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

by Jamie Knight

  “Right.”

  “Unless—?”

  “No unless.”

  “Unless you have latent feelings. Like I always suspect and say that you do.”

  She raised her arm to call over the greasy, moustache laden waiter and exclaimed loudly for all to hear, “Muchos gracias, sir. Two more, por favor, and a plate of nachos. We are celebrating lost loves and growing pains.”

  I sunk into my chair.

  She had me.

  I could never lie to Roxanne, but God if I wasn’t going to continue the façade for at least one more night.

  The waiter smiled and shot me a weird I’m-undressing-you-with-my-eyes kind of smirk. I grimaced.

  I just wanted him to bring me another drink so I could try to forget that I had to see my ex soon – if he agreed to come in and talk to me about Kylie, that is. But I had a feeling Roxanne wasn’t going to let me forget.

  She was the type to make me face my fears.

  And I knew that was a good thing, even though I didn’t always like it.

  Chapter 13

  Marvin

  It was becoming increasingly apparent that my once thriving football career was nearly over. I looked up at the stands as the rabid Flags fans, some covered in red, white and blue makeup, hissed at me. Some cheered, which was the more appropriate thing to do, anyway, since I was helping their team win.

  I had just thrown two incomplete passes and we were down by two touchdowns in the fourth. I had no fight left in me. I used to be able to turn any game around in minutes. At the last ticking of the clock, I could still pull out a win, but it wasn’t happening now.

  One of the Flags players hit me on the ass as the team took position for the next play. It wasn’t a nice pat on the ass; it was meant to fluster me, but still. I don’t know what happened. I snapped.

  “Fuck you, you fucking wuss. Don’t touch me.”

  And I reached out and sucker slapped him. His helmet, which he was about to put back on, went flying out of his hands. That is how hard I hit him.

  Knowing immediately what I had done, I looked over to the coach, the stands and the referee, all in what seemed liked super slow motion. I knew I was done. And before I knew it, I was walking over to the bench.

  I couldn’t even hear the coach calling me every A, B, C, D and F word he could muster. I just knew I blew it.

  Our second team quarterback was injured so we would have to put in the rookie, Josiah Washington. We were finished. My fucking temper would lose the game.

  I went numb. I could feel all the anger welling up in me. I wasn’t feeling accountable, not remorseful, nor reflective. I was plain mad. Just mad like a high school kid who no one can tell any different.

  Sandra, my step mom, looked over at me from the stands and smiled as she blew me a kiss. Even though Sandra was usually very nice and supportive, it felt disingenuous.

  My dad, who was also in the stands – he never missed most games, even the ones that were out of town, and even though we never got along, or maybe because of that fact – shot me a look. It wasn’t disingenuous. It was genuine.

  It was I am your dad, David Ward, and I am a prick as usual. I am your prick father and you are a disappointment – the same look I always got even playing for big money. Even with my storied and illustrious football career, I never achieved the veritable “dad” pat on the back. It was always never good enough.

  I put my head in my heads and bent over my knees. Whether it made me angry or I felt betrayed or I wanted to lash out at everyone who had warned me that football was a young man’s sport, today was not the day to face any of it.

  Next thing I knew, I had been sent off the field for abusing a player, which wasn’t surprising in the slightest. My coach was screaming at me about my attitude getting out of hand or something I had heard for years. I didn’t pay attention. I blocked it all out. My mind was not in this game.

  Afterward, I called to check on Kylie and her nanny, Sasha, had something to say, of course. She always did.

  At times like this, I really missed Olivia. She knew that sometimes after games I just had to be quiet and be allowed to stew. I had always been good at understanding when I needed that.

  “Marvin, you know,” Sasha said, “it’s not your game that’s the issue. Your life is the issue. It’s fucking with your game.”

  “Yeah, you think? I don’t want to talk about the game right now. I just called to see how Kylie is doing and then I want to be quiet for a bit.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes, even though I knew that Sasha couldn’t see them on the phone. She was very temperamental and opinionated. But I tried hard not to get agitated around her, because she was the only person I could find – despite offering a lot of money – to stick around and nanny Kylie. Most other nannies found her too difficult to deal with.

  “Marvin, come on. This is important. This involves Kylie, too.”

  “What? What do you want me to do? Jesus, I just had a terrible game. Can’t we drop it? I don’t want to talk about football right now.”

  “Marvin, Kylie has you spinning. Your head isn’t in the game. The problems are with her and with Candy — Are you willing to throw away your whole career? Your daughter clearly wants to be with her mother, and her mother has filed to re-open the court case, and the judge seems to be favoring her, so, it’s time to think about maybe letting Kylie go to her mother’s so that everyone will be happier and you can concentrate on the game.”

  I never knew what was up with Sasha. She often reminded me of the current status of the custody case.

  I wasn’t sure if she truly wanted what was best for Kylie – who I knew did bring up her mom often, but she was six and didn’t necessarily know what was best for her – or if she wanted to be done with the nannying job – which I knew couldn’t always be easy, even if she did need the money – or if there was something more sinister underlying this whole thing.

  Sometimes it was as if she wanted to turn my football career around and get credit for it. And, I knew she wanted me – she had made that clear on past occasions when she had come onto me, but I hadn’t given in. But maybe that was also because of some twisted plan to help a football player get back on track, and claim all the credit and glory.

  “Oh, come on. Kylie is not the reason I’m throwing shit passes.”

  “Candy and Kylie – it is. Marvin, I know you love Kylie, but she needs to be with her mom, and you need to focus on your game. That’s my opinion, anyway.”

  Yeah, and no one asked you for your opinion, I wanted to say.

  I couldn’t believe she was being so blunt. I didn’t know what had gotten into her lately. She really should think of Kylie over herself.

  I wished I could be a better father for Kylie and I wished I didn’t even need a nanny. But it was too hard, with my football career and being gone for away games all the time. And I had never managed to settle down with a good woman to be Kylie’s step mom.

  Sure, for a long time I wanted the good wife, the romance, maybe a mother type figure for Kylie. Like Olivia maybe could have been. Even though if we hadn’t broken up, I wouldn’t be needing her right now.

  I didn’t allow myself to think about that any further. It was too fucking painful. I didn’t usually think that I should be more like my dad, but right now I was thinking I needed to be more thick skinned and get over stuff, like he had always been able to do.

  “Is Kylie there?” I finally asked Sasha, not wanting to talk to her any further. “Put her on the line so I can say hi.”

  “She’s sleeping,” Sasha said. “But she’s doing fine. I gave her chicken nuggets and apple juice before she went down.”

  “Thanks,” I told her, grateful that she always took care of Kylie, even if she was turning more and more batshit crazy when it came to me. “I’ll see her when I get back, then. Have a good night.”

  “But Marvin, you really should give some thought to—”

  I hung up on her, before I had to hear her whole u
nsolicited opinion all over again. It was the last thing I needed, after playing such a shitty game. Today had been bad enough.

  Chapter 14

  Marvin

  Later, I relaxed in my hotel robe, with a glass of scotch. My season was finished, I felt, or close to it. I would ride out the contract for as long as possible, but I knew I was going to be up for sale.

  This sucked – plain and simple. Football was all I had ever known.

  And somehow, I thought that when this day came, I would be thirty-five and ready. Ready with a plan, well into another project, career or hobby and I’d retire my jersey while I was still on top, crying as the crowd sent me off reluctantly.

  This, this was not that. I was going down in a sinking boat. It didn’t matter how many years I’d given my life to football, I wasn’t valued any more. People were sick of my antics on and off the field – I was failing.

  As I sipped on my scotch, I wondered if there was any way to save things. To go out of my football career with a bang, if I had to go out. But maybe I didn’t have to go out.

  Who was I kidding? As usual – no one, I was kidding no one, but my ego was still intact. That had always kind of been the way I functioned.

  Honesty always came second to ego. My ego, my sense of self-importance, had always been the priority. It had worked, had always been my formula for success. But the shell was beginning to crack. I knew it.

  The house I built on so much bravado and talent, it still looked good from the outside, but it was weathering. The house made of popsicle sticks, it wasn’t withstanding the storms as well anymore.

  I took a deep swig of the fine, hundred-year-old scotch in my hand and I turned on an old Western. I thought of how Olivia’s voice did something to me – still. I remembered how sweet she was when I took her virginity and then followed it up with another romp at the Centennial.

  How did I go from dating the sweet, beautiful girl next door to being alone and fucking lonely? These were the thoughts swirling around in my head.

  I should have been thinking about Kylie, but I wasn’t. Something wasn’t right. I knew it.

  Suddenly I was feeling imminent change, which was my least favorite thing. I knew right then that I may not be able to continue ego-first in this game of life – not with some woman I’d be able to find somewhere, not even flying solo. It wasn’t working.

  I had a nagging feeling I was going to have to face some things, but boy I would avoid it at all costs if I could at that moment. I turned up the volume on the TV, put my glass down on the night stand and rolled over.

  It was time to sleep. There was too much on my plate to handle right now.

  ***

  On the way to the airport, the morning after, I met my dad at a local coffee shop. We tended to have coffee after every game.

  I often wondered why. I wasn’t incredibly fond of him and I also wasn’t shy about that fact. But I guess the dysfunction in our relationship, was our relationship, so this was just what we did.

  My dad finished slurping an oversized cappuccino. I had just listened to him ramble on for the entire time it took me to drink a giant iced coffee. All about Sasha and how she was no good for me.

  Well, he was probably right about that, but I wasn’t about to fucking admit it. All about Kylie and how if I was a good man, I would do right by my daughter and stand up for her and make sure she could never see Candy. Well, maybe he was right about that, too, but I often didn’t know what was right when it came to Kylie.

  He went on and on about how sending Kylie to live with Candy would be tantamount to putting her in a room full of abusers. I thought his warnings were a bit on the excessive side, but I tended not to argue with him when I could control it. I had learned long ago to pick and choose my battles.

  Finally, I sighed and let him dig for as long as he could until he came up for air. Eventually, he stopped long enough to look at me and as he exhaled, I seized the moment.

  “Are you done, Dad? Anything else you want to share about how I should live my life and make my decisions?”

  “Look son, I don’t know why you get so defensive. We are talking about your daughter, my granddaughter. This is not about your ego or my ego. It’s about a child. Candy has a major drug problem. Unfortunately, that is who you chose as your life partner—”

  “Now hold on. I didn’t choose Candy as my life partner. We did the deed once and then had a child together. What part of that says life partner, huh?”

  “You chose not to protect yourself when you ‘did the deed with her’, as you so beautifully described the conception of your child with her mother. Nevertheless, when you chose not to protect yourself and she became pregnant, you chose your life partner. She will always be your partner, as she is the mother of your child.”

  “Oh, you know all about life partners, right? Listen, spare me the bullshit because you don’t know from a hill of beans about doing life the right way.”

  I was trying to hurt him. It was deliberate. But it wasn’t necessarily that effective. He wasn’t saying anything for once, though.

  “Are you finished, Dad?” I finally ask him.

  “No, I’m not. As I was saying, as you chose your partner, such is the truth that you also then owe it to your daughter—”

  “Dad, you are not the person to be giving me this speech. And you can drop the preacher tone. Honestly, you set a terrible example for me. You were a cad to Mom. And you for sure wouldn’t win any father or husband of the year awards—”

  “Great. You’re right. So, if you know so much about how I screwed up, why did you not learn from my example? Why are you walking right along in my footsteps?”

  I said nothing in response. I knew when it was time to let the clock run, so I did. I had no intention to talk any more with my father any time soon. But Olivia and I – we had unfinished business. And I intended to resolve it.

  Chapter 15

  Olivia

  I was finishing up a slice of cake I had brought home in a doggie bag from my ultra-enlightening Mexican restaurant hang-out with Roxanne. She had me thinking. And thinking, or the over thinking version for me, always meant comfort food.

  So, bad cake carbs were the only answer. It was either that or consult with my therapist and I was putting her on ice for a moment. I didn’t always like her advice – or maybe I just wasn’t always able to take it. Cake won out again.

  I could hear Roxanne in my mind still. She was saying repeatedly, “unless you still have latent feelings...”

  It was bothering me. I did - I did still have something. I’m not sure what it was though, because truly, I thought Marvin and I were done a long time ago.

  At times, he could be downright despicable, arrogant, petulant, entitled and self-serving… To name the most glaringly obvious of his negative traits.

  But then there was the other thing. Why did I still get butterflies when I spoke to him?

  Ya know, what Liv? That’s lust. Come on, you know the difference.

  I nodded as if there was someone other than me in my head having this conversation. Then I dipped my spoon in a huge chunk of the frosting.

  Just as I was going in for the eat, my cell phone rang. Since I didn’t recognize the number, I answered. Often parents, in a panic, would ignore the rule about only contacting the office directly if there was a pressing concern about their children. They almost always called me on my cell phone.

  And I never had gotten upset about it because they’re parents. They’re supposed to be neurotic. It’s for this reason I give out my cell phone for cases of parent emergencies. Thus, I picked up.

  “Hello.”

  “Is Olivia there?”

  It was rather abnormal for a parent to be calling me by my first name. But some didn’t realize or acknowledge formal rules.

  “Yes, this is Olivia,” I answered. “And this is?”

  “This is David.”

  “David? I’m sorry; David who, please?”

  “David Ward.”<
br />
  “Oh.”

  Geez. Marvin’s dad. They had quite the history. And here he was on the phone with me.

  Why exactly was he calling me?

  “Mr. Ward, sir. Uh, I’m sorry; this is quite a surprise. I, uh – Um, did we have a scheduled call, sir? Are you attending a meeting by-pRoxie regarding Kylie? Uh, in Marvin’s place, sir?”

  I didn’t know why I kept calling him sir. I guess I wanted to remain professional and put some distance between us.

  He answered quite calmly and emphatically after a long pause.

  “No, Olivia. Quite the contrary. I have talked to my son and found out that he and Candy have pledged that they will meet with you and do the right thing. However, I am deeply concerned about my granddaughter and I was wondering if you might help in some way.”

  “Um, sir?”

  “Well, we go way back, you and me. You and my son were deeply in love—”

  “Uh sir, I wouldn’t go that far. I mean. Whatever it was, come on now; it had to be puppy love, at the most.”

  Damn. Why was I protesting against this so much?

  “Anyway. It was in high school. It was a long time ago. We both moved on.”

  “Right – potato, po-tah-to,” he replied. “High school puppy love is where lifetime love can start. I know that because I married my high school sweetheart. Granted, I made some mistakes, which I’m trying to prevent my own son from making. But, anyway, that being said, I know you well from back then, at least, and I need your help.”

  I thought back as he talked.

  What?

  Maybe I remembered hanging out with Mr. Ward two or three times during the entirety of my high school courtship with Marvin. Usually, Marvin and I were trying to avoid him – both to sneak off to have sex and also because Marvin didn’t get along with him.

  Where he was getting, “I knew you well back then” from?