Excel （16）

"Wow. Amara. I mean, wow," Ryan swooned, as she walked out into the living room wearing an extremely short, tight red dress, cut low enough to reveal some cleavage, as much as her push-up bra could muster for her small chest. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail that draped over her right shoulder, and her lips matched the color of her dress. She had on black heels that were sexy but also padded with memory foam because after all the years she'd spent beating the shit out of her feet, she just couldn't handle the full-on "fuck me shoes" anymore.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." She looked him up and down, appreciating the white dress shirt and incredibly form-fitting black pants that hugged his thick ass and thighs to perfection. His usually messy blonde hair was perfectly styled, and the combination of his deodorant and cologne was a scent she'd have found a way to fuck if it was humanly possible.

They were headed out to Excel, Bridgeport's newest and hottest nightclub, with a few of the guys and some of their significant others. They were looking forward to a night out together since they hung out at home most of the time, but they also decided that it was a prime opportunity to try out their new arrangement.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" she asked him quietly in the backseat of the Uber. It was close enough to the apartment that they could've walked, but it was just too damn Connecticut cold outside. Osi was sitting in the front seat attempting to carry on a conversation with the driver, and she didn't want to air out their business.

"Here, look," he showed her his Instagram on his phone, making sure she didn't think he was hiding anything. "Don't laugh, but this is called a ‘pussy flare,' as horrendous as that sounds."

"I'm sorry. A what now?"

He smirked and snapped a quick selfie of just him, remembering that she'd asked to be kept off his social. "I post a pic, tag it with Excel, and add some text about how we're headed there." He closed the app.

"And then?"

"And then you wait. Girls will view it, and either like it or comment about how they'll be there and want to meet up."

"And this works?"

"Every single time. How do you think I met all the chicks I used to fuck with? This streamlines the process because A, you can see what they look like and pick the ones you want, and B, you know they're down to fuck, so you don't waste 75 bucks on drinks just for them to tell you they're going home to their boring-ass husbands at the end of the night."

She smirked at his detailed description of the positives of the ‘pussy flare.' The kid was ridiculous. Sometimes, he could be the most clueless idiot on Earth, and other times, he could rival Einstein with his infinite wisdom. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but it was one of her favorite things about him. "You never cease to amaze me, Baylor." She shook her head. "How long do you wait?"

"Oh, they're already there." He opened the app, a mere two minutes later, and clicked on his messages. "It's at 103 views and six girls have commented so far. Here." He handed her his phone. "Scroll through and see if you like any of them. I'll work it out."

"So, this is great for girls, but what about guys?"

"That poses a bit more of a challenge, but, uh, you'd be surprised," he said with a shy smile. "Hockey boys have a reputation for being pretty...open-minded."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. I mean, we don't go around advertising it, but in juniors and especially college because we're drunk all the time? Every guy I've ever messed around with was a teammate of mine or an opponent. It happens a lot more than you'd think."

"Why though?"

He shrugged. "Most hockey boys are unapologetic sluts. I don't know why. Probably has something to do with leaving home so young, being naked around other guys all the time. I'm not really sure, to be honest with you."

"Shit. So how far did you go? Like, did you ever…"

"No, never. A couple of guys tried, but I said no. A lot of kissing. So much kissing. Touching, hand jobs, a few BJ's. No, I never gave one."

"I bet you'd be really good at it. I mean, your lips. And that tongue of yours."

"Don't get any ideas."

"So have you…with anyone recently?"

"Nah. Not since college."

"And is there, um, anyone who you'd maybe wanna…"

"Amara? Hayes still isn't happening."

"Damn." She shrugged. "Worth a shot."

Ryan nudged her, pointed to the front seat, and giggled as he overheard Osi arguing with the driver about something. "Oh, everyone say is best show ever, but this is number one bullshit!"

"I like that. ‘Number one bullshit.' I'm definitely adding that into the rotation," she laughed.

"He says that all the time. It's hilarious. He gets pissed on the ice? ‘This is number one bullshit!' So funny. Hey, can I ask you something?" Ryan interrupted Amara's scrolling through the story comments, which were up to 13 now.

"What's up?"

"So, what exactly is it about Hayes that does it for you?"

She exaggerated disgust. "Tyler doesn't do anything for me."

"Hey: we said we were gonna be honest with each other, right?"

"Fine. Honestly? I don't wanna talk to you about this."

"Come on. I need to know why you look at him the way you do. It's not for me. It's for my anxiety. Please?" He feigned puppy eyes.

"Man, you really love talking about him, don't you?" She sighed, fidgeting with her clutch in her lap. "Fine. Since we're being honest: I think it's his confidence. He is so fucking confident, especially for someone his age. He seems like he could really take control of…things. What do you guys call it, BDE? And he's beautiful. Not perfect like you, but beautiful in his own way. He's brutally honest and doesn't sugarcoat anything, which is kinda hot. And…"

"Alright, OK, stop. Sorry I asked." Ryan waved his hands uncomfortably. "Have you done anything with him, Amara? Even before we started dating. Anything at all?"

She shook her head intently. "Absolutely not. Tyler Hayes is a perfect gentleman if you must know," she lamented, thinking about how she'd come on to him the other night at his front door after finding the subreddit post, and how he'd sent her home. "He really is."

He grabbed her hand as the Uber pulled up to the club's entrance. "Hey. Let's just enjoy ourselves tonight. OK? If it works out, we'll deal with it." He raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently and squeezing. "But let's just have fun together. I wanna have a good time with you."

She smiled. "OK."

???

"You get used to it!"

Amara could barely hear herself think over the excruciatingly loud EDM pumping to the point that she could feel it in her bones.

A younger, very attractive blonde woman wearing way too much makeup had taken a seat next to her at the bar, where Amara had gone for a break after dancing nonstop with Ryan for the last hour or so. Memory foam or not, her feet were literally about to die.

"I'm sorry?" she shouted to the woman, taking another sip of her third whiskey on the rocks.

The woman leaned in right up against her ear. She still had to yell, but not as loud. "I see you staring at him, all those girls all over him. You just have to change your mindset." She reached a hand out. "I'm Natasha. Conner Dales's fiancé. Dalesy?"

"Oh. Hi," she shouted, shaking her hand. She thought back to the party at Tyler's apartment, and this wasn't either of the girls Dalesy had brought. It especially wasn't the girl who was sitting on his lap kissing his neck in the living room after blowing Ryan and God knows who else.

"You're Baylor's girlfriend, right? He's super-hot. Girls aren't gonna leave him alone. Literally, the minute you walk away, they'll be all over him."

"Yeah. I've kinda noticed."

"Come with me!" She grabbed Amara's arm and led her across the club, eventually to an outside area illuminated by hanging string lights, fireplaces, and propane heaters, where a bunch of people sat smoking and vaping. They found a couple of chairs near one of the firepits and took a seat. "Ah, that's better! I can actually hear myself think again. Amanda, right?" Natasha pulled out a pen, pulled, and offered it to Amara. "You want? Might help take the edge off."

"No thanks." She held up her whiskey. "I'm good. And it's Amara."

"Amara. That's pretty. So, you guys have a bit of a May-December thing going on, huh? What's he, 20 years younger than you?" She took another pull. "I'm sorry. That sounded bitchy. I didn't mean it like that. You're stunning, seriously. The other guys are jealous as shit. They talk about Baylor's cougar all the time. Especially Seggy, Jamie Segorsky? He'd fuck you in a heartbeat. Don't waste your time though. He's the absolute worst in bed. Great dick, but so selfish."

She smiled awkwardly. "Wow, OK. Yeah, Ry's 18 years younger than me." She made a face as she said it aloud. "And I probably belong in prison."

"Nah. I mean, that's an insane gap, but I guess it works for you guys, huh? Conn's 8 years older than me. Anyway, I noticed you staring at him, surrounded by all those girls. Listen, you'll get used to it."

"I wasn't…I mean, it's…fine." She wasn't gonna tell her that they were fishing for one to take home and share.

"I used to get so jealous when Conn would have chicks all over him, but I learned that you have to focus on the bigger picture." She flashed her gigantic engagement ring, her earrings, her expensive purse, and pointed to her shoes. "These? Cost $3000. When he gets called up to the NHL, the amount of money coming in is going to blow your mind, plus any sponsors he gets. It makes it a lot easier to look the other way if you get my drift." She took another pull; Amara noticed her eyes, though bloodshot, were stone cold. "I know he cheats. Trust me, I'm no saint either. I've run through half that locker room. Actively trying to get my hands on Hayes, but he just won't bite. Rumor has it he's got a gorgeous cock."

Amara's hackles were raised at the mention of his name. "I'm actually pretty close with Tyler myself," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, OK then. So, is it true? Is he hung like they say he is?"

"Wouldn't know. We're just friends."

"Well, that's no fun. Hey, you'll have to put in a good word for me."

"Right."

Natasha continued. "There's a dark side to all of this, a seedy underbelly, if you will, that so many girls can't handle because they go into it with this delusion that it's about love. It's not. Most of these guys have been so used and abused that they aren't even capable of love. It's about financial stability, comfort, convenience. Listen, I didn't sign a prenup. When I decide I've had enough, and I will, I'm set. You have to look away sometimes and remember that you're the one he's going home with. Make sure he gets tested, make sure he doesn't knock anyone up, or if he does, he makes her terminate it, and make friends with some of the other guys on the team. It, uh, helps."

"Uh huh. Thanks for the advice. Listen, I'm gonna go find a bathroom…"

"Hey, ladies. Mind if we join you?" Two younger guys came and sat down in the empty seats next to Natasha.

"Absolutely, gentlemen," she crooned, as Amara watched her deftly remove her engagement ring and sneak it into her purse.

Amara stood up. "I'm actually gonna head in. Nice talking to you," she said, turning and walking back towards the bar. The better looking of the guys got up and followed her.

"Hey. I didn't get your name." He reached out and touched her shoulder, so she pivoted to face him. "I'm Evan."

"Amara," she responded without thinking. "But I was just on my way to find a bathroom."

"Don't go back in. Little known secret, but there are bathrooms out here, just around that corner. Much cleaner and pretty quiet. I can take you over there if you want. The handicap stall in the women's room is my favorite." He whipped out a condom and held it in front of her face. "Wanna check it out with me, maybe let me pull that dress up and have an orgasm between those beautiful legs?"

She laughed, taken aback. "Wow. A man that gets right to the point. I'm good though, thanks."

"Is it because I'm younger? I‘m 28, but I promise I'll make it worth your time."

"Sorry, baby. But 28 is just entirely too young for me. Hey, good luck though!"

"Whatever. Bitch," he mumbled, as he turned to head back towards Natasha.

Amara smirked, heading back inside the club so she could pee and get a status update from her boyfriend. She could feel the whiskey starting to do its thing.

She pushed her way through the crowd on the way out of the bathroom and finally located Ryan standing near the bar, a drink in one hand and the other resting on the shoulder of a beautiful, young blonde who was seated there.

"There you are!" she yelled, approaching him, downing the rest of her whiskey, and slamming the empty on the bar in front of the babe.

"Hey." He immediately moved his hand from the blonde's shoulder and put his arm around his girlfriend.

"I was out back with Dalesy's fiancé. Man, talk about a vile human being. Oh, and some dude asked me to fuck him in the bathroom. He literally waved a condom in front of my face."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "That's lovely. Anyway. So, Kaylie, this is my girlfriend, Amara."

"Nice to meet you!" Amara shook her hand, staring at her huge tits that were barely covered by her bright yellow halter top.

"She's, uh, down, if you wanna get out of here," Ryan told Amara, then leaned into her ear. "You still wanna do this with me? You can say no."

"Nah, I'm good. So, it worked? The pussy flare?"

"Yep. Told you. Like a charm."

Kaylie tapped Ryan's shoulder, and he leaned down. "She's gorgeous. I wanna watch you two together."

"That's not a problem, but you're gonna spend some time on my cock, too," he responded, signaling the bartender. "Hey, can I close out? Mar, wanna get us an Uber? I'm gonna text Osi so he knows we're leaving."