Sidelined

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Sidelined Page 5

by Marquita Valentine


  As soon as I open it, the smell of Layton hits me. I brace myself for the stink that Kingston warned me about, but all I can smell is some flowery stuff that I’ve come to associate with her. Not exactly subtle, but not overpowering either.

  A pillow missile comes out of nowhere, nailing me in the kisser. “I said leave me alone, Kingston,” Layton shouts, her voice slightly gravelly. It’s not a sexy sound because I know she’s been broken by the man who vowed to love her.

  I toss the pillow on the bed. “Get up, baby girl.”

  Layton pops up out of bed, reminding me of groundhog that hasn’t seen its reflection all winter. Which isn’t that far from the truth. Her curly, dark hair is far beyond bedhead status and straight into the rat’s nest my ma claimed hers got when she’d pull a third shift at the factory. But it’s Layton’s eyes that haunt me. They’re dull, flat, and—

  “Why are you here?” She flops onto the bed, pulling the cover over her face. “Go away, Aiden. I don’t have time for your bullcrap.”

  I advance on the bed, yanking the bedspread from her head. Thank fuck, she dressed in an old college t-shirt.

  “Get out of bed, kid.”

  She smirks at me, and I’m half-amused by it because maybe it means she’s only bent instead of broken. “Wasn’t that long ago you wanted me in your bed. Well, Joe cheated, so have at it, lover boy.”

  Shoving the sheet to the end of the bed, she throws her hands out so she resembles a sacrifice on an altar and squeezes her eyes shut.

  I fight back a groan.

  While I got lucky on the shirt, I lost on her lack of pajama bottoms. All she’s wearing is white panties. And while I shouldn’t be turned on by them, the horn dog in me has sat up and taken notice. There’s something about white underwear on a woman that drives a man wild.

  “Thanks for the offer, but you smell like a pig.”

  Her eyes open wide as she gasps. “I do not smell.”

  I lean in close and take an over-exaggerated sniff of her neck.

  Bad move.

  Supremely bad move.

  My body starts to hum like it has just been hooked up to a live wire. “When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?” I ask, inches away from the smooth skin of her neck.

  She slams her hand over her mouth. “My hygiene is none of your concern, and a gentleman wouldn’t ask a lady that.”

  “I’m not a gentleman.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” She rolls away from me, giving me an eyeful of a wedgie that showcases her luscious ass.

  I force myself to stop ogling her. “Stop being a child and grow the fuck up. Your family is worried about you. Paige, too.”

  “You grow up.” She buries her face in the pillow. “Go home, you damn Yankee.”

  “No need to insult me.”

  “It wasn’t an insult. It was a suggestion. A hope... A girl can dream, you know,” she says, all sass now, and I fucking love it. “But in case you didn’t understand me: go the fuck away.”

  “Language, princess.” I smack an ass cheek, and she squeals in anger. It jiggles as my red handprint appears. “Get up.”

  She grabs the nearest pillow, and hits me in the chest with it. “You don’t get to tell me what to do because... how did you say it... my lady parts don’t belong to you.”

  “I said pussy.”

  Layton rolls her eyes. “You’re so crass.”

  “And you’re looking for a fight.” I grab her by the waist and drag her off the bed, hoisting her over my shoulder.

  She beats her hands against my back. “Put me down.”

  “Give me a minute.” I step inside the bathroom and turn the shower on. I’m half-tempted to not wait for it to warm up, but I remind myself she’s still hurting over Joe’s betrayal.

  “Is this how you charm women, Aiden? Smack ‘em around and force them to do your bidding?”

  Her accusation cuts to the quick, because that’s exactly what my old man does to women, and I’ve spent my life trying to outrun that legacy. “That’s it.” I shove her into the shower, closing the door and holding it so she can’t get out.

  “You jerk,” she shouts, pulling on the handle. “It’s freezing.”

  “Good. You need to cool off.” She’ll have to wait a while because Kingston’s hot water heater has been on the fritz since he moved in, and management won’t replace it because each time they send someone to check it out, it’s working properly.

  Her bottom lip juts out. Even though there’s water pouring on her face, I swear I can see her tears. “Why you gotta be so mean? I’ve just had my heart broken.”

  My heart breaks for her. Yeah, I’m a sucker, but in this moment, I don’t care. Opening the door, I crouch to her level. “I know, LT.”

  She gazes up at me, hair plastered to the side of her face. “It hurts so bad.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “How long did it hurt when you and Finley broke up?” she asks, blindsiding me.

  “Long enough.” But Finley wasn’t the one who got away. No, the one who got away is sitting right in front of me. “You can’t stay holed up in Kingston’s apartment forever. He has a business to run, and you have a life to live.”

  “Joe took that from me.”

  I look her right in the eye, allowing myself to touch her cheek. It’s soft and slick from the water... and cold. “Only if you let him. Take life by the balls and make him regret leaving you.”

  “I might just do that,” she whispers.

  My gaze drops to her lips, then further down still to where her nipples are hard and pointing through her shirt.

  “But first...”

  Layton’s hand shoots out, grabs me by the collar, and yanks me inside with her. Cold water hits me like a thousand needles, bringing me out of my horny stupor as I fall forward, hitting my knees on the shower lip. She pushes me, and I end up like a water bug on my back, my hands slipping on the wet tile as I attempt to push myself up.

  “What the fuck, LT?”

  She steps over me, water running down her body as she says, “Stop complaining, and be glad I didn’t grab you by the balls.” With a little smirk, she snags a towel and slams the door behind her.

  Chapter 5

  Layton

  THAT EVENING, AFTER making sure Aiden was long gone from my bathroom, I make myself human again and go downstairs.

  Kingston’s in his favorite spot—the kitchen—preparing a masterpiece sure to make my taste buds sing Glory Hallelujah.

  My brother is one of those guys who just can’t help himself when it comes to women. He thinks of himself as their knight in shining armor, which is entirely true. He saved me from humiliation, but like all good things, my hiding in one of his bedrooms must come to an end.

  Needing his help is one thing.

  Cowering like a child is quite another.

  “Sleeping Pain in My Ass is awake. Goodie,” he says without turning around. “Guess Aiden was the dynamite your butt needed.”

  “He all but threw me in the shower, Kingston, and it was freaking cold,” I complain.

  Kingston looks at me over his shoulders, his dark brown eyes full of humor instead of sympathy. “Genius move. Pure genius. Guess that’s why he makes the money.”

  “Shut up, Mr. Rich.” I sit at the bar and wait for Kingston’s orders. I’m not playing at being helpless or demanding silently to be waited on. My brother hates it when someone comes into his domain while he cooks. And because we all love his cooking so much, even my mother stays out of his way. “What smells so good?”

  “Flattery will get you a full stomach, kid.” He turns off the burners and plates two dishes.

  I let out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t get out a third. The last person I want to face is Aiden after he’s seen my ugliest pair of underwear and my hair looking like a squirrel’s nest.

  “Just us, huh?” I ask, just in case Aiden’s waiting around the corner with a water hose.

  “Aiden had to go home to dr
y off and change.” Kingston sets a plate of pasta and grilled chicken in front of me. My stomach growls. “What in the hell did you do to him?”

  “He did it to me first.” I pick up a fork and take a bite of everything, closing my eyes and enjoying every flavor. “So yummy. “

  “Whatever he did, as long as he didn’t hurt you, I’m glad it worked.”

  The stinging feeling of his hand against my butt cheek makes me squirm a little. Is it weird that I enjoyed it? Yes, he smacked my tail as punishment for saying fuck... oh my God, should I have enjoyed that?

  My cheeks heat at the thought. I really need to talk to Paige about it, but she hasn’t answered my earlier text, yet... probably because she has a life.

  “You’re looking more yourself, too.” Kingston joins me at the bar, bringing with him two glasses of wine. “Cheers.”

  I take a glass from him and pretend to drink it. I hate wine. Yeah, I know... So sue me, I like fruity drinks instead of sophisticated ones. “Mind if I get some water?”

  He takes my glass and pours the liquid into his. “Nope.”

  “Hard day?” I hop down from the stool and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “More of a headache than anything.”

  “Maybe you should make Finley this amazing dinner?” I wriggle my eyebrows at him as I sit back down. He knows I don’t mean romantically because my brother has this rule about dating his friends’ exes. It’s a good rule and one Paige and I had, even though I never worried about breaking it. I was too busy being suckered by Joe.

  Plus, Finley is engaged to a schoolteacher who looks like Captain America’s twin brother. I think she’s good in the guy department.

  He tugs on his collar. “Actually, I’m in negotiations to buy my own firm. Don’t get me wrong, Finley has been amazing to work for and with, but it’s time for me to take the risk, you know?”

  “Are you serious?” I say, and he nods. A huge, goofy grin stretches my lips. “That’s amazing news.”

  “It’s not a done deal, so no celebrating.” He takes a drink of wine. “Speaking of jobs...”

  “When were we speaking of jobs?”

  “Right now.”

  I make a face, but inside I’m turning into ice. There’s no way I can go back to Bluebelle Hills and face the gossip mills, much less our family. “I don’t want to go home to work for Dad.”

  “I know you don’t, which is why I pulled some strings and set up a few job interviews with some of the major hotels and event centers in Raleigh.”

  “You did?” Tears threaten to fall, but at least they’re happy ones. I lean over and give him a quick hug before digging into my food once more. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. It’s up to you to get a job.” He pulls out his phone and brings up his email. “I’ll send you the details. First one is tomorrow morning.”

  I nearly drop my fork. “Tomorrow morning?”

  “It’s part of the reason why I had to use desperate measures,” Kingston admits. “Paige agreed, by the way.”

  “You just had to throw her under the bus.”

  “I defer to her advice when it comes to grown-up you.”

  I don’t feel so grown up right now. I feel like a little girl who has lost her way and let me tell you, it sucks. I enjoyed being a woman fully in control of her future, of knowing every single thing that was going to happen—at least the major events—from the time I graduated college to when Paige and I outlive our respective husbands so we can move in together again.

  “Smart thinking.”

  Kingston touches my arm. “Are you sure Aiden didn’t say anything that I don’t need to kick his ass over?”

  I shake my head, not remembering one bit how much I also enjoyed him ogling me in the shower. At least I’m attractive to him... unlike my stupid husband who I have to wait six months to divorce.

  “Nah. He got the job done.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, I put on my most professional outfit and head to my first interview. It’s January, so either it will be biting cold or early summer temps. As soon as the first gust of wind hits me, my teeth start to chatter.

  I wasn’t made for the cold.

  Wrapping my arms around my middle, I search for my Uber and find the car already waiting. The driver drops me off in front of the tallest hotel in Raleigh a few minutes later.

  With a deep breath, I size up the building and make my way inside, giving myself a pep talk along the way.

  At the front desk, the manager is waiting for me, but she doesn’t look too happy. I don’t recognize her, so she can’t be one of Kingston’s ex girlfriends. One, he doesn’t have that many because he’s not a manwhore, and two, he’s on good terms with them.

  I extend my hand to her. “Hi, I’m Layton Price. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

  “You’re late,” she says flatly, and my cheeks heat.

  “I am?” Confused, I glance at the enormous clock on the wall behind her. Even according to their time, I’m fifteen minutes early. “I thought our meeting was at nine.”

  “All employees are expected to check-in thirty minutes before their shift starts.”

  I give her an odd look. “Your event-planner position is shift work?” There’s nothing wrong with shift work, but event planners generally work on salary. Some companies even throw in commission and bonuses. Although the privately owned library where I used to work paid me peanuts—comparatively to other jobs, at least—I was able to make my own schedule, have complete control of events, and work with my best friend, Paige.

  Why did I quit again... oh yeah, because Joe and I had plans to live back home in Bluebelle Hills after we married.

  “No.” She turns away and starts walking. “Follow me.”

  I almost have to run to keep up with her as she leads me through a set of double doors that are the entryway to a maze of hallways that would put a labyrinth to shame. Finally, we arrive at the manager’s office.

  I search her desk for a nameplate, but come up with nothing. Dang it.

  Maybe she’s not the manager. Maybe I assumed because of her position in front of the desk and the way she knew—

  “Have a seat, Mrs....? Your brother relayed that you were recently married.”

  My stomach drops. “It’s actually Ms. Price.”

  Her dark eyes narrow. “I thought women like you dropped their maiden name once they married.”

  “Women like me—do I know you?” No matter how hard I try, I can’t place the voluptuous blonde.

  She smiles stiffly. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “You’re not going to consider me for the job, are you?” I ask, not bothering to sit down. I tilt my chin up, determined to get through this farce of an interview.

  “I already have.”

  “So it’s a no.”

  “I worked too hard to get where I am just for some down-on-her-luck twat to sweep in here and replace the woman who earned her way, simply because she knows people in high places. That’s not how I operate.”

  It hits me then. She didn’t bother to read my resume because she assumes I’m not qualified. “That’s not how... I can’t help that my brother made some calls for me.”

  “Helpless is a good word to describe you, and why you wouldn’t be the right fit for the job anyway. “

  My mouth drops open, then closes. “Thanks for your time.” I turn to leave.

  “Oh, and Ms. Price?”

  “Yes?”

  “Raleigh is a small city. Best of luck on the remainder of your interviews.”

  Oh, hell no. I’m not going to let her threaten me. “I’m more than qualified for any event-planning position in this city, and if you had bothered to read my resume and called my references, then you would have known that.” With a huff, I sweep out of her office.

  “Best exit I’ve ever made,” I whisper to myself.

  Chapter 6

  Aiden

  IT’S COLD AS BALLS... and it’s Wednesday, which means our
trainer, Kelly, will make us run outside. He’s a masochist like that.

  With my breathing coming out in white puffs, I push my body as hard as I can, but my shoulder is burning like I’ve gotten knifed.

  During the first game of the season, I injured my knee and did something to my rotator cuff. The knee healed, but the rotator cuff... I’ve been putting off getting an MRI to check for a possible tear for as long as possible.

  A tear means surgery.

  Surgery means I can’t play.

  Instead, every two weeks, I get a steroid injection that gets me through the next two weeks.

  Yeah, I’m most likely making an injury worse, but I plan to end the season on my terms. That means playing in every game. It also means leading the Renegades to the Super Bowl where we’ll spank our opponent.

  My teammate, Dallas Drake, finally catches up with me. While he’s an amazing tight end, he’s a cocky son of a bitch who loves his reflection almost as much as his fiancée.

  “What up, old man?” he says with a grin.

  I’m literally one year older than him. Hardly an old man, but at thirty-five, there are times when I feel ancient in this sport.

  Sam, the second-string quarterback, blows past us both. Dallas and I speed up a little and puff out our chests, like that’s somehow going to transform us into twenty-four-year-olds again.

  “Shit,” Dallas breathes. “That kid is insane.”

  “He wants my job.”

  “And?”

  “He can’t have it.” Yet.

  Kelly blows the whistle, and we slow to a walk for a five-minute cooldown.

  “How are things with Paige?” I ask, earning a look of surprise from Dallas.

  He looks around, then points at his chest. “You talking to me?”

  “You see any other dumb fuckers walking beside me?”

  He laughs. Nothing ever bothers Dallas. I like that about him, but no way in hell will I ever tell him that.

  “Fan-fucking-tastic. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I want to ask if Layton had mentioned me to her, but I’m not a girl.

 

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