutes later, when the Venom wins, Knova orders a round of tequila shots. Everyone except Dot clinks glasses andthrows them back, then licks salt off our hands. I’m not familiar with this pairing, since I’ve never had people to hang out with or teach me this kind of thing. Even in grad school, people kept their distance.
“You know what?” Knova points at me with one finger, still holding her empty shot glass. “We should hang out more.”
“We… should?” I glance at Violet to see if Knova’s messing with me, but she just smiles and nods.
“We should. I know it can be a little awkward, since we all grew up together.” She gestures around the table. “And I don’t think you’ve met Viv, that’s Coach Metcalfe’s wife and Viktor’s sister. She doesn’t come out as much, between work and her kid, but she hosts events for us at her house sometimes. I like to think we’re a pretty fun group.”
“Oh.” I blink at her. “You mean couples’ events?” This makes sense if they’re inviting Tristan, who’s their real friend, but does that mean that Marley doesn’t go?
