by TC Matson
Trenton ignores Brian and keeps focused on Lucas. “Good practice,” he says. “But I saw one issue. You’re heavy on your feet at times. Lighten up.”
“I got tired, Mr. B.,” Lucas confesses.
“Champions don’t get tired. You need to do more conditioning. Try alternating between short and long sprints.”
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Brian interrupts with a condescending tone.
Trenton smiles devilishly. “Mr. Bratcher. Lucas’ teacher and number one fan.” He slides his hazel eyes to me. “Next to Riley of course,” he states with a deep admiration.
He’s being a smartass.
“I’m Brian, Lucas’ dad.” He puffs his chest out. “There isn’t a bigger fan than me.”
“Hmm,” Trenton grunts, cocking a brow, faking perplexity. “Strange. I’ve never seen you at a practice or a game.”
My eyes bulge and I grimace.
“Don’t forget we have a math test tomorrow,” Trenton tells Lucas and then his eyes, braided with a protectiveness and care, shifts to me and he displays a sweet smile. “I’ll see you next practice.”
Brian clears his throat compelling me to rip my eyes off the back of Trenton. His eyebrows are drawn in closely, his nostrils slightly flaring. “A friend of yours?” That wasn’t just a caustic question. It was laced with an accusing imploration.
“Lucas’ teacher. He’s come to all the practices and the game.” I don’t lie.
He narrows his eyes and tilts his side. “Really?”
“He says he loves the sport,” I shrug nonchalantly. “Let’s get home so I can make dinner.”
I’m dying to get out of this conversation.
“Can I ride with you, Dad?” Lucas interrupts Brian’s sharp glare.
“Yeah,” he says. “Go ahead and get in the truck.”
Lucas has gained distance from us when Brian grasps my arm, stopping me. “What the fuck was that?” he gruffs.
His fingers dig into my skin. “What are you talking about?”
“Did I interrupt something between you two?”
I yank my arm out of his hand. “You’ve lost your mind,” I grit. “Apparently, I’m not the only one with a wild imagination.” I spew his own words at him and storm off toward my car.
I toss my chair in the trunk and drop into my car. I haven’t even cranked it up when my phone rings.
“The more I’m around him, the more I don’t like him. And if I ever see him put his hands on you again, I promise I won’t bite my tongue,” April seethes through the phone. “He was so busy demanding your attention… What the fuck just happened?”
“I’m assuming his insecurities just flared.”
“Did Mr. B. say something to light the fuse?”
“Yeah,” I say sharply. “He didn’t act himself. He was a smartass.”
“We are talking about Mr. B., right?” she snorts. “Maybe he did it to light a fire under Brian’s ass?” she questions.
“For what gain? What would he possible get out of it?”
“Maybe he thinks having another man interacting in your life will benefit you? Or he was marking his territory?”
My face pinches out of confusion. “Do what? That’s ludicrous. He knows where I stand.”
“The other night you stood before him.”
“Don’t. Don’t make me feel guilty for having a friendly encounter. I did nothing wrong. I laid stake where my heart is.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you,” she says.
“I think he truly likes Lucas and Brian’s absence upsets him.”
“Does playing dumb help your conscience and put blinders on you?”
“Yes,” I exhale the truth. “If I pretend I don’t see it then it’s not there.”
“That only works when you’re little hiding from ghosts under the sheets.”
“It’s working for me now. Okay? Just let me handle this how I want,” I snap.
“So you do see it then?”
“It’s an illusion, April. I’m starving for attention.”
“So close to the edge of the truth and she jumps the hell off the cliff,” she laughs.
Anger draws me in as I pull into the driveway behind Brian’s Denali. “None of that was anything. Quit trying to make it out to be something. You’re overreacting to a morsel of attention and looking into things that aren’t there.”
“Whatever you tell yourself, honey.” She sounds restrained forcing a calm tone. “Call me if you need me.”
Once in the house, I make a beeline to the kitchen, avoiding everyone, and start dinner. I’m vexed replaying the whole afternoon from Trenton’s smart-aleck interactions to Brian’s jealous responses as I cook. I’m using more force than I should as I stir the hamburger meat, and the sound of the knife slamming against the cutting board echoes as I cut up the lettuce.
I call the guys to wash up and am scooping the taco meat into their shells when I feel his eyes on me. His presence is always intense and it crawls across my skin. I turn to see Brian leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching me thoughtfully. I smile tenderly, still frustrated, and turn back around to finish making the plates.
He presses his body against my back and lays a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
I close my eyes and lean back into him.
“I hated how he looked at you,” he says.
“No one can ever look at me the way you do,” I tell him.
He huffs a short breath and places his lips to the shell of my ear. “I recall looking at you just like that before we started dating. I wanted you. Lusted for you. And fantasized about you.”
As sweet as that sounded, the hidden insinuation makes me uncomfortable and I swallow it, twisting into his arms. “I think you were drunk that night,” I tease folding my arms around his neck. “In fact, you were so drunk, you could’ve humped a stop sign and known no difference.”
His brown eyes smile. “I wasn’t drunk. And there was something about you. I didn’t want to hump you that night. I wanted to get to know you. You deserved better than a heartless fuck, but if I had known you were going to make me wait three long torturous months to have sex with you, I probably would’ve fucked you in the bathroom.”
I giggle. “It was worth the wait,” I whisper kissing his bottom lip.
“Well worth the wait,” he agrees with a low tone.
“I’ve missed this,” I say.
“Show me how much when we go to bed,” he whispers.
I’m in the shower when I feel his presence again. I wipe the water from my eyes and even though I know he’s there, I still jump a bit.
“Lucas is in bed. He says goodnight,” he states.
“Care to join me?” I ask from under my wet, matted lashes.
His eyes travel down my naked body, pausing briefly on the areas that arouse him the most. He shakes his head with a wolfish smile. “Are you finished?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
He reaches in, turns off the water, and grabs my hand leading me to the bed. Cold air blasts against my warm skin and goosebumps spread. Drops of water stream down my body, creating puddles underneath my bare feet. He pushes my wet body onto the bed and gets out of his shorts, springing his arousal from the confines of the fabric.
He starts at my feet, lapping the water and gliding along my calves and up my thighs. I sigh, sinking into the wet, sticky covers. His brown eyes are fixed on mine, ignited by seduction. I writhe when he makes his way over my hip bone, crossing my stomach and traveling up to my breasts. He clasps my nipple between his teeth and gently bites down. My body reacts, my back bowing off the bed. A chuckle vibrates my skin as he trails his tongue to my neck, taking a brief pause at my jawline before making his way down the left side of my body.
Once to my left ankle, he heavily drags his hands up the inside of my legs crawling between them. He dips a finger into me, and immediately heat courses across my skin. He watches as my body takes his fingers, befo
re leaning and tracing my clit with his tongue.
I melt against his hand, moaning softly and rocking my hips into him. Lightning bolts shoot into each limb as my orgasm begins to peak. My legs begin to quake.
“Tell me,” he sighs against my apex.
“I want you,” I whine, giving him the wrong answer.
He flicks his tongue hastily, sucking harder, and pressing deeper into me. It sends me over the edge. My hips thrust forward against his face, my grip on the sheets tighten, and I begin my ride off the cliff. I rock against his mouth, panting.
He clambers on top of me and shoves his dick into me, filling me as he leans and catches my moan in his mouth. I drag my hands up his cheeks and scrape my fingers along the sides of his head through his hair. Wrapping my legs around his hips, he brings his body to mine creating a marvelous friction.
“You’re fucking perfect, Riley. I love you so much,” he grits out between thrusts. “So fucking perfect.”
He repeats over and over how much he loves me before his plunges become fierce and he shudders, losing himself into me. His hips lose control and he lets out a long groan, apologizing and begging me to forgive him.
He falls to his back, pulling me against his chest. Our breaths are wild, out of control as he drags his fingertips along my shoulder. But before I know it, we level out and his heartbeat is steady under my ear.
I play with a small patch of hair right below his belly button. “What do I need to forgive you for? Why are you so sorry?”
His heartbeat picks up in tempo again. I feel his muscles tense under me. He reaches and stops my hand, pulling it up and around his neck, adjusting our bodies where he’s on his side and his forehead is against mine.
“For not being here as much as I should be,” he finally answers.
“I love you regardless.” I smile but something doesn’t feel right. The air between us is heavy. My gut instincts are worrisome. “Are you sure that’s all?”
He blinks slowly before returning this gaze to mine. “I hate how much we miss each other.”
I dance my fingertips along his cheek. “You need a vacation.”
He laughs softly. “That’s a word in my vocabulary I miss using. It will be a long while before I’m able to.”
“Maybe you’re feeling sick?” I tease.
He laughs again. “Sick or not, I still have to go in.”
“Not if you have a man-cold. I’ve heard those are pretty deadly,” I jest.
He kisses my forehead. “We’ll go somewhere tropical.”
“Promise?”
“Sure.” But it was far from promising.
The annoying thud from his phone vibrating on the night stand interjects into our tender moment and he exhales.
“Who’s calling you at this hour?” I ask as he reaches for it.
I catch the name Alex as he gets out of the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he says before answering the phone. “Hold on,” he tells the stranger on the other end as he puts on a pair of shorts.
Either my imagination is really running rampant this time or I truly just heard a woman reply to him.
My heart is screaming in my ear as I watch him exit the room. My hands begin to shake and I sit up, pulling the covers over my chest, waiting intently for him to come back and calm my worried thoughts.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long and within a few minutes he comes back in. But I can immediately tell he’s not in a good mood.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Alex,” he sighs. “There’s a mix up with some of the steel.” His tone is dull, losing all the tenderness it just had.
He gets back into the bed and lies on his back with an arm behind his head. I scoot up beside him and try putting my head back on his chest.
He groans. “I’m not in the mood, Riley.”
My face falls and I frown. “Can I try to make it better? I have a really good way I can help.” I trace my hand down his stomach.
He stops me from dipping under his waistline. His eyes are empty and careless, almost disgusted when he glares at me.
“You can’t just do that to me,” I exclaim despairingly. “Make love to me, promise the world, and then shut me out.”
“Go to bed, Ri,” he says exasperatedly.
“How do you switch so easily?” I plea, fighting the hurt in my throat.
But it’s a question left unanswered as he turns over presenting his back to me. I stare at him in disbelief before scowling and wrenching my body onto its side. I curl up, gripping my pillow tight and slamming my eyes shut to prevent the tears. My pulse is ferocious and my body is shaking from anger.
It’s long after his breathing levels out and his slight snore begins before I feel the angered rage slip away, allowing me to finally fall asleep all while my mind races all the way to the finish line.
Chapter 11
It’s been two days since Brian pulled his Jekyll and Hyde move, and not a damn thing has gotten any better. He’s back to the same old fucked up Brian—distant with few words and the least amount of eye contact possible. He’s disconnected from us again. And I’m back to feeling inconsequential.
I warn April when she places her chair down that I’m not in a good mood. I don’t want to be bothered. I don’t want a pick-me-up. I want to sulk and drown in my damn misery today. Thankfully she heeds my warning and respects my wishes, pulling out her phone.
The breeze blows over the blades of grass, bending them one direction only for them to lazily stand back up and wait for another gust to repeat its process. Resilient…those blades are. Even after being knocked down, they stand back up. After being stepped on, they rise back tall. The sun peeks in and out from behind the thick clouds causing the area to brighten and dim.
“Should I tell him you’re not in the mood?” April asks amusingly, glancing behind me.
“What?” I turn and follow her eyes to Trenton walking toward us. Instead of groaning because company is the last damn thing I want or rolling my eyes in protest…I smile.
“Hey,” Trenton grins. “How are you ladies?”
“Hopefully better now that you’re here,” April states and I cringe.
He looks between us perplexed but laughs it off. “Glad to be of assistance. But per my students, I’m a downer. I gave them a pop quiz.”
“Oh, you’re mean,” April facetiously breathes out. “You’re a monster.” Her award-winning act causes me to giggle, and she reaches out and smacks my arm. “Not only does she smile, she laughs too.”
This time I roll my eyes.
Trenton drops beside us on the bleachers and it may be my splendid bubbly mood but his relaxed demeanor pisses me off.
“Were you intentionally trying to be a dickhead to Brian or are you just that much of an asshole?” I snap.
The corner of his lips tick, but they never raise into a smile. His expression remains stoic. “I wasn’t being a dickhead.” And his tone sounds casual.
I narrow my eyes. “Really? ‘Cause that’s not how I perceived it.”
“Riley…” April quietly tries scolding me but I ignore it.
He looks to her and then back to me. “Maybe you read into it wrong?”
I shake my head. “I’m not stupid.”
“Didn’t say you were,” he states.
“Brian reamed her a new ass,” April says.
I jerk my head to her. “What business is it of yours?”
She shakes her foot, leaning back in the chair victoriously.
“Really?” Trenton asks with concern. “What’d he say?”
I snap back to him. “I wasn’t the only one thinking you were being a smartass.”
He spreads his hands. “I’ll watch my mouth next time. I’m sorry.” But by his tone, he isn’t sorry. He’s pleased.
I shove my palms into my forehead. “I’m so ready for today to be over.”
“I’m going to head off. Let you simmer down,” Trenton says. I catch the ass end of an expression he shares wit
h April, but his smile was sexy and knowing.
“What the fuck was that?” April scolds.
I don’t answer.
“What’s wrong with you today? Brian on a rampage again?”
I sigh. “What was that look between you and Trenton?”
An innocent cockiness launches across her smirk. “Panty bursting. He knew exactly what he was doing. He’s dangerous in a sexy as hell way.”
“I swear he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?” she ponders.
I drop my hands into my lap frustrated. “The looks. The pop ups. The way he says shit. All of it.”
“What if that is just him? What if that is his personality? You’re not giving the man a break.”
I look at her coldly. “Does it help to pretend you don’t see anything?”
“You need a stiff fucking drink today,” she bites. “This is ridiculous.”
“I love you. Just let me stew in peace,” I say with my view on my knees.
“Not a problem. I’m here if you need me.”
I don’t speak to her again until we say our goodbyes, and mine comes with an apology. She kisses my cheek and gifts me an accepting smile, but she doesn’t say anything else. That’s the wondrous thing about our friendship—we get each other. I’m having an off day and she understands it.
It’s after ten when Brian walks through the door and heads straight to the shower without even acknowledging me. Promptly, my blood boils and I barge into the bathroom.
“Hi, honey. How was your day?” I snap sardonically.
He pulls his head out of the spray and wipes the water from his eyes. “Good. Yours?”
“Good.”
He tucks his head back behind the glass shower door and I watch him lather the soap and begin washing himself. “What’s for dinner?”
“Cold remnants in the microwave,” I clip.
I hear his long exhale. “What’s wrong?”
I roll my eyes and without a hint of their grand appearance, tears begin to well. Embarrassed by my weakness, I rush out and cry.
By the time he comes out of the bathroom, I’ve calmed down and am sitting on the side of my bed staring at the lines in the hardwood floors.