Sin Bin (Carolina Comets #4)
: Chapter 18

Smith: Please tell me your night was better than mine.

Emilia: I’m sorry about the loss. That one was brutal.

Smith: Getting shut out is never good, but when it’s a team that’s 30^th in the league? Hurts.

Emilia: If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been at the office since eight AM.

Smith: Are you still there?

Emilia: Yes.

Smith: What the hell for?

Emilia: Tori. She needs me to write up a proposal for a campaign with a local charity, and she needs it by tomorrow. She sprung it on me right before puck drop, so I had to juggle the game and now this.

Smith: Screw that. Leave.

Emilia: I will soon. I just have a few more things to put together and then I’m good.

Smith: Emilia…

Emilia: That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.

Emilia: Unless it’s in bed. *wink*

Smith: I’m being serious.

Emilia: So am I. *double wink*

Smith: Wouldn’t that just be a blink?

Emilia: No! I winked twice!

Smith: You really should go home. Finish it in the morning.

Emilia: I already have stuff to do tomorrow morning.

Smith: I’m sorry. I wish I was there to help.

Emilia: I don’t. Your version of “helping” is to get me naked.

Emilia: Actually, I lied. I do wish you were here.

Smith: That’s what I thought.

Smith: At least text me when you get home.

Emilia: You’re kind of bossy, you know.

Smith: You like it.

Emilia: I do. Possibly a bit too much.

Smith: No such thing as too much.

Smith: Now, go work. Get your shit done and get home. Within the next hour, please.

Emilia: Yes, sir.

Smith: You’re playing with fire, Emilia.

Emilia: What are you going to do? Glare menacingly at your flip phone?

Smith: Flip phone??

Smith: I’m not that old!

Emilia: Whatever you say, gramps.

Smith: I swear, I’m spanking your ass when I get back.

Emilia: Promises, promises.

Emilia: *kissy-face emoji*

Emilia: Don’t hate me, but when you get home, we need more content.

Smith: MORE?

Smith: How many damn videos do we need for this thing?

Emilia: A lot.

Emilia: We post daily, and not everything is for the player profile. Some of it is just for the team.

Smith: No.

Emilia: Please??

Smith: Fine.

Smith: But for a price.

Emilia: *sigh*

Emilia: You want to see my boobs, don’t you?

Smith: Yes.

Emilia: Fine.

Emilia: You’re such a guy, you know that?

Smith: Yep. Well aware.

Smith: What are the videos about?

Emilia: It’s a Q&A series. We have fans submit questions, then we filter through them. It will only be about ten.

Emilia: For the profile, I mean.

Emilia: It’ll be at least five videos for the team.

Smith: FIVE?!?

Emilia:

Smith: I want more than boobs.

Emilia: Fine. I’ll send both tits, then.

Smith: You were only going to send one???

Smith: That’s just mean.

Smith: Tease.

Emilia: Damn right I am!

Emilia: What am I getting out of sending you a tit pic?

Smith: THE VIDEOS!

Emilia: Those are for the team, not me.

Smith: You make a valid point, but I really feel like that’s cheating.

Emilia: Oh, it definitely is.

Emilia: But you’re going to let me cheat anyway.

Smith: I am?

Emilia: Yes. Because I’m cute.

Smith: Hmm.

Smith: Fair.

Smith: You’re kind of sassy today, you know that?

Emilia: I know.

Smith: Well, as long as you’re aware.

Emilia: On a scale of 1-10, how good of a dancer are you?

Smith: 0

Emilia: That’s not a valid answer.

Smith: -1

Emilia: Smith…

Smith: I am not dancing.

Smith: Never.

Smith: Ever.

Smith: Keep fucking dreaming.

Emilia: Not even for the team?

Smith: Not a chance.

Emilia: BOO!

Smith: Boo me all you want. It’s not happening.

Emilia: It will make really good content though…

Smith: I don’t care. Dancing is where I draw the line.

Emilia: Lowell’s dancing.

Smith: What dirt do you have on him?

Emilia: Enough.

Smith: I’m curious but I know you well enough to know that if I want details, I’ll have to make an exchange and I’m still not dancing.

Emilia: Ugh. Fine.

Emilia: *crosses off next ten ideas*

Smith: I’m sure you’ll come up with something else.

Emilia: And here I was, ready to offer up blow jobs in exchange for content.

Smith: …

Smith: What kind of dancing?

Smith: Be honest…

Smith: Does it make me an old man if I order oatmeal for breakfast?

Emilia: Yes.

Smith: You’re supposed to say no.

Emilia: Well, I don’t want to lie to you so…

Emilia: Yes.

Emilia: It’s a total old person food.

Smith: Watch your tone, little girl.

Emilia: It’s text. You can’t hear my tone.

Smith: Trust me, I can.

Emilia: Can you hear this?

Smith: You just rolled your eyes, didn’t you?

Emilia: Possibly. *grins*

Smith: I thought you youngins were supposed to show your elders respect.

Emilia: I don’t think you “respected” me very much the last time I saw you.

Smith: I did and that’s exactly why I did what I did.

Emilia: Okay. That’s fair.

Emilia: Why are you worried about being “old” for ordering oatmeal?

Emilia: Wait. Let me guess. Miller?

Smith: No. That shithead Greer.

Emilia: You don’t like your goalie?

Smith: Of course I like my goalie. But only on the ice.

Smith: He’s a cocky little prick.

Emilia: But also totally saving your asses this year.

Smith: Whose side are you on here?

Emilia: Yours. Totally yours.

Emilia: But…am I lying?

Smith: No.

Emilia: That totally killed you to say, didn’t it?

Smith: Yes.

Emilia: You’ll be fine.

Emilia: I’ll make sure I kiss you back to life when you get home tomorrow.

Smith: Start with my dick, please.

Emilia: We’ll see.

Emilia: *whispers* That’s a lie. I totally will.

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