We Super Shouldn't: Complete Enemies to Lovers Romance Series Collection

by Jamie Knight

  With that, I poured myself a glass of wine and thought about Sasha.

  Was he with her?

  I thought about it. Sure, I understood that his ego had always been larger than the state of Wisconsin. However, even that ostentatious Marvin, that I’m the man guy, didn’t go for the likes of a Sasha.

  He had always liked the girl next door, the good girl.

  The gold digger? That was who he was with?

  It didn’t make sense. Then again, none of this did.

  Apparently, I was still secretly pining for a man for whom I have had lingering unresolved vitriol for years. That seemed to make the least amount of sense of all. It wasn’t what I wanted but it seemed to be how I felt, no matter what.

  Chapter 17

  Marvin

  The drinking hole was crowded and on some days, I couldn’t stand the attention from groupies – it was an old standby Finnegan’s on the Green. I never understood the “on the green” part of its name since that implied golf and there was not one iota of gold memorabilia at this Irish hole in the wall.

  But I never asked about it. I assumed it was something St. Patrick’s Day related but again, it still made no sense to me and I would feel like a dumbass asking questions.

  I’d been coming to this dump for years. In recent months though, I’d backed off a bit, since Kylie needed more help now and any free time I had, I tried to spend with her. But today I needed a drink and I needed to see my old pal, Greg LaValle.

  My old buddy Greg had phoned me that he’d be in town on a business trip for a day and asked if I would meet him for drinks. He worked out of Boston and would often come for a day or two.

  But the last three times he had called, I missed him due to having a game or for one reason or another. He and I went way back, all the way back to middle school. He was my good friend and I couldn’t have asked for better.

  Greg was the guy that made every accomplishment I achieved in high school look like small potatoes. He was team captain in a lot of different sports – of course football was mine – but he played that too and he also dominated in Cross Country, Swimming, Soccer and Basketball. I was never sure how he managed all that responsibility, but he did.

  He was a good-looking dude, kind of home-spun, and he used to be a ladies’ man, but he eventually settled down. He married well, too. Unlike my choices in women after Olivia and me didn’t work out, Greg had it figured out.

  He had chosen the heiress to a huge make up chain out of Chicago. A Grace Kelly type – she was and still is stunning. They went on to have two beautiful children and at least from the looks of it, he couldn’t be happier.

  It figures – back then he was also that guy. He was a positive force and a real charmer but not in a Don Juan kind of way – I had that down. More than that though, in my life, he was the fixer.

  Even though I had charm and looks, I bulldozed my way through school, pissing off every girl I met. I think I was mad – not sure at whom, my mother maybe, my dad mostly – but I deliberately hurt every girl I dated, other than Olivia.

  He would swoop in and be the guy who’d calm them down. Maybe she’d be crying because I didn’t want to see her again after one date and he’d tell the scorned girl in no uncertain terms, “Marvin’s an ass and not worth it.”

  Then he’d give her a big giant bear hug, smelling like Drakaar Noir cologne and it worked every time. They just melted.

  He was so good at the sale, the closing, the explanation for my motivation. It was always just enough so they didn’t try to key my car or destroy me fully.

  It makes sense how he turned out, too. Greg was whip-smart – I never had that. I had athletic skills and fucking street smarts, but Greg had the intellect and academic prowess. He ended up going to Harvard and became a huge entertainment attorney, in addition to still playing sports.

  The guy is aces. I can’t say a bad thing about him.

  So, when he called this time and I was in town, I was very willing to get together and chat. Especially after this Kylie/Candy situation. Even if it meant dealing with groupies or haters, I’d go out and meet up with him. My old bud was tops.

  Here I was sitting here waiting for him. Punctuality was never LaValle’s strong suit. I guess we all have some bad habits. As I bounced my knee impatiently, swollen and ripped up as it was feeling, I was trying not to get angry at the fact that he was late - forty minutes to be exact.

  He phoned me from the limo and gave me some excuse about the George Washington Bridge, but I’d heard it a million times.

  I just said, “Yeah, get here when you get here, bud.”

  As I sat in the watering hole, which for some reason smelled like urine at that moment, I kept my head buried in my phone to stay incognito. I was praying no one would notice me. I didn’t need any hecklers, or even any fans wanting me to sign autographs.

  Five minutes later, there it was anyway, though. The bartender who happened to be a newbie recognized me. My temper was close to exploding. This wasn’t the day. I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue as he hollered out for all to hear.

  “Hey aren’t you Ward? Marvin Ward? Yeah, you play for the Leviathons? Dude, you are legendary. First round is on the house, man. What can I get ya?”

  That’s all it took. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, not out of embarrassment but out of pure frustration, which was increased right at that moment as the first fake-tittied princess walked up and tried to hang all over me.

  “Yeah, thanks bud. Uh listen, a seat in the back maybe and a scotch – Glenfiddich. Thanks dude. Oh, and I’m waiting for a friend, an important friend.”

  The bartender winked at me as if to say, you go, player. I think it was his way of trying to ensure that I could cheat indiscriminately. As if that’s why I wanted a seat in back for my “important” friend.

  Distracted, I pushed the Q-tip with tits off me. But then I turned my attention back to the bartender, since his coy cozying up to me was getting under my skin.

  “No bud. My pal, Greg is meeting me. He’ll be the guy in the expensive tailored suit, the one that costs more than the whole bar. Got it? Can you direct him back here, along with my scotch?”

  I started to walk toward a set of more private tables.

  “Yeah anything else you need, Sport, just hit me up. You bet.”

  Just as I was about to blow that sorry clambake, Greg showed up with his usual panache. I was a tad aggravated because I had told him I didn’t have a lot of time and that I would have to get home to Kylie, but it wasn’t worth addressing.

  He looked like a million dollars, maybe a billion. Even after winning the Super Bowl, even in my nice tailored suit that I only wear to the few upscale events I go to, I have never looked that expensive.

  I’m worth a lot now but I was never any good at showing it. I wouldn’t know the right designers or brand name clothing items to wear if they came up and jumped onto my body.

  I stood up to give Greg my handshake and he pulled me in a for a big hug and heavy love slam on my shoulder. He still smelled like Drakaar Noir. I guess if it works, don’t mess with it.

  “How the hell have you been, Greg? You look amazing. The wife is keeping you fit, huh?”

  “Fit and happy. That and eight mile runs every day. Anyway, what are you having? Let me get you a round—”

  “No, I uh, can’t stay long. I have to rush home to my daughter, Kylie, after this. I’m good. I have a Scotch. You? What can I get you?”

  Just then the coy bartender was all up in our space.

  “Sir, can I get you anything? It’s on the house. Since you’re friends with The Man, here, and any friend of his is a friend of mine.”

  Man, this young whipper-snapper isn’t going to have a job for very much longer if he keeps buying everyone’s drinks.

  “Thanks, yes, I’ll have a Vodka on the rocks with a splash of lime,” Greg said.

  And he handed the bartender a fifty. I thought the poor kid’s head was going to fly off his shou
lders. First, he met a football hero and then he was tipped fifty bucks on one drink. This was definitely his lucky day.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you so much. I’ll bring it right away.”

  Once the bartender walked away, I turned back to Greg.

  “Kylie is at my house with my dad. You remember the old man? We have a situation with her mother—”

  “Candy?”

  “Right, I filled you in some. She’s a mess, Greg. I’ve about had it. She’s in rehab now but it’s not going to stick. And it’s not healthy for Kylie.”

  “Yeah bud. That’s a quagmire.”

  He always used big words.

  “Yes, good call – a quagmire. I’d much rather say a clusterfuck, but you bring the class out in me so let’s just put it kindly and call it a quagmire.”

  The fidgety bar boy brought Greg’s vodka.

  Greg laughed at my “quagmire” comment and raised his glass.

  “To clusterfucks!”

  I clinked his glass.

  “To quagmires. It’s great to see you, bud.”

  “You too, friend.”

  “Hey, did I tell you about the teacher conference? No, right?”

  “No. What? For Kylie?”

  “Yeah, so I was called by her teacher because the school wanted to discuss with Candy and me some abhorrent behavior displayed by Kylie.”

  “She’s six.”

  “I know – and that’s what I said. Listen, I nearly ripped the principal a new asshole but that’s not the point. You’ll never guess who her teacher turned out to be?”

  “Well, you’re right. I couldn’t possibly guess. Who?”

  “Olivia.”

  “Olivia from high school? Your gorgeous, wholesome girl who you were such a dumb ass that you broke up with?”

  “Yeah that one. Well, I didn’t break up with her. We mutually parted ways.”

  “No way. How was that? That had to be the height of awkward. And might I ask, was she still rocking the sweet brickhouse figure? She was a looker.”

  I smiled sort of mischievously, for no other reason than I didn’t know how to answer. But he read a whole bunch into that grin.

  “Oh, I see it, Ward; you are into it. Are you about to get it on with her again?”

  I barked, “No way. Get your head out of your dick. I’m not that big of a cad. She’s her teacher. Anyway, Olivia is also a Goddamned stick in the mud who has it out for Kylie.”

  “Hmm. She must have changed a bit. I can’t imagine her ever having it out for anyone. Are we really talking about sweet Olivia, the girl whose cherry you popped and then left?”

  “Oh, come on, stop acting like I broke her heart. She was the one who wanted to explore the world – she went to Paris and shit – she was too good for me. And she’s got a devilish side. She still has it out for me. But she shouldn’t take it out on the kid! Anyway, yes, that Olivia. Although, I admit she looked smokin’ hot. Just as good as she did in high school. Honestly, maybe hotter.”

  I told myself to stop thinking about her like that, and then continued talking.

  “So, we had this meeting and I felt like a perv. Seriously, I had a bigger panic attack than I knew was possible. All I could think was ‘get me out of here.’ It was so disturbing that I was attracted to my daughter’s teacher and not able to act on it. Also, the principal was giving Sasha a time about her behavior and I was embarrassed because she’s not exactly great nanny material.”

  Greg gave me a look.

  “Yeah, I know, you’ve tried to talk to me about her before,” I continued, because he had. “This whole thing has me realizing even more how wrong it is for me to keep Sasha employed as Kylie’s nanny. She clearly has some ulterior motive. I need to find another nanny, but that’s easier said than done – you know how many I’ve gone through and how many potential applicants I talked to before I found Sasha. But, anyway, at this point, no. No in answer to your question— I am not banging my daughter’s first grade teacher.”

  As if on cue, my cell phone rang. It was Sasha.

  She sure knew how to ruin a good time.

  Chapter 18

  Marvin

  What the hell — does Sasha have a chip in my phone?, I thought to myself, as I answered it by saying “Hello?”

  “Hello, Marvin, this is Sasha,” she said, even though she knew that I have her number in my cell phone.

  I could hear in her voice that she was upset that I was out with a friend, but it was no business of hers. That girl was starting to become downright stalker-ish.

  She said, “If you don’t have to be with Kylie then I should not have to be with her.”

  She was grating on my last nerve. My father was watching the kid, not her. Yes, he was at our house, but Sasha had no obligation to hang out with them. And she was paid handsomely whenever she did have to watch her. I hated when she acted ungrateful. But I kept my cool.

  “You’re right. You don’t have to watch her. You can go home. And tell my dad I’ll be home soon.”

  I kept my thoughts about her craziness lately to myself. I thought it better that way. I had a couple drinks in me and I figured I may say something very fucking untoward that I couldn’t retract later.

  With my jaw clenched, I kept silent. But I very much wanted to expound on the fact that Sasha was becoming a royal pain in my ass.

  Still, it wouldn’t reflect well on me in front of Greg. He’d told me countless times that Sasha was bad news and that I should get rid of her. I knew I was stupid not to listen, but he didn’t know how hard it was to find childcare.

  Plus, I was already mildly embarrassed at my apparent failures in all areas of my life, especially in comparison to Greg’s stellar career and his glowing marriage to Princess Grace or whatever her name was. I could never remember – Alexis or something – I didn’t know.

  He kept her tucked away in a safe somewhere in New England. I didn’t know if he was afraid to bring her into public because he thought every guy would hit on her, or what.

  “I gotta go,” I told him, finishing the rest of my drink. “Daddy duties call.”

  “No problem, man,” Greg said, standing up to give me a hug. “I know I missed good times with you being late to get here. It was nice talking to you. Try not to bang your daughter’s teacher. Or, hey, maybe you should get with her – since she was good for you.”

  Whatever, I thought, knowing how he liked to dispense life advice. I had to admit he was right, though. Olivia had been good for me and I had never managed to find anyone like her ever since I let her go.

  At home, Kylie looked like a little angel. She had fallen asleep in my old Letterman jacket. I guess my dad had been showing her my trophies. He said she tried so hard to wait up for me but couldn’t make it.

  I kissed her on the cheek and lifted her rag doll little body up, to take her off to bed. Sometimes I did feel guilty. Sometimes, but I could only be responsible for so much.

  “I love you, monkey. Daddy loves you.”

  As I stared at her hot little sweaty face, so peaceful in slumber, I knew I wasn’t doing this well. I wasn’t the father I’d always wanted to be. I wasn’t. But, overwhelmed by it all, I thought, Man how could you be? Who taught you? Who taught you, huh?

  Just then I heard my dad letting himself out, as if in answer to my question.

  I couldn’t think about it anymore. Between Sasha who driving me crazy and Candy the pill popper, it was too much. I couldn’t contain it any more. I kissed little Kylie, one more time and hopped in the shower. A hot shower would wash all this shit away – hopefully.

  The water washed nothing away. As the rain from the faucet cascaded over my body and I closed my eyes, all I could see was Olivia. The first time she laid back on that hotel bed and let me take her, her breasts were so taut. She had goosebumps all over her ivory skin.

  I had slipped it in so carefully and she took my whole cock. It was the perfect fantasy come true. The good girl, looking at me with such pain mixed with unbridled p
leasure. The cute school-girl fantasy that only I was living in.

  Now I was right back there. Pounding hard on her tight pussy as she winced and then somehow came like a wild slut. I could smell her again. I lathered up my hand with soap and stroked my cock. It was so hard – just the thought of her did that to me. I couldn’t jerk off hard enough.

  The truth is, I was beginning to think I’d never be able to forget about her. She would always haunt my dreams, my fantasies – and now, my daughter’s real-life classroom. I slipped my hand over the wet head, up and down and leaned up against the granite shower and came like I was with Olivia all over again.

  I stepped out of the shower feeling mad at myself for not being able to get Olivia out of my head. I always thought I was fucking over her, but then I always realized I wasn’t.

  Maybe I knew there was still a connection with Olivia. And that no one had ever done it for me like she had. Or perhaps I knew I had feelings… or could it be that I just wanted Olivia one last time?

  I slipped into bed, and as I did, my phone rang, and Sasha’s name came up on it again.

  Fuck.

  Thinking she had forgotten to tell me something important pertaining to Kylie, I answered.

  “Hey Marvin, I’m sorry I was a bit high strung earlier,” she said, and that was when I realized she had just called to chat. “I felt bad that you lost your game. I was just trying to think of what could help you get back on top.”

  “I… appreciate that, I guess…” I told her, which was completely untrue. “But we have to think about what’s best for Kylie, not what’s best for me.”

  “I know,” she said. “But Kylie is always acting up and saying she wants her mom, so maybe that’s what’s best for Kylie, too?”

  This was beginning to seem like she wanted to get rid of Kylie and get me all to herself. But I tried not to think of her in such a negative light. She at least had the decency to be kind and patient with Kylie, to help her with school assignments and things like riding her bike – that was a lot more than other nannies I’d tried in the past had done.