Hissy Fit

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “So much better than going to CrossFit with you,” she murmured. “Soooooo much.”

  I chuckled and pulled out, loving the wet sound that it made when we separated.

  Reaching for the towel I’d just used to dry my body off with, I pressed it against her now-leaking core and got up off the bed, glancing worriedly at the time.

  “Shit,” I groaned, walking to the closet. “I’m so late.”

  Her husky laugh behind me had me contemplating hopping back in bed with her and going for round two, but I was already running late as it was, and the coach wasn’t allowed to be late for practice when he was required and paid to be there.

  “Love you, Ez-E,” Raleigh called, getting herself more comfortable in the sprawled position she was already in. “And don’t let that woman hang on you. I hate her.”

  I snorted.

  That’d been her parting shot every morning since I’d proposed to her.

  Out of everything that had happened that day, she was still stuck on the fact that I’d asked her if she wanted to go to Poison Jacks.

  “She won’t,” I promised.

  “That’s what you say every time, and when I walk around the corner, she’s running her hand up and down your arm.”

  That was true. Coach Casper was a toucher when she spoke.

  “I’ll do my best,” I paused with my shirt halfway over my head. “How about that?”

  “I guess that’s good enough.” She rolled and settled onto her side. “Will you turn out the light already? I still have an hour until I have to get up.”

  I chuckled and fished out my tennis shoes, a clean pair of underwear, and my socks out of my dark closet.

  Once I had them all, I took them to the bathroom and closed the door, getting dressed in there.

  Moments later, fully dressed with deodorant on, I flicked off the light and hurried toward the bed.

  I kissed my woman goodbye and started to walk out the door when Raleigh’s words stopped me in my tracks.

  “Coach Casper really does worry me,” she whispered.

  I swiveled on a heel and turned to stare at her through the darkness.

  I was on my way to the practice, and I didn’t really have time to spare. Not when I spent thirty minutes of the forty I usually used to shower and change after my early morning workout making love to my soon-to-be wife.

  “I know,” I murmured. “But I can handle her. Just know that I love you and that you’re the woman I’m going to marry.”

  Raleigh relented. “Yes, Coach.”

  Grinning, I left the house and hurried to my truck, jumping inside and starting it up before I even had the door all the way closed.

  Moments after that, I was backing out of the driveway and hurrying toward the school.

  I was going to be late, so I called Allic and asked him to get started on a few drills without me until I could get there.

  He agreed, and by the time I arrived at the school I was already six minutes late.

  Coach Casper’s car was parked at the front of the lot where the staff was allowed to park, and I had to wonder why she was here this early when she didn’t have practice until the afternoon.

  Giving Raleigh’s parting words a whirl, I contemplated heading straight for the field.

  Knowing my assistant coach was on the ball unlike me, I made a detour to my office to grab a couple of protein bars since I hadn’t had a chance to grab breakfast after my workout today.

  Only, when I got to the hallway that led to my office, a sound alerted me to someone using it, causing me to freeze.

  “Oh, fuck.” I heard a low, breathy moan. “Yes, harder, baby.”

  My brows rose, and my mouth dropped open in surprise.

  Someone was having sex in my office!

  Somebody was using my office as a goddamn bedroom, and I was pissed.

  When I pushed the closed door open moments after inserting my key into the lock, I wasn’t prepared for what I found.

  Nothing could’ve ever prepared me to see Coach Jacklyn Casper and Mackie Tombs fucking on my goddamn desk—both of them completely buck ass naked.

  Mackie was pumping away while Coach Casper got her fill—literally and figuratively—and not paying the least bit of attention to me or the now not-so-empty office.

  I backed away slowly, and stood beside the door, wondering at what I should do.

  My first inclination was to snap a picture to ensure that I was believed, but in the end, I decided to go down the hall to the trainer’s office and pull him in. Only, instead of finding the trainer, I found the school resource officer.

  Flint Stone was in one of the trainer’s rehab chairs reading something out of a file folder.

  He looked up when I entered.

  “Problem, Coach?” he asked, looking concerned.

  “Uhh,” I hesitated. “I need you to witness something.”

  Flint was a good man. He was a thirty-three-year-old vet and had a damn good head on his shoulders. I liked him and respected him a lot, so I knew that he could handle what was about to happen.

  “This isn’t gonna be pretty,” I told him right before I led him to my office, where the fucking had gotten more exuberant.

  I rounded the corner at almost the same instant that Flint did and was unsurprised when his ‘holy fuck’ left his mouth, causing both Mackie and Coach Casper to gasp in surprise.

  “What the fuck?” Flint boomed, using his Marine voice.

  If I wasn’t so goddamn flabbergasted about what was going on in my office, I might’ve asked the same goddamned thing. Sadly, I was not just surprised, but pissed, causing me to momentarily question everything that was about to come out of my mouth.

  “Get dressed,” I ordered Mackie. “Coach Casper…clothes.”

  Then we turned around as I dialed Principal Sherpa’s number.

  Moments after that, I called the cops.

  I was sick to my stomach.

  The two had crossed quite a few moral boundaries.

  And all I could think about the entire time that I was sorting shit out for the next hour was that Raleigh was right…and she was going to freak the fuck out.

  ***

  The moment that our eyes met, I knew that she knew.

  Her eyes were rimmed with darkness, and she looked tired.

  I was sure that she’d been woken up by the gossip mill. If not by another teacher, then by the students.

  The football players had figured out rather quickly what had gone on when a couple of police cruisers had shown up, taking both Mackie and Coach Casper to the police station. From that moment on, the players had let their mouths run like wildfire, spreading the news far and wide.

  The moment she came within a foot of me, I pulled her into my arms, causing the students in the hallway around us to all go, “Awwww.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled Raleigh into my classroom that I used for the next three periods, looking at her with wide eyes.

  “Well, I hear that you got a little action today,” she whispered teasingly.

  I rolled my eyes. “I wish I didn’t. I can’t erase that shit from my brain.”

  She patted me on the hand and then leaned in so that the front of her body was pressed to mine.

  “Makes me wonder about other things, too,” she murmured.

  “What other things?” I questioned.

  “Other things like Coach Casper being Mackie’s alibi for that night that Morgan was hurt.”

  It sickened me to think about it, but the more I thought on it, the more likely it became.

  I should’ve said something then about it, but before I could, the bell rang and Morgan himself rolled into my class with a wide smile on his face.

  “Can I be the ring boy at your wedding, Coach?” he called as he passed. “I’m about the same height as one.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Morgan. Whatever you want to do.”

  With that my woman
patted me on the cheek and told me she would see me later, and I momentarily forgot that there was something I wanted to call the chief of police about until too late.

  Chapter 23

  Peezing- sneezing and peeing at the same time.

  -Text from Raleigh to Ezra

  Raleigh

  My stomach was roiling, and the only thing I could do was sit on the couch and look at Ezra and his niece pitifully.

  “No, listen.” Moira shook her head. “It’s not going to come! I know. It’s my face!”

  Ezra shook his head. “Listen, Snaggletooth. It’s going to come out, I promise. I know these things.”

  Moira shook her head. “No, you listen, Coach Duff. You’re not pulling it out.”

  “What if I pull it out really fast?” he offered.

  The little girl didn’t even take the time to consider his offer.

  Moira shook her head. “Your hands are too fat. I came over here hoping that Aunt Raleigh could get it out with her small fingers. Not your fat ones.”

  I bit my lip and tried not to laugh, knowing if I did it’d make my stomach hurt worse.

  I had a bad case of food poisoning.

  Ezra had a touch himself, but he hadn’t eaten the full portion like I had. He’d only had a tiny little bite.

  Thank God.

  Otherwise we’d have both been sharing the one single bathroom while we both did things out of both ends that should never be shared amongst a couple—at least not this soon in a relationship.

  Today, however, we were babysitting, and I was lying on the couch that Ezra and I spent our first date on.

  I hadn’t contemplated moving in well over four hours.

  Every time I did, the food poisoning would come back with a vengeance.

  “Well, Aunt Raleigh,” he drawled, looking over at me with a bemused smile, “can’t do it right now. You’ll have to either let me do it or come back later.”

  She sighed. “Fine. You can do it, but if you screw up, it’s on you.”

  Ezra snorted and held his hand out for the paper towel.

  “Why isn’t your mommy doing this again?” he asked teasingly.

  Moira gave a long, dragged out sigh. “Because Mommy cries when I cry.”

  “You’re going to cry?” Ezra started to look worried.

  Ezra was a sweet man. What was even sweeter was his love for his niece.

  Moira had all the men in her life wrapped around her pinky finger, and that was no exaggeration.

  If Moira cried, Ezra would be sad.

  This should be fun.

  “Maybe,” Moira offered. “But if I cry, just keep going. It’s gonna happen.”

  “Okay,” Ezra said worriedly. “I’ll try to accomplish that.”

  Moira had really grown up over the last couple of months. Her vocabulary had sky-rocketed as kindergarteners were bound to do. It was awesome seeing her excel.

  Speaking of language…

  “Okay, pull!” Moira ordered.

  Ezra tried.

  He really did.

  But when he tried to pull, he couldn’t get a good grip on it and ended up also gripping the small tooth beside it.

  Then the little girl screamed, and big crocodile tears started to roll down her cheeks.

  Ezra freaked.

  Literally freaked.

  “Oh, God.” He dropped the towel, which had a smidge of blood on it. “Are you okay?”

  “You hurt me, Uncle Ezra!” Moira cried.

  I couldn’t help it.

  I laughed.

  “You think this is funny?” Ezra turned and glared at me.

  Yeah, yeah I did.

  “Moira,” I said softly, pitifully. “Come here and let me try.”

  I went up to my elbow, and once I was able to hold my throw up down—thank God—I went even farther up to my butt.

  I felt drained and completely blah, but I managed to get myself upright and hold my hand out for the paper towel.

  “My turn,” I said softly.

  Moira picked up the towel and ran toward me, holding it out while she continued to cry.

  I didn’t waste time on the tears. Instead, I gestured to the couch and said, “Come sit. Let’s get this done.”

  Because I might very well need to throw up again, and I don’t want to throw up in front of you.

  “Okay,” Moira sniffled.

  I bit my lip to keep the smile from my lips and positioned myself.

  “That one?” I asked, wiggling it to test its readiness.

  “Uh-huh,” Moira mouthed. “’At one.”

  Hooking my fingernail around the back of the tooth, I pulled.

  Moira screamed—but not the scream of pain, more the scream of surprise—and then the tooth was out.

  Ezra glared at me. “I loosened it.”

  I snorted. “No, you fell for the crocodile tears.”

  Ezra shrugged. “I fall for yours, too.”

  That was true.

  I smiled weakly.

  “I don’t cry to get you to give me things, though,” I admitted. “I cry because I’m a klutz that can’t keep herself upright.”

  Moira took the tooth I held out to her in her hand, and then ran out of the room without so much as a thank you.

  Once the door slammed, another wave of nausea hit me.

  That quick, I ran for the door, all thoughts of teeth and Ezra’s smile forgotten.

  ***

  It was the phone call that woke me from a dead sleep.

  “Hello?” Ezra growled.

  I rolled over and stared at Ezra’s back. I could barely make him out, and the only thing in the entire room that was lit up was the alarm clock that read ‘3:03’ and the light from his phone.

  “Gotcha,” Ezra assented as he stood up and made his way to the closet. “Don’t let them leave. I’ll be there in ten minutes, max.”

  With that, he hung up and blew out a long breath.

  “What is it?” I muttered into his pillow.

  I was so tired. After the afternoon we’d spent watching Ezra’s niece while his sister took her son to the doctor in Dallas, I was not happy to find the phone ringing in the middle of the night.

  The nausea had finally abated, but I could still feel traces of the food poisoning causing my system to abhor the thought of food.

  Pairing that with the fact that we’d started school back three days ago, and I was practically a zombie, I was not doing well. Granted, we’d only had the students there for two of them, and it was now officially Saturday morning and I didn’t have to do anything tomorrow, but I just couldn’t rouse myself long enough to get out of bed and go with him.

  “Couple of my players were caught loitering in the school parking lot. I’m heading there to take them home,” he murmured.

  I moaned. “I’m going to kill them.”

  I felt his phone hit the bed and blinked one eye open to see him quickly tugging a shirt over his head.

  Ezra chuckled and bent over the bed, placing a quick kiss on my cheek. “I’ll do it for you on Monday at practice. Don’t worry.”

  With that, he left.

  I heard the sound of his truck start up, but even then, I was only conscious long enough to think that his truck was really quite loud at three o’clock in the morning.

  It was the ringing of the phone that woke me up again.

  This time when I blinked open my eyes, it was to find that the clock read three forty-one.

  Son of a bitch.

  Reaching blindly for the phone that I now realized Ezra left, I snatched it up and placed it to my ear, muttering a ‘hello’ that likely didn’t sound as coherent as I’d meant it.

  “Got a kid of yours here, Coach,” I heard. “He’s drunk off his ass.”

  I blinked open my eyes and stared hard at the wall in frustration. “Where is here?” I asked. “And this is the coach’s soon-to-be wife.”

  He rattl
ed off the address. “Sorry if I woke you. I normally call the coach when his kids are in trouble.”

  I brushed off his apology and sat up, heading for clothes that had been hastily discarded onto the floor when we’d arrived home. “I’ll be there in ten. Don’t let him leave.”

  He should’ve let him leave.

  Why?

  Because it wasn’t a player of Ezra’s that was drunk off his ass. It was an ex-player of Ezra’s, and the kid that scared the bejesus out of me.

  Before I could tell him to find his own ride home, he climbed in my car and I had a choice to make.

  It was the wrong one.

  ***

  Ezra

  I pulled into the driveway and stared at Raleigh’s missing car, a sense of foreboding overtaking me.

  The moment I got inside, I searched for the phone that I’d left on the bed and found it amongst the hastily cast-aside sheets.

  After looking up the last number to call, I groaned and headed back out to my truck.

  As I went, I made the call back to Chocchie.

  “Yellow?” he answered, sounding tired.

  “Chocchie,” I said. “It’s McDuff. You got my girl there?”

  Chocchie grunted. “She just arrived to pick up your boy.”

  “Which one?” I asked, already heading back out to my truck.

  “The one with the smart mouth,” Chocchie said as if that was enough for me to figure out who it was. Didn’t he know that they all had smart mouths as kids?

  “That doesn’t really narrow it down, man,” I grumbled, getting into the vehicle and starting it back up.

  “Hold on,” he paused. “I’ll go…oh, fuck me. Shit, shit! Call 9-1-1!”

  I didn’t know who he was talking to, but by the time I arrived at his bar two and a half minutes later, I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. One that grew when I arrived to find Raleigh on the ground, holding a white bar towel to her face while she watched Chocchie try to keep Mackie on the ground.

  When I arrived, I threw the truck into park and bailed out of the truck before I’d barely gotten the damn seatbelt off.

  Moments later, I was helping Chocchie pin Mackie to the ground, knowing instinctively that the little shit was responsible for the blood I could see on that white towel over Raleigh’s nose.