“What is actually expected of your so-called wife?” I asked Maxwell who was getting dressed for game night.
“You have VIP tickets—so that’s completely up to you. Either you can sit in the VIP box with the rest of the girlfriends and wives or you can sit on the sideline,” He crossed the room in confident strides, stopping in front of me who was leaning up against the side of his locker.
“The sideline sounds like a better option to me,” I noted.
“I thought you would say that,” He pulled a shirt out from his locker. “And that’s why I made you this,” He held up the t-shirt with the number ten printed on the back with the letters quarterback’s queen beneath.
“You really went too far with this one,” I muttered with a smile staring at the print.
“I got to make sure everyone knows my wife,
