“How do you think I’m able to hold my own on the ice?” He lifts his shirt, showing off his six-pack. “This is built on bologna.”
“It’s disgusting,” Silas says, looking grumpier than usual.
“What’s your problem?” Posey calls him out.
“Ollie and I got into a fight this morning, and I’m irritated,” he answers.
“What was the fight about?” OC asks.
Silas stares up at the ceiling for a second. “She wanted to be on top this morning, and I wanted her from behind, so she ended up cutting me off and well . . . yeah.”
The room turns silent, and after a moment, Posey says, “Do you really think we’re going to feel bad for you that you’re a dumbass and wouldn’t let your girl ride you?”
“I wasn’t looking for sympathy.” He gestures toward me. “Focus on Holmes and the sour look on his face.”
The boys turn toward me, and OC asks, “What’s going on? You do look kind of . . . different.”
“Ate something weird,” I answer as I put on my shin guard.
“Liar,” Silas says. And I know that tone. He’s irritated, so he’s going to make sure everyone around him is irritated. “He took donuts to Blakely, and it’s obvious it didn’t go well.”
Yup . . . the motherfucker.
“Whatever happened to fucking privacy?” I ask him.
He circles his finger in the air. “Around here, there is no such thing.”
Clearly.
“Dude, you took her donuts?” Posey leans in. “That’s really nice. Did she not like them? Were they the wrong kind? Fuck, were they cake donuts, not yeast? Always go with the yeast, man. I don’t know one person who will rave about a cake donut over a yeast.”
“He’s right about the yeast,” OC chimes in.
“What about a sourdough?” Silas asks. “An old fashion? Those are good.”
“You would eat that over a classic glazed?” Posey asks before shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “No fucking way.”
“I mean, they’re good,” OC adds, “but I have to agree with Posey. They don’t top a classic glazed.”
“No one ever agrees with Posey,” Silas says.
“Not true.” Posey scrapes a drop of mustard from the corner of his lip. “A lot of people agree with me. I’m the smartest motherfucker on this team. It’s why all of you are with women.”
“If that’s the case, then the donut situation wouldn’t have gone bad. Ever think about that?” Silas asks. “This sorry asshole over here has his tail tucked between his legs because he tried giving a girl donuts, and it didn’t work out. Where were you with that?”
“First of all . . .” Posey holds up one finger. “I can’t be held accountable for when people go rogue. I had no idea he was taking her donuts, and if I did know, I’d have heavily suggested yeast donuts, not cake.”
“They were not cake donuts!” I shout, feeling frustrated with this stupid back and forth.
The guys study me, then OC asks, “Were they yeast?”
“Yes, they were fucking yeast. This has nothing to do with the donuts. She actually liked the donuts.”
“Huh.” Posey scratches his jaw. “I could have sworn it would have been a cake versus yeast issue. Did you say something unsavory to her?”
“What would unsavory be?” OC asks.
“Like . . . let me fuck you from behind despite you wanting to ride me,” Posey replies, glancing over at Silas.
