“The dinner party is tonight.”
The napkin falls to the floor. “Tonight?” There is no way I can help Paige without cancelling with Aiden, and I need this dinner, to seduce him. I need to prove so many things to myself, and—
Paige sniffs. “It’s not enough time, is it?”
My heart turns in my chest.
What am I thinking? Paige is my very best friend. She’s always been there for me, even when I was stinky and gross from wallowing in bed and crying over Joe for days on end. I insisted she leave me in my misery, which she agreed to do... but not before convincing me to take a shower and brush my teeth.
Aiden didn’t show up until that afternoon, so he can’t take credit for dynamiting my tail out of bed... but he did have a part in it.
“Sure it is.” I put on a bright smile. “Now, what pin on Pinterest made you think of glitter?”
She shrugs helplessly. “I’m hungry and can’t think straight, remember?” She collapses in a chair and grabs a glass of white wine, tossing it back like it’s water. “Besides, you have plans tonight.”
“They’ve changed,” I assure her. As soon as I talk Paige down from the proverbial ledge, I’ll text Aiden. I’m sure he’ll be relieved.
She eyes me in disbelief.
“I promise to be here for as long as you need me.” I draw an X over my heart with my pointer finger.
“Everyone will be here at five thirty.”
Okay, so that’s cutting it really close. “How many RSVPed?”
“Six.”
Holy poopballs. “Eight total, then?”
My slight panic must have shown on my face, because Paige nods and says, “I’m so screwed.”
“Not with me at your side, you’re not.” Bending over to retrieve the napkin, I toss it on the table. “You order takeout from wherever for lunch, and leave the party to me.”
“Really?”
I nod. This is where I shine. This is where I can be more than simply Layton Price, jilted wife of Joe, who can’t even get a man to have revenge sex with her.
“Absolutely, sugar.” I shoo her into the living room. “Relax in there while I work my magic.”
“You’re the best friend ever.”
Until the moment I figured out that Paige needed my help more than I needed to convince Aiden he needs to sex me up, I wasn’t.
But I will be from now on.
“So are you,” I say softly.
“Aaaand done,” I say before collapsing in a chair. “The list of things to do during the party as well as the times everything should be taken out is on the island. Also, I have six timers going for you. I made another list of the times that directly correspond to the dish so you don’t have to figure out what comes out when.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
My outfit is a mess.
My fingers are cramping from writing so much.
I have sugar and flour all over my jeans, and only God knows where else due to a freak baking mishap. I smell like a combination of steak and asparagus, and I’m pretty sure there are slivers of julienned carrots tangled up in my hair... but the look of awe and gratefulness on Paige’s face makes it all worth it.
“Yes, I did. Go take a gander at your dining room.”
She practically skips away.
“Holy shit! It’s beautiful. Amazing. Fabulous,” she calls out. “And the table place setting... I’m almost afraid to let anyone eat in here.”
Pleased as punch that she’s happy, I slouch lower in my chair, finish off the last gulp of wine, then place it on the counter. “Keep ‘em coming, honey. Keep them coming.”
“Perfection.”
“Okay, you can stop there.”
Paige comes back into the kitchen and sits beside me. “You are amazing. I actually have an hour before everyone arrives. To get ready.”
I glance at her. “Not if you don’t start before Dallas gets home.”
“That’s true.” Blushing, she grins big. “Guess I better—”
“Honey, I’m home,” Dallas sings out as he comes through the back door. “I got bruises and shit that need a lot of attention.”
I wriggle my eyebrows at her. “Told ya.”
Dallas’s gaze falls on me. “What are you doing here—no offense.”
“None taken.” I push myself up to a more ladylike position. “I'm helping Paige with the finishing touches for y’all’s party tonight. Check out the dining room.”
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“Gee, thanks,” Paige mumbles, but she doesn’t look too hurt by it. “I think you actually have to go to the dining room to see what it looks like.”
Dallas grabs her up in a bear hug, nuzzling her temple. “I’m sure it’s gorgeous, baby.”
She smiles. “Thank you. Layton did—”
“I just sat back and watched Paige work her magic while she listened to me complain about last night’s disaster with Aiden.” I sigh thickly, then shake myself out of my selfish misery to put the spotlight back on my bestie. “You have the most talented fiancée in existence.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are, and I don’t want to hear another thing about it.” He kisses her forehead, and she melts against him, making me want to cry in happiness for them.
Did Joe and I ever look like that?
Did I ever melt against him because he made my knees so weak?
I don’t want to think about the answers to either of those questions, because I know what they’d be.
“Back to you.” Dallas lets go of Paige, who leaves us to rummage around in the kitchen. He pins his gaze on me again, giddiness apparent in his eyes. “I managed to wring some highly confidential information out of Aiden, and from what I understand, dinner should be happening between the two of you tonight.”
“Oh no,” I groan before frantically scrambling for my phone. “I totally forgot to text him that I have to cancel dinner.”
“You can’t stand up my boy like that.”
“Stand him up? Yeah, right.” I laugh without mirth. “He’ll probably be relieved that I’m cancelling.”
“I don’t give a damn what he is.”
“He’s not interested,” I insist. “He doesn’t like pigtails, cheerleading uniforms, or sex. With me, I mean,” I add hastily, because the last thing I need to do is spill Aiden’s secret. “He still thinks of me as Kingston’s little sister, and he even mentioned boundaries.”
“You need to cross those boundaries. Most likely, you caught him off guard and he fumbled.”
“Or he ducked. Refused to catch. Purposefully threw the play.” I rack my brain for more sports-like terms, but come up with nothing.
Paige brings him a beer and me a bottle of water. “I think y’all need a drink.”
“Lookit, during his walk-through today, his practices were perfection. I got a good feeling about tomorrow’s game—best I ever had,” Dallas says.
“You think that's because of me?” I croak. “Oh my Lord. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a person.” I gulp down half my water, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“It has to be, because you're the only thing that changed.”
“We didn’t...” I shut my mouth, unwilling to share Aiden’s secret, even if it means I have to look and sound like a fool.
Dallas lowers his chin, looking around the room for a second. “I know about his superstition, okay.”
“Um... what superstition?” Better to play dumb than to assume and have Aiden mad at me.
“No sexy times during the season.”
So he does know. “I can’t take that kind of rejection every weekend.”
“He wasn't too happy about rejecting you,” Dallas says, as serious as anything.
I perk up a little. “He wasn't?”
“Nope.”
Paige perches on the arm of my chair and smooths my hair back from my face. “You don’t have to do anything.” She gives Dallas a meaningful look. “She do
esn’t have to do anything because of your feelings.”
“That’s right, I don’t. Not even if I really, really want to.”
“Yeah, that really, really sounds like you don’t want to.” With a roll of his eyes, he leans against the wall. “You can’t mess with the man's head, Layton. He's gonna be worthless tomorrow if you do.”
“I'm sorry, but how in the world did I mess with his head?”
Paige arches a brow. “You’re heading into dangerous territory, Dallas. Like Wickham territory.”
“Damn book boyfriends.” He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “If you could do me the solid of keeping your dinner plans with Aiden, I’d owe you.”
Paige’s eyes narrow. “But...” she prompts.
“I’m getting to it,” he assures her, and I have to bite back a smile. “But if you’re not comfortable in any way and decide against it, then we’ll take you to Pan Asian tomorrow after the game. My treat for putting so much pressure on you.”
Pan Asian is my favorite restaurant. Paige’s, too.
“That’s so sweet,” Paige coos at him, and I swear his chests puffs out. “You are so getting rewarded for that.”
“Hey guys, can y’all wait until I leave?”
“For dinner with Aiden?” Dallas says hopefully. “I mean, if you want...”
I do want. It might be foolish or dumb, or more than my heart can take in rejections, but I’m not in love with Aiden. I’m barely in lust with him.
Yes, he’s hot.
Yes, our kiss was mind-blowingly amazing.
Yes, he could help me get over Joe super quick.
Wait. Why am I against having dinner with Aiden?
I rise from the chair.
“Don’t leave on our account,” Paige says, even though I know she wants to have alone time with Dallas before everyone gets here. Plus, I know that Paige needs time to get in the right state of mind for a party like this. Well, any party really. She’s more of a homebody. A ride-or-die-until-nine-pm type of girl.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about the hardcore partying either, but there’s something so energizing about one, about mingling and meeting new people.
“I’m not. I have to get ready.” I pick up my purse. “For a date with your boy.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Dallas makes a fist, pulling it down sharply. “I’m taking you to Pan Asian with Paige any way. Name the day and the time, and I’ll check my schedule.”
“Looking forward to it.” I finish gathering my things while Paige helps me. Dallas strides out of the kitchen, snagging a couple of hors d’oeuvres along the way.
“Don’t eat those,” Paige admonishes.
“Sorry.” Dallas jogs back in the kitchen, kisses Paige, and snags another bacon-wrapped asparagus. “I can’t help myself.”
“That man.” She shakes her head as he leaves for what I presume to be the final time.
“You love him.”
“A lot.” She loops her arm through mine, and walks with me to the back door. “If you want to rehash what happened with Joe... I’m here for you.”
“He married me, honeymooned me, and then left me, all with in a week,” I say softly. “That’s the sordid truth.”
“It’s not fair. I thought you had your entire life planned out and were well on your way to a happily ever after.”
I lean my head against her shoulder. “So did I.”
Chapter 12
Aiden
THEY SAY THERE’S A first time for everything... and judging by the way I’ve been agonizing over what the hell I should wear to dinner with Layton, I’d say whoever they are, they’re right on the money.
“Hey, it’s me. I lost my key,” Sam says as he pounds on the door.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I stride to the door and yank it open. “You’re not rooming with me...” The words die on my lips when I find Layton standing on the other side.
“Thanks, Sam,” she says with a friendly smile.
“Anytime, cutie.” He winks at her, then tips up his chin at me before walking to the room across the hall and putting his key in the door. “Enjoy dinner, McHugh.”
“Nice outfit.” Her gaze turns hot as it slides down.
While she’s never thought of me as anything more than her brother’s best friend, she sure as shit doesn’t mind letting me know that she’s attracted to me.
“Why are you here?”
Her smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes... her eyes go from blazing hot to lukewarm. “Dinner? Dallas informed me that eating at Kingston’s was a no-go because unless you have special permission, y’all are expected to eat at the hotel even when there’s a home game.”
Note to self, don’t throw a single fucking ball Drake’s way tomorrow. “Wasn’t that thoughtful of him?” My towel starts to slide, and I grab it.
“Don’t get modest on my account,” she says as a mouthwatering smell drifts to me. “Brought your favorite...”
“Lasagna.” Automatically, I rub my hands together. “Garlic bread, Caesar salad, and dessert—doesn’t matter what, but I always have something sweet at the end.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Dallas said you always ate skinless grilled chicken, unseasoned veggies, and a plain baked potato the night before the game. He also said you eat a fruit salad as your dessert.”
“That’s what he eats.”
“Not tonight. I made—I mean, Paige cooked the most amazing meal and planned everything to perfection. Y’all’s coach and his wife will be there. Along with the owners of the Renegades. Not sure if Finley or Kingston will be there.”
I eye her, taking in the spots of flour on her dark jeans and the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon. “You made snickerdoodle cake, didn’t you?”
She grins sheepishly. “I might have, just to help out Paige a little.”
Knowing her, she took over the entire thing. “Uh-huh.”
“I might have brought you one, too.” She shakes a large bag covered in a floral print at me. “If you let me inside, I’ll feed it to you.”
Against my better judgment, I step back from the door. “Come on in. I’ll get dressed and then we can go to the—” The door closes with a distinctive sound, almost like it’s sealing my fate with her. “As I was saying, we can take this over to—”
“We’ll stay right here.” She points to the table and two chairs by the windows. “The view’s nice.”
The suite is set up like a home away from home since some of the guys like to have their families come eat with them the night before. Our coach isn’t too strict about that part, but room curfew is another thing. He’ll bench our asses if we’re not where we’re supposed to be.
“This is the perfect spot for our dinner,” she says.
And the bed that’s exactly fifteen steps away is the perfect spot to fuck you in. “It’s your dinner.” I grab a pair of sweats and a Renegade t-shirt with my name and number emblazoned on the back, then move to the bathroom. Keeping the door mostly closed, because based on last night, I wouldn’t put it past Layton to try to get a sneak peek of the goods.
She’d enjoy the view and whatnot, but so would I, and therein lies the problem.
“Dinner and send her sweet ass packing,” I remind myself as I pull the shirt over my head. “You can do this. Dinner and home. Dinner and home on three.”
“Do you need some help?” Layton calls, her lilting accent and enticing question making my non-listening dick harden.
Fuck me. She hasn’t given up.
I’m turned on and freaked the fuck out. I’d rather face my old coach, bare ass naked while I screw his daughter in the locker room—which never happened because I’m not a fucking idiot led around by my dick—than go out there with Layton.
Hell, the thought of her feeding me cake is more erotic than riding pine while a chick rides me because instead of a fantasy, I’d have the real thing.
The real Layton.
Only in the past few years, the woman
in my fantasies is Layton.
Only Layton.
“Nah. I’m good.” I join her at the table before she can get me alone in the bathroom. Not that this is any better because my eyes keep going to the bed. The huge king bed that’s the perfect size for the two of us. We could have a lot of fun on that mattress.
I imagine her on top of me, her perfect tits out, dusky pink nipples hard while I grip her tiny waist and suck on them until she screams my name. She’d be hot, welcoming, and so fucking wet.
Desire rushes over me, hitting with the force of a linebacker on a steroid-induced rage. Not the prettiest of images, but thinking of one of my teammates tackling me right now does the job of making my dick deflate to a more manageable size.
Layton looks up, a pretty smile on her face. “I got take out from 451. Hope you like... lasagna!” She pulls a napkin off my plate of food with a flourish. “I knew Dallas’s favorite food from Paige, so I thought it would be fun to tease you by saying I’d gotten that instead.”
“You got me all right.” My mouth waters at the sight of all that pasta. “Garlic bread and Caesar salad, too. Damn, girl, learn how to make this from scratch like my ma, and I’ll marry you.”
Her face falls.
“Shit. I didn’t mean... Fuck.” I grab her wrist, pulling her up to me. “Sorry, LT, I wasn’t thinking. Sometimes, my mouth gets in the way.”
She nods. “I know.”
Our lips are close, but thankfully far enough away that I can mostly resist her. This is where short-girl problems are tall-guy advantages. I don’t know what I would do if I could reach her mouth without bending my head down to hers.
“The cake’s homemade—what does that get me?” she says.
I could say me. I could give in and get everything carnal I’ve ever wanted from her, but it wouldn’t be enough. And she’s not looking for forever, just right now.
There’s no way I’ll allow myself to be just a revenge fuck to get back at her husband.
Sidelined Page 9