Sasha has always tried to play it safe, to keep her life as simple and risk-free as possible. Things change, however, when she garners the interest of a handsome, charming, younger man from a completely different world than hers. As she starts to qu...
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"Man, this girl of yours must be somethin' else."
Joe rolled his eyes, less surprised by the comment than the fact that his friend had held his tongue for as long he did. "Don't start, Lopez."
The man known in the wrestling world as Seth Rollins scoffed. "Do not roll your eyes at me, G.I. How else do you want me to react? You're fuckin' cooking!" he pointed out.
"Yeah man," the other man with them, Jon Good asked from the other end of the kitchen island. "You've never cooked for us."
"That's because you're not important." Joe knew he was in for it the moment his Shield brethren showed up at his place and found him slaving away in the kitchen. They'd come over to hang out before Colby went back to his girlfriend and Jon returned home to Las Vegas. But now they were gathered in Joe's kitchen, like some warped version of Knights of the Round Table, probing him about his love life. He huffed and checked his phone again. Sasha wasn't to arrive for another hour but he felt the urge to call her, or at least text her and make sure she got the directions right.
"Dude, your shit didn't ring." Jon sat back in his chair and laughed. "I cannot wait to meet this chick. She better be all that, because she got you acting like a Grade-A pussy," he said, ducking when the big man swung at his head. "Seriously man, who is she? Where'd ya meet her?"
"Her name is Sasha. She works for a friend of mine at his restaurant."
"So you got a thing for the waitress, huh? She hot?"
Colby scrunched up his nose at Jon. "What kinda dumbass question is that? You know G.I. only got the best broads hanging on his arm. The real question is how long have you been seeing her, man? You didn't even tell us about her."
"That's because it only got started a few days ago. I wasn't exactly about to go shouting on the rooftops."
"Okay, fine. But still, you should tell us. We're your boys. Is she tall? Short? Blonde? Brunette? Kids? Criminal record? Details, big man!"
"No record I that know of," Joe chuckled, sliding the marinated chicken into the oven. "What she looks like is for y'all to find out. And yes, she got kids."
Colby snickered. "Hehe. I'd pay good money to see some five-year-old tearing the mighty Roman Reigns a new one for trying to steal his mom."
"He's seventeen."
They both gaped at him. "Wait, how old is this chick?" asked Jon.
"Mid-thirties. She had him young." He put the potato salad in the refrigerator. "She got an eight-year-old too. Mia. Smart kid. You're her favorite, Rollins."
Colby was fascinated by this new information. "Gotta say I'm jealous, bro. I've never had any MILFs."
"Nah, been there done that. And trust me when I say you couldn't handle it, little boy," Jon taunted.
