I may not remember her name when she walks out this door, but I will remember that. Finally, she tugs her dress over her head, red silk draping perfectly over her narrow hips. I wanna play COD with my friend and pass out face-first in my pillow. “Might wanna get dressed, sweetheart.” “Well, I-” “He’s got a girlfriend and I’m not interested.” Annoyance slices my tone and makes my jaw tick. That’s why they’re called puck bunnies they hop from one player to the next. Girls-regular girls and girls who’ve been on the cover of Maxim-don’t give a shit who it is they sleep with so long as he’s on the roster and making millions. “You should probably head out.” Scooping her dress off the floor, I hold it up in front of me so she can’t see the face I’m making. Crossing my arms over my bare chest, I lean against the door frame and watch her snuggle beneath the blankets. “Got an early flight.” Our flight isn’t until noon I simply don’t want her to stay. I got off easy tonight the other guy didn’t. I’ve got a nasty split down the center of my swollen lower lip. “Can’t,” I finally answer, washing my hands while checking myself out in the mirror.

I thought thirteen was supposed to be a lucky number, not a bad omen.

I mean, I got it the first twelve times-she was on the cover of a magazine. Maybe I’d been feeling generous, or maybe I was in the mood, but the truth is I just wanted to shut her up. That’s why we fucked like rabbits for the last thirty minutes without pause, after I got her off in the elevator on the way up here. Don’t get me wrong Lacey’s the kind of girl you don’t think twice about getting into bed with when you just wanna have some fun.

Consider me becka