a picture and then finally bump into Manning on my way to the bar.
“Look at you, Mr. GQ,” Manning, my best friend and captain of the team, jokes as he slaps my shoulder. He’s been calling me that ever since I was on the cover six years ago. “You look dapper.” I shake my head. He’s the only man who stands six feet six and is built like an ox who can use the word dapper.
“We are wearing the same fucking suit.” I point at him, shaking my head. “Let's take a picture together and put it on Instagram so we can do a poll on who wears it better.” I slide my phone out, and he pushes me away.
“I don’t do that shit.” He’s the only one who refuses to take part in social media. However, he’s the first to help out or donate his time. “It’s enough I have to put up with the pictures tonight from the press. I don’t need you adding to it.”
“I’ll take a club soda,” I tell the bartender, “with lime.” Looking over at Manning, who puts his hands in his pockets, I see the vein in his head start to pulse. When I see what he’s looking at, I laugh. His wife is the social butterfly. She is in the middle of everything, schmoozing and flirting. “Whatever, man. You get to take her home tonight.”
Manning looks around before he talks. “Don’t remind me.” He brings his whiskey to his lips. To the outside world, they are a perfect couple, but those who know him, know he’s living in hell. I don’t know when it happened, but she might be the devil. “She threatened to post on Instagram and actually created an account for me.”
“Did you tell Candace? She’d be so pissed if you didn’t become one of her clients,” I say to him. “Don’t look now,” I tell him, seeing Candace and her boyfriend, Ralph, walking toward us.
“Boys,” Ralph says when he gets close enough. He is quieter than some of our other teammates. He’s fierce on the ice, but no one would call him the life of the party.
“You,” Candace says right away, pointing at me. “Are you insane?”
“Me?” I ask her, confused.
“Do you know how many DMs you got because of your Instagram picture?” I look at her as she glares. “My phone has been blowing up. One girl wants to suck your dick for a hundred dollars.”
“What?” I ask her, taking out my phone to check my comments and seeing she’s right. “What is with all these women? Also, only a hundred dollars?” I ask, looking up and seeing Layla walking in. I swear my cock springs to action the minute I catch a glimpse of her bare leg through the slit in her long strapless black dress. Her long brown hair curled and swaying, she stops a waiter and takes a glass of champagne, smiling at him.
“Earth to Miller,” Candace says. “You need to edit that post,” she tells me, and I just hand her the phone.
“Don’t click on my photos,” I warn with a wink, and Ralph pushes my shoulder.
“Is the ring on her finger not enough to tell you that you can’t flirt with her?” He looks over at Manning. “Can you believe this guy?”
“Yes, I can.” Manning nods. “Do you not remember when we all got his dick picture?”
“That was on Snapchat.” I throw my head back and close my eyes, thinking about last year when I sent it by accident. “It was an accident.” They all laugh.
“What is everyone laughing about?” Layla says once she comes closer to us, and I see her holding a glass of champagne.
“The time Miller sent his dick picture to everyone on Snapchat,” Candace says and then looks at me, then back at Layla. “You look amazing, by the way.” I’m about to tell her that she looks gorgeous when I hear someone talking.
“There you are.” I look over to see Manning’s wife coming over to us. She smiles at the guys and literally rolls her eyes when she sees Layla and Candace. “Nico would like a picture of us,” she says, looping her hand through Manning’s arm. “Shall we?” He takes his hands out of his pockets, and she grips his arm. He walks away from us without saying anything.
“Why is she like that?” Layla asks.
“At least she never poured a drink over your head,” Candace says, and Layla laughs.