The Player Next Door: A Novel

by K. A. Tucker

  “There is nothing sexy about this,” I murmur, even as my hand finds its way between us to stroke him beneath the water.

  “No, this definitely wasn’t built for two people,” he agrees. “Next time you want a bath, have one at my house.”

  “Just show up with my bath caddy?” The tub in his master bath is new and spacious, and it has jets. It would be far nicer.

  He presses a kiss against my throat. “Or just leave your fancy bath stuff there. I’ll give you the code.”

  “Well, that’s good, seeing as you keep inviting yourself into my house with the spare key.”

  His deep chuckle vibrates through my body. “I didn’t think you’d care. I brought food.”

  “You did.” But are we officially crossing into this territory? The land of exchanging keys and door codes and keeping toiletries at each other’s houses instead of trekking across the lawn?

  He dips his head to catch my breast in his mouth.

  A tremble courses through me. “Will my baths be peaceful or will you bother me over there too?” I ask, attempting a calm voice.

  “Is that what I’m doing?” He rolls his tongue around my nipple.

  I close my eyes and tilt my head back to give him better access while I blindly run my palm along his shaft, reveling in his size. “Yes. And it’s extremely annoying.”

  “You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever met.”

  I bellow with laughter at the sarcastic gibe.

  With a playful nip of his teeth, he hooks his arms beneath mine and hauls my body farther onto his lap. His tip prods against my entrance. The thought of needing a condom sparks in my mind but just as quickly disappears. We’ve already had the “Are you clean?” and “Are you on birth control?” conversations. We just haven’t taken that next step yet.

  “I was so afraid you would bail on me.” His lips caress mine in soft strokes, his voice suddenly serious.

  I swallow. “Same.”

  He flattens his palms over my slick back and guides me closer until our entire upper bodies are flush. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Even if this is getting complicated?”

  “The more complicated, the better.” He lifts his hips, slowly pushing into me.

  A moan slips out as my body molds around him, welcoming the intrusion. Oddly enough, nothing about us feels complicated in this moment. It’s all straightforward and right. It feels like it was all meant to happen this way, like fate had this twisted path to take us on to get here but always knew we’d find ourselves in my dingy bathtub years later, our limbs and hearts and breaths tangled.

  “You want me to pull out before?” he whispers, his eyes hooded and blazing with lust as he waits for my answer.

  I shake my head.

  Gripping the back of my head, he brings my lips to his in a kiss that consumes all of my worries.

  Twenty-Six

  Karen and Heidi are huddled by the coffee maker when I pop in to the staff room during morning recess. Their conversation quiets instantly and, when they turn to see me standing there, Karen’s eyes widen as if startled.

  “So, what are the kids into these days?” Heidi asks, as if carrying on their previous conversation.

  A prickle of recognition slithers down my spine as Karen nervously prattles about soccer and baseball and piano lessons. I head for the fridge to grab my yogurt from my lunch bag, aware that they were talking about me.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve gotten to know the teaching staff over the past two and a half months. Of everyone at Polson Falls Elementary, these two are the likeliest to gossip. Besides Becca, of course, but I trust that our conversations remain between us.

  Karen has two overscheduled children and a husband who travels for work more than he’s home. I’m pretty sure she belongs to every mommy group in Polson Falls. Meanwhile, Heidi is single and alone and spends her hours outside of school as a social justice warrior, sharing news links on Facebook and angry-tweeting politicians and corporations.

  Nothing happens in this school without them hearing about it.

  The question is, who’s been talking?

  Did Penelope decide to go to the school board after all? It’s been almost a week since her meeting with Wendy. Did poor Cody make the disastrous mistake of mentioning my name in a positive light again?

  With a sigh, I slide out my phone, intent on texting Shane. As much as I don’t want Penelope to be a daily subject for us, I also don’t want any more surprises.

  “What are your plans for this weekend, Scarlet?” Heidi asks suddenly, feigning a blank, innocent look. Of the two of them, she’s more likely to pass judgment on my relationship with Shane. That’s probably why my guard is instantly up with her.

  “Housework.” In between several rounds of sweaty sex with my student’s hot dad, since I know that’s what you’re really asking. In truth, there won’t be much of that this weekend, seeing as Cody is with us tonight and Shane leaves for work tomorrow, until Sunday.

  “That’s right! Didn’t you buy that cute little blue house with the picket fence down the street?” Karen asks, pointing in the opposite direction of where my house is.

  I don’t bother to correct her. “I did. It needs a lot of work, but I’ll slowly get to it all.” Where is everyone, anyway? The staff room usually has five or six bodies in it at any given time during recess.

  They exchange glances. Heidi looks like she’s chewing on bees, the way she’s worrying her mouth. “How are your neighbors?”

  I’ve only met the neighbors to my right once. They’re a pleasant but busy young family, with three kids under five and a lot of high-pitched screaming in the early hours.

  I’m guessing Heidi isn’t asking about them, though.

  “Are you going to beat around the bush all day or ask your prying question?” Bott’s reedy voice cuts into the staff room. I hadn’t heard her come in, but that’s par for the course for a woman who seems to materialize out of thin air like a mythical beast from the underworld. She floats toward the fridge as if she didn’t just call out her colleague for being intrusive. Even on below-fifty-degree November days, she still wears her Birkenstocks.

  Heidi exchanges another quick glance with her sleuthing partner. “We heard you’re dating Cody Rhodes’s father.”

  “Hmm.” I feign casualness as I peel the foil off my yogurt, not giving an answer one way or another. Inside, a mixture of resignation and dread swirls. I truly despise being the topic of conversation.

  “He’s very attractive.” Karen nods vigorously—it reminds me of a bobblehead figurine. She’s not the confrontational type. More likely, she’ll smile and agree to your face and then express empty outrage when you turn around.

  “He always has been,” Bott answers for me, drifting over to the table with a cloth lunch bag. “Even as a boy, there was something appealing about him.”

  From any other grown woman, that might teeter on creepy and inappropriate, but coming from Bott, it sounds merely like fact.

  “He’s a firefighter, right?” Karen asks.

  “Are you not at all worried about the awkward position you’ve put your student in?” Heidi blurts, cutting into Karen’s chatty questions.

  I wondered who among my fellow teachers might take offense to me dating Shane. It seems I can make a tick in the box beside Heidi’s name.

  My cheeks burn with indignation as I open my mouth to defend myself.

  “Were you not at all worried three years ago when Cody Rhodes was your student and you bid on his father at that ridiculous auction?” Bott asks mildly.

  My eyebrows arch with surprise, trying to picture the righteous Heidi waving her paddle in the air, bidding on Shane as if he were a prize bull.

  “That’s totally different!” Heidi blusters, her face turning beet red. “And I didn’t win. And that was for charity!”

  “Hmm. Yes, for charity.” That secretive little smirk emerges on Bott’s mouth as she pries open her food container.

  H
eidi collects her water bottle and an apple and, lifting her chin high as if she weren’t just made a fool of, strolls out, Karen on her heels.

  It’s just Bott and me in the room now, and I’m feeling oddly appreciative of her.

  “Thank you for defending me,” I offer.

  “I wasn’t defending you. I was merely pointing out the obvious.” She stabs at the contents in the container—something flesh-pink, gelatinous, and smelling strongly of vinegar and chemicals.

  I struggle not to cringe. “Still. Thanks.” No longer hungry, I rinse the last of my yogurt down the sink and toss the empty container in the recycling bin.

  “I’m sorry for what I did to you when you were my student.”

  I turn to find Bott staring ahead and chewing, a serene expression on her face. For a moment, I question if I imagined her apology, if she didn’t just address the twenty-one-year-old elephant in the room.

  “So, you understand that what you did was wrong?”

  She swallows her mouthful. “I always knew it was wrong.”

  I frown. This sounds more like a non-apology.

  “I was angry and desperate, and more concerned about my child being hurt by her father than I was about acting inappropriately. I knew what I was doing. I made a choice. We all make choices.”

  “I could have reported you. You could have lost your job.”

  “Yes, I could have. I knew there was a risk.” She turns that hawkish gaze on me. “You’re infatuated with a man and more concerned about finding love than you are about protecting his child’s happiness. You also know what you’re doing and the risks, and you’ve made your choice.”

  Any goodwill I felt toward Bott for fending off Heidi evaporates. “This is not the same at all,” I retort angrily. “I’m not abusing my power. I’m not cornering Cody in a room, showing him pictures of my husband and scaring him. I’m not going to hurt him.”

  “You hope not,” she says coolly.

  The bell to end recess will go off in ten minutes. I’d rather spend that time anywhere but in here, being scolded by a woman who is far from worthy of doling out advice on integrity.

  I move for the door.

  “Your mother was attracted to married men because she craved how it felt to win them over. To make them break their commitments.”

  I could argue that those men weren’t very committed in the first place, but that would sound like I’m defending my mother’s actions, so I stay silent.

  “She was more concerned about her own happiness than she was about her child’s.”

  I know what Bott is getting at, but she’s wrong. “I’m not my mother.”

  “But what choice will you make? What choice will he make? Time will tell.”

  Bott said that same thing the first day I saw her here. It’s as irritating now as it was then.

  I watch her as she stabs at a hard, fleshy chunk and holds it up, pondering it.

  I can’t help my cringe this time. “What the hell are you eating? It looks like a fetus.”

  “Pickled pigs’ feet. Would you like to try some?” she says in that eerie monotone of hers, unperturbed.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m good, thanks.” Does she go out of her way to shock people?

  I rush out of there and back to my classroom.

  But Bott’s words trail me the entire way.

  “Mild or spicy tonight, sir?” The waitress grins with familiarity at Cody.

  “Spicy, please.” Cody takes a long slurp of his Coke.

  Shane wasn’t kidding when he said the kid is a picky eater. Apparently, chicken wings are the only thing he’ll eat when they go out. The staff had him pegged the second he walked in.

  “That sounds good. I’ll do the same. And fries.” Shane closes his menu and passes it to the blond bombshell with nothing more than a polite glance. Meanwhile, I’m ready to pass her a napkin so she can dab at her drool.

  With our orders taken, she leaves us, swinging her hips all the way to the computer.

  Shane frowns curiously at me. “What’s that smile for?”

  “Nothing.” Just wondering how a woman as jealous as Penelope wasn’t arrested for clawing out eyes on the regular. My gaze wanders through the bustling dining area of Route Sixty-Six. It’s seven o’clock, still a few hours before the late-night crowd rolls in and the discounted shots begin flowing. The band hasn’t even arrived to set up yet. At this time of day, it’s families who bring life to the restaurant.

  And to anyone unaware, Shane, Cody, and I look like a happy little family. I’m guessing Penelope would lose her shit if she walked in and saw us.

  When Shane suggested that the three of us go out to eat, I balked. “Are you sure?” I asked. “What if someone sees us?”

  “So what? It’s not a big deal. Let them see us,” he said, scooping up my hand and pressing my knuckles to his lips.

  My knees weakened, and everything else—the episode in the staff room, Bott’s words, our commitment to keep this quiet while I’m Cody’s teacher—was forgotten.

  But now that we’re here, I’m afraid that was a mistake.

  “Hi, Ms. Reed,” Jenny Byrd chirps, stopping at our table, her hand flapping in a quick wave. Her stunning sea-foam green eyes shift to her classmate. “Hey, Cody.”

  He brushes his hair off his forehead and gives her a dimpled smile. “Hey.”

  Her gaze flips from me to Cody, to Shane, and I can practically hear the curious questions that churn in her young but astute brain. Before she has a chance to voice any of them, though, her parents usher her past with an apology for interrupting and a “have a good weekend.”

  Shane gives him a gentle elbow. “Who’s that?”

  “Jenny. Just a girl in my class.” Cody’s cheeks flush.

  “She’s cute,” he says nonchalantly before taking a big sip of his drink.

  Cody gives a one-shouldered shrug but then his eyes flip to the corner where Jenny Byrd and her family are seated.

  Shane smirks as he watches his son. He’s fishing. He wants to know if his son has any crushes yet.

  And I’m too busy watching Shane watch his son to notice the platinum-blond woman flounce up to our table until it’s too late.

  “Well now, what is my daughter doing with these two strapping young men?”

  Oh God, Mom.

  My cheeks flame as I try to ignore the fact that she’s dressed in a snug, snakeskin-print dress and impeccably matched heels that are so high, her muscles strain for balance. She’s literally turning heads all around us. “What are you doing here?” McTavish’s is more her style this early in the night, where there aren’t any children around.

  “I felt like a change of scenery. Hello, darling. Fancy meeting you here.” She smooths a hand over Shane’s shoulder while batting her freshly installed eyelashes. They look good on her, I’ll give her that. But her perfume is as cloying as ever.

  Shane flashes his signature crooked smirk. “Hey, Dottie. How’ve you been?”

  “I’m much better now.”

  I roll my eyes. The cheesy lines are always a variant of the same thing.

  Much better now.

  Better now that you’re here.

  The night’s looking up now.

  I’ve been so far removed from her for so many years, I’d forgotten how tacky she can be.

  From beneath the table, Shane gives my calf a gentle nudge of warning. Behave, his eyes warn.

  Mom shifts her flirtatious gaze. “And who is this handsome young man beside you?”

  Shane throws an arm around Cody’s shoulders. “This is my son.”

  Dottie’s perfectly drawn lips gape. She does shock and awe better than most. “Why did I not know you had a son!”

  Because you barely remember you have a daughter.

  Cody’s curious eyes flash from her to me, back to her.

  “I know, I don’t look nearly old enough to be her mother, do I?” she mock whispers.

  Cody shakes his head. “You look more like sis
ters.”

  Shane chuckles.

  And my mother, well, she fucking titters and preens. “Aren’t you just as charming as your father.”

  Our waitress comes by then. “Hey, Dottie. Can I grab you something?”

  “Hi, honey. Oh, I’ll probably just head on over to the bar in a minute. I wouldn’t want to interrupt Scarlet’s dinner.” She says this as she observes the empty space beside me.

  Shane gives my leg another nudge, followed by a “you know what you need to do” look.

  The glare I spear him with would make most men’s balls shrink, but Shane grins at me. Because he’s right and we both know it.

  I release a resigned sigh. “Did you want to sit with us?”

  She gives the booth another eyeball. “Well, I suppose I could, for just a minute or two. Scoot on over.” To the waitress, she winks and says, “A glass of chardonnay would be lovely.”

  “I was barely older than you when I had Scarlet.”

  “She was five years older,” I counter, giving Cody a severe look as he gnaws on a chicken wing. “And still way too young to have children.”

  “But you turned out okay,” Mom says through a generous sip of her wine.

  “That’s debatable,” I mutter under my breath, earning Shane’s chuckle.

  “You did, honey. Maybe a bit uptight but otherwise fine.”

  Uptight? My nostrils flare.

  “So, Dottie, you still over on Brillcourt?” Shane interrupts, trying to defuse my impending explosion.

  “I am! How’d you know I lived there?” Her eyes narrow. “You haven’t visited me before, have you?”

  “No. He hasn’t,” I say more sharply than probably is necessary. At least she was considerate enough to not come right out in front of Cody and asked if they’ve fucked.

  “I was going to say …” Her eyes rake over Shane’s face, his chest, his arms. “I can’t see myself forgetting a night like that.”

  “You definitely wouldn’t.” Shane winks. He’s flirting with my mother.

  I glare at him, a warning that if he keeps this up, I’ll throttle him later.