“Don’t think you’re bailing on our night of mandatory fun,” Gideon said before glancing across the shower room to where Seth was stationed. “Especially because Blondie is required to be there.” I groaned. I’d rather have my testicles run through a low-speed paper shredder than hang out with Seth Motherfucking McBride for a few hours. On the field was bad enough. The kid’s head was so far up his own ass that he should’ve been walking like a human pretzel. I’d take the fine from the league if it meant I got to sock him in the face.
