Unscrewed

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Unscrewed Page 10

by Ren Alexander


  I shrug, still watching the other team while her fingernails scratch into my T-shirt. My stomach tightens, which is unexpected as hell. “If your brother lets me play.”

  Simone releases me but leans against the fence, squinting up at me from underneath her hat’s bill. Her snowy blonde hair is in two low pigtails, and her bright pink lips play up her blue eyes. When they blink back at me, I again focus on the field. “He has to let you play. There’ll be an uprising if he doesn’t.”

  I cock my head, regarding her again, not sure if she’s expecting me to guess or if she’s yanking my dick—she’s done it before. “By who?”

  “Me.” She grins and then rolls her eyes. “We all know you’re good.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  “Am not!”

  “Yeah?” I twist to face her and cross my arms. Her steady observation holds mine. That’s one thing about Simone I’ve come to realize since meeting her. She doesn’t cave, being surer of herself than anyone I know. “What about the shit you told Morgan on New Year’s Eve when she saw us together at the diner? You made her believe...” I stop because people are walking around us and sitting in the stands. I’m not sure how to word what I want to say without being overheard. I mean, as a father now, I should try to watch what I say around kids. I pivot some, moving closer to Simone and try again. “She thought we were...”

  Simone grins with her hands on her hips while angling a blonde eyebrow that is slightly darker than her hair. I offhandedly wonder if all her drapes match the carpet. “Fucking?”

  I laugh because she apparently found the balls I used to have. “Uh, yeah. That.”

  She pokes my chest. “I saved your ass, boy! You still haven’t returned the favor.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Bow down and kiss your ass?”

  “You should be so honored.” She raises her chin to new heights in an attempt to appear pissed off.

  I laugh, turning to the field. “Shit. You’re a handful, Garrison.”

  “I am.”

  Simone giggles and I meet her blue-eyed gaze only to roll my eyes. Two seconds later, the emperor and his entourage finally arrive, along with four people I’ve never seen before, carrying camera equipment. Wilder had told us a while ago he was bringing his news crew to shoot footage during the last game. Looking at the crowd, I now realize why it’s bigger than usual. Naturally, they’re here for Richmond’s most infamous sportscaster. His Friday sports show highlights the depth of his stupidity, which he calls dares. Daring him to coach our team underscores the magnitude of my own stupidity.

  I say, “Looks like Mr. Showtime is here.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Ignoring Wilder, Simone gawks at Ricky as he removes his Legal Eagles hat and combs his fingers through the black mop on his head. Chomping on his gum, he grins at Sylvie, who looks as if she’s about to spread her legs in worship of the bronzed god. I wouldn’t doubt she’s fucking him too. From what Hadley told me, Ricky has gone off the rails since his divorce and has reverted to his manwhore ways. Too bad he’s fugly.

  I reach over and using my index finger, tip Simone’s chin back up. When she returns a questioning glance, I say, “You’re drooling.”

  “What?” She jerks her chin away while subtly wiping it, which makes me laugh.

  I nod toward the object of her distraction. “Tesco. You got the hots for him or something?”

  Simone narrows her eyes and sets her jaw into a hard line, watching Sylvie fawning over him. “It seems everyone does.”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t.” When Simone sighs in frustration, I tease, “But I hear Wilder does. It’s a deep-throat kind of love.”

  She laughs but then shakes her head, throwing on a quick, pink-lipped, glossy pout. “Stop making me laugh. I helped you with Morgan that day, but you don’t care. Dick move, Rodwell.”

  I laugh because she’s off her fucking rocker. “And that’s exactly what you grabbed under the table!”

  Simone throws out her hands, bouncing her pigtails. “It was for effect! I was acting!”

  “You were jacking.” And if we weren’t in that situation and she wasn’t Wilder’s sister, it would’ve felt so good.

  She rethinks her fierce expression as her lips twitch. So, I go for more. “And you liked it.”

  Gripping my arm, she leans closer. “Oh, with the tent you pitched, I’d say you liked it.” I couldn’t even help it.

  “I’d give your technique a 5.5.” Total lie.

  Simone smacks my arm, not like how Hadley usually does. This stings. I half whine and half laugh. “What the fuck? That hurt!”

  “Pussy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Totally.”

  I smirk at her audacity. Simone is unlike Hadley in so many ways. “Okay. A 7.0 at best.”

  “Suck my left tit.” She dramatically flips a pigtail, swishing it against my chest, leaving her scent in its wake. I like it.

  I lean over and, on a whim, loudly pant against her neck. Damn. She smells good from this angle too. Like cinnamon. My breath blows over her skin, and I hear her breathing choke. I whisper, “Keep talking about pussy and tits, Garrison. You’re giving me a stiffy. Please. Just try to restrain yourself this time.”

  She laughs, shoving me with strength I’m not used to, and I stumble back some, laughing with her. When I’m next to Simone again, she grins up at me and lowers her voice. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a real pussy, Greg Rodwell, contrary to your recent events with that skank.”

  “You going to school me, then? I’ll be your star pupil.”

  Simone doesn’t respond because she obviously doesn’t know how. Rookie.

  Satisfied that I just owned her, I lean back against the fence, putting my elbows on it. Seconds later, Simone is suddenly in my face, surprising the fuck out of me. She trails her hot-pink fingernails down my chest, all the way to my belt buckle and coolly whispers, “I’d destroy you for any other woman. Total annihilation. I’m a thirst you can’t quench. My pussy would consume you like a violent inferno. I’d exhaust you, but you’d still beg for just one more fuck.” She hooks her finger into my belt buckle, tugging at it. Caught off guard, I nearly fall over. I know she’s joking. But goddamn. Why did that turn me on faster than a Clapper?

  Leaving me speechless, Simone jumps away and erupts with a loud laugh, drawing attention from most of the team, including her brother and Ricky. Wilder sort of frowns at Simone while Ricky’s bushy eyebrow rises above his sunglasses. He then returns to flirting with Sylvie. Shasta now joins the orgy, frowning at me, but I couldn’t give a shit who she fucks. As long as it ain’t me.

  After several deep breaths, I start to talk, but my voice still squeaks, so I clear my throat to rid my prepubescent memories of sounding like Betty Boop. “By the way, I wasn’t hard.” The hell I wasn’t. And Hadley had nothing to do with it that time.

  “Your junk is always that firm?”

  I smirk. “There you go again, lusting after my dick. Maybe you’re the one who’d need rehab.”

  She glances down at my crotch and then with an odd smile, turns back to Ricky-watching. “You couldn’t handle me.”

  “You know what? I don’t even doubt that shit.”

  I hear a small laugh from her as I try to recover from just having escaped a Simone-induced tornado. I shake my head to clear it, but that’s zero help. With Simone eyeing Tesco, I ask, “Why don’t you ask him out?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You’re not exactly shy. Just do it. You know, since you’re so addictive,” I mock her, which only makes my throat and zipper constrict again. Needing the antidote, I search for Betsy in the crowd to see her fawning over Ricky too. Hard-on averted.

  Groaning, Simone continues to study Tesco in action. “It’s not that. He only sees me as his best friend’s little sister. I’m like off limits.”

  “So you’re okay with drooling over him from afar?”

  She shrugs, still watching him. “I don’t see Rick
y changing his mind about me.”

  “Have you tried?” What she sees in that dickwad, I’ll never know. He’s just as cocky as Wilder.

  Simone doesn’t answer, so I let it go and instead, look over my shoulder to see the Road Hogs coming in off the field, marking our turn to practice before starting the game. A quick scan of the area within the dugout and the immediate area around me shows that nearly everyone is here. I just don’t see one person. But when Grant moves, Hadley, who was standing next to Val, smiles over at us. I smirk and can’t help it when my heart bangs more brutally than a tone-deaf garage band drummer. Behind her, Wilder pulls Grant aside.

  Even Simone asks, “Why’s Finn talking to Grant one-on-one? He never does. He thinks he’s a tool.”

  “Hopefully, he’s telling Grant he can’t play because he sucks more ass than the tail-end of a human centipede.”

  “Oh, my God!” Simone squeals, bending forward, laughing. Her pigtails sweep against the ground. She then grabs my arm, yipping, “That’s twisted and perfect!”

  “Shut the hell up, Garrison.” I try not to, but her damn laughter makes me laugh with her.

  “What’s so funny over here?” Hadley stops in front of us, grinning. “I want in.”

  Clinging to my arm, Simone and I both suddenly sober and reply in tandem, “Nothing.”

  Hadley frowns and I clarify, “It involves our coach.”

  “So?” Hadley’s green eyes go from Simone to me, confused and amused.

  I say, “Well, you’re screwing him, so...” Watching what I say has been an epic fail so far.

  Hadley’s mouth turns into a tunnel, and I look to Simone to distract myself, but that doesn’t help since she’s sporting the same look. I ask them, “Just a rumor?”

  Simone snorts, and Hadley says, “Wow. Uh, I...”

  Simone nods, tapping her fist against my inner bicep. “You can tell they boned last night or this morning. Am I right?”

  Hadley’s face reddens, and she bites her lip. “I’m not telling you that.”

  Giggling, Simone says, “Yep. You absolutely did naughty things to my brother. Before you know it, he’s going to have you preggers again, the way he’s always on you.”

  Now would be a good time for Val—or anyone—to take a bat to my fucking skull.

  Casting Grant aside, Wilder yells, “Simone!” He summons her, indicating she’s next in line for a beheading.

  “Tell your sperm donor to be nice, Hadley.” She giggles and walks the plank to her brother. I know she’s watching Ricky, but watching her go isn’t such a bad thing either. When she reaches Wilder, he motions to the camera, which is being set up. I guess he found his first interview victim.

  Taking Simone’s place beside me, Hadley intertwines her fingers into the chain link, and I slide my hands into my pockets. I look at the stands, still not seeing any babies. Striving for casual, I ask, “Where’s the kid?”

  “Daycare. They have a Saturday program. It’s expensive, but it’s hot here, and I can’t watch her. She’ll be at the party tonight for a little bit, though.” I nod with a strong desire to see her now. Hadley asks, “What’s with you and Simone?”

  “Just teasing you. Why? Did it hit too close to home?”

  “What do you mean?” Hadley puts her other hand on my chest, picking at lint or the Butterfinger I ate earlier. Her touch seers through my shirt. I wonder if she can feel my jackhammering heart. I wish I could touch her like this, but I doubt Hadley or her husband would appreciate me fondling her knockers. I don’t think Wilder knows about the time Hadley had me cop a feel on the dance floor to convince Morgan we were dating. And today, I have to limit touching her in front of a crowd and cameras. If I piss off Wilder too much, a riot might ensue. Most people would tend to take a star sports anchor’s side over a nobody paralegal.

  I check to see if he’s even looking this way, but he’s not since he’s obviously irritating his sister, with Simone crossing her arms and angrily snapping back at him. That might make me like her slightly more.

  In any case, between Hadley and Simone today, I’ll never be short of a reminder that blue balls are fucking real.

  I don’t explain myself, and Hadley whispers, “Rod, are you asking if I slept with my husband?”

  I shrug, feeling seasick, not wanting to watch her black fingernails on me. Or her wedding ring. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

  “It’s not, but it’s not something I advertise.”

  “But he does.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Hadley drops her hand, frowning, maybe doubting the faith she has in him. “Why? What did he say?”

  “It’s not always the things he says.” I nod in his direction, and Hadley looks, not that she has to. “It’s just obvious.”

  She turns back to me. “Why are we talking about this?”

  Irritated, I cross my arms and see Nico in the dugout watching us. He’s no idiot. I know he suspects something and wants me to tell him. Even though we’ve become friends, I just can’t. There’s nothing to tell him. And then there’s too much shit to tell him. Why the hell do I want to torture myself more? “You think I want to know that you had sex with him?”

  “You don’t even need to know, Greg.” She calls me that when she wants me to be serious. That reason annoys me because I’m not a toy. Sometimes I just don’t feel like doing a song and dance to seek her approval. I’m not Finn Wilder for fuck’s sake.

  “The only thing I want to know is if what Simone said is possible. Are you and Wilder trying for another already?”

  Hadley looks to the field as I’m forced to imagine his hands all over her as she opens up for him the way she wouldn’t for me. Jesus Christ. There are times it hurts so much.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” I seethe, stepping away from her to the other chain link behind home plate, but she follows me.

  Hadley is quieter, despite the loud shuffling around us for softballs and gloves. “Why would you think that? And why would it matter to you?” Because, Hadley, I accidentally shot a massive cum load all over your pussy. I’m pretty sure your pregnancy was my fault.

  But like all the other lies I have to juggle, I can never tell her we may have a baby together. It’s not something she’d be happy about, even if I’m her best friend. Hadley only ever wanted Wilder’s kid, and I may have ruined that for her. If Hadley knew the truth, would she love our kid any less, kind of like my situation with Birdy being Shasta’s?

  Yeah. I don’t want to know the answer. But I either tell Hadley nothing, keeping her in my life. Or I tell her everything and lose her, reverting to the original, blaring pain.

  Either way, it’s fucking torture.

  CHAPTER 7

  At the moment, I can’t look her in the eye, so I watch the game at the next field as I answer, “It’s because I care about you.” If she believes that much. Eyes, ears, and cameras surround us. I don’t care, but since it’s not all about me, I whisper over my shoulder, “You need surgery or have you forgotten?” My hands clench against my ribs. I want to grab her shoulders and make her look at me—or make me face her since I’m a pussy like Simone said.

  As I hear Wilder yelling for us to take the field for practice, I reluctantly turn away from the game to face Hadley. “I didn’t forget,” she hisses back, glancing around us. I do the same, and Val catches my attention. Her concern is noticeable, and I wonder which side of Amos’ assertion she gravitates. Does Val think Hadley is cheating on Wilder with me? I can’t imagine she really believes that.

  I say, “It shouldn’t have happened the first time.” In retrospect, this possibly could’ve been avoided if I had just ignored Hadley’s non-existent feelings for me and fucked her anyway with the condom I had in my wallet, instead of blowing a load between her legs while she slept.

  “But I don’t regret my daughter, so stop lecturing me.” Yeah. On the other hand, I’m torn because I sort of don’t regret it either. I only regret the method of conception. I even had joked with Hadl
ey about Finley being mine because we had slept in the same bed around the time she believes Wilder knocked her up. Little did she know... Just another warped story of my life. “Finn and I will worry about it.”

  A substantial arm lands on my shoulders, lurching me forward while my glove slams into my chest. Amos asks, “What the hell do I have to say to make it sink in?”

  “I’m not doing anything.” I take the glove before it falls, but he still won’t let go of me.

  “You’re staying away from her today. Do you understand?” Underneath his team hat, he’s wearing a tie-dyed bandana, which is fifty shades of stupid.

  “What the fuck is the big deal? We were talking.” I’m freer with my mouth outside the office. Even Vaughn isn’t immune. I try to move away from him, but the fucker is strong.

  He drags me past third base, away from everyone else. Releasing me, Amos says, “I heard Finn talking.”

  “So what? He’s our coach, Amos. Surprise. And I hear more than my share of his voice. Don’t—”

  “He doesn’t like you.”

  I laugh. “No shit!”

  Amos throws the ball upward and catches it, repeating this several times, making it look like he’s practicing pop-ups. “And I heard him questioning Simone about what you were talking about.”

  “So? Despite outward appearances, he’s massively insecure.”

  “I’m only telling you what he thinks because he may be close to discovering the truth.”

  “Which truth is that since there apparently are so many lies?”

  Amos checks the area for eavesdroppers and moves closer to me, which I frown at him for being dramatic. “That you and Hadley are...sleeping together.”

  I still don’t know which road to take on this one with Amos. As I decide, I ask, “I thought you didn’t listen to gossip?”

  “It was about you, Rod. I told you, word is getting around and—”

  “I don’t care.” I laugh because it’s just stupid. “I don’t. I told you that.”

 

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