Sidelined

by Marquita Valentine

  She’s worth more than that to me.

  “My best behavior.”

  Layton frowns, then her mouth kicks up at the corners. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  “You didn’t sample anything at Paige’s?” I hold out her chair so she can sit, then plop my ass in the empty one.

  “Some of the things I cooked aren’t really what I like so I did taste tests only.” Her gaze flies to mine, and her cheeks flush the prettiest pink. “I mean, when Paige cooked, I was the guinea pig. A very picky guinea pig.”

  “LT.”

  “Fine. I cooked the entire meal, but you can’t tell anyone. I want Paige to get all the credit,” she insists, making me admire her even more than I already do.

  “You’re a great friend.”

  “The best,” she agrees, then her shoulders drop. “Well, once I got out of selfish mode, I am.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. Life threw a one-two punch at ya, and you got back up.”

  “Are you sure I’m talking to the same guy who told me to grow the fuck up?”

  I wince a little. “That’s me all right, but I don’t regret what I said to you because I meant it. You can’t be naive forever, sweetheart.” Even if it’s one of the most endearing traits about her. “Not all men are like your brothers and dad.”

  “I know, but it was really nice while it lasted.” She toys with the pasta. “However, I’m older and wiser now. I know that happily ever after doesn’t exist like I thought it did, and true love sucks.”

  True love never changes it mind. I can hear her say it, clear as the bells of St. Paul’s ringing on St. Patrick’s Day.

  “Don’t count true love out.”

  She places her fork on the table, and gives me a skeptical look. “You believe in true love?”

  “Anything is possible.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.” I bite off a hunk of the garlic bread, waiting for her response. My blood starts to pound in anticipation of what she’ll say next. Layton doesn’t back down for anyone.

  “Then why haven’t you fallen in love? You’re good looking. Rich. Smart. Your social cred is appealing to women who like that sort of thing.”

  “You got someone in mind?”

  “Not for love.” She grabs a breadstick and dips it in the marinara sauce, swirling it around and around. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I said it exists. What more you do want?”

  “Proof.”

  “Dallas looking in every mirror he passes isn’t good enough for ya?”

  She snorts and giggles. “I wasn’t talking about self-love, you goober.”

  “Goober, huh?

  “Wicked goobah,” she says with a wink.

  For once, I don’t mind her mimicking my accent. She doesn’t do it because she thinks she’s better than me, she does it because it’s in her nature to tease those she considers part of her inner circle. Hell, I’ve heard her do it with her brothers and best friend often enough.

  “That doesn’t even go together.” I finish my pasta, and then fill my plate with salad. “Your brother said you had some job interviews last week.”

  She blinks at the change in subject. “They didn’t go so well.”

  “I can’t imagine you weren’t qualified.”

  “My qualifications weren’t the problem... It was the perceived good ole boy system one thought was at work while the others...” She shakes her head. “The others only offered me a job so Kingston would owe them a favor, like one of the Renegades showing up for an event. When I said I didn’t work that way, the job offers were quickly rescinded.”

  “You were punished for being honest.” I push back my plate and let my food settle before I start in on the snickerdoodle cake she’s got hiding in her bag. I concentrate on that and the direction I steered our conversation in because if I don’t, I’ll end up kissing her, or worse, breaking my vow of self-imposed celibacy by taking her to bed. “Isn’t that some shit?”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you do everything right. Life still likes to make sure you’re paying attention or appreciating what you do have by taking it away from you.”

  Chapter 13

  Layton

  WE’RE STANDING AT THE door, though still inside with it closed, making small talk while I try to think of something that will get him to kiss me before I leave.

  It’s for the team, after all.

  Yeah, right. It’s for you.

  And the team.

  “I hope you didn’t pack up your cake. I’m guilty of midnight snacking on the night before the game,” he says, and I laugh at his confession.

  “The rest is in the fridge. You can’t leave cream cheese icing sitting out at room temperature.” I touch his arm, letting my fingers tiptoe down to his wrist to lace my fingers in his. “Thanks for being such great company. Talking to you makes me feel better about things. Puts them into perspective.”

  He doesn’t reply at first. His eyes are on our hands. “What are you doing?”

  “Holding your hand. Isn’t that, like, first base?”

  His head snaps up, blue eyes flaring. “Not where I come from.”

  “Are things that different in South Boston?”

  “For a rich girl like you and guy like me, yeah.”

  Ugh. I hate it when he puts a financial wall between us. I don’t think about how much money he has now, or how much money he didn’t have growing up... which might be why he does say stuff like that, to remind me I shouldn’t take things for granted.

  “Let’s pretend I’m not a rich girl, that I’m just a—a, what would you call a girl like me back home?”

  “Hoodsie.”

  Did he just say they call women sweatshirts...? “A what?”

  “Hoodsie.” He lifts his brows in a way that makes him look shy. “It means a hot woman.”

  “Okay. Let’s pretend I’m a hoodsie standing on the street near your house. Would you come talk to me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What would you say to let me know you wanted to do more than just hold my hand?” I bring his hand between us, resting it against my chest. My pulse jumps and pounds. “I know I’d be excited to see you walking my way, looking so fine in your grey sweatpants and black t-shirt. The way your shoulders fill it out and your arms bulging with those very sexy veins from working out so hard... Do you feel my excitement, Aiden?”

  “LT, this isn’t...” He growls in his throat. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Nothing but flirtin’.” I set my bag on the floor with my free hand, and place my palm against his chest. His heart is beating like mad. I smile with the knowledge. “What would you say, Aiden?”

  “Fuck.” He clears his throat. “I’d say...”

  “Yes.” I push up on the balls of my feet. “Whatever you’d say, I’d say yes.”

  He spins me around, pushing me up against the door and taking my mouth with a ferocity that leaves me breathless.

  “I’d say I’d like to take you out.”

  “Yes.” I find his lips again, nibbling on the bottom one.

  “Later, when I had you in my car, I’d tell you how beautiful you are... how I’d been dreaming about you. How damn hot you looked in your cheerleading outfit, shaking your pom-poms at me.” He bites my top lip, eliciting a pain so sharp and quick that I gasp in shock and dig my nails into his shoulders because... I like it. “But no fucking pigtails, LT. I want your hair down, so I can grab it, hold on to it while I kiss and grind against you until you’re soaking your panties.”

  “Yes.”

  He lifts me up in the air by my thighs, and I hold on while he crosses the room. When he sits on the edge of the bed, I straddle him, gasping as I make contact with his erection. “Think you could handle this?” He pushes up, his sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. “Think you could handle all eight and a half inches of my cock?”

  I nod my head frantically. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  He grab
s my hips, moving his in a way that makes me want to tear off his clothes and mount him. “I’d say, you taste like cinnamon and sugar when I lick your skin. Did you do that on purpose?”

  “Yes... I thought... I hoped that you’d kiss me tonight,” I admit. “A little seasoning never hurt anyone.”

  Another thrust of his hips, and I’m seeing stars. I’m on edge, ready to combust at any moment.

  He smiles at me, but it’s not nice or friendly.

  It’s triumphant.

  Confident.

  He’s smiling like a winner.

  I’ve seen this smile before, on television, after his team has won... and I’m not quite sure if I like it.

  “The thing is, LT, a hoodsie like you would only be on my street if they were slumming and wanted a taste of something forbidden to impress their friends.” There’s truth in his voice, and it makes me uncomfortable. Worse, I know it’s not about me. It’s about him. His life. His experiences. “Is that what you really want? You tired of all those gentlemen in your life, and now you want a real man who knows how to keep his woman satisfied?”

  I almost answer yes, but I’m just coherent enough that I avoid the trap I think he’s setting. “I want you. That’s it, Aiden.” I stop moving to look him in the face, keeping my eyes open when I kiss the corners of his mouth. “Your past, your future, and your present don’t matter to me. I don’t want you more or less because of who you used to be or who you are now. I’m me, and I want you.”

  Pressing my mouth fully against his, I kiss him like I’ve never been hurt, like I’ve only known him, and there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than on his bed, in his lap, and—I push those feelings and thoughts away.

  This is nothing but lust.

  Nothing but a silly game that turned serious when it shouldn’t have. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up falling for him. I’ll end up hurt again.

  I roll my hips, listen to him groan, and slip my tongue inside his mouth to duel with his. With each passing second, I’m getting closer and closer to orgasm... and he’s barely touched me. Our clothes are still on and—

  Out of nowhere, he tears his mouth away from mine. “I can’t be what you think you need, LT.”

  The hard ridge of his erection against me says otherwise, but I’m so delirious with desire that maybe I didn’t hear him quite right.

  “What are you saying?”

  His muscular chest rises and falls with each breath. When his hands don’t move from my hips, I’m half-tempted to start moving again, to find the delicious friction that made me grind down so hard that I saw stars.

  “I can’t... no, I refuse to be nothing more than revenge sex for you. It’s either all or nothing with me.”

  “All or nothing? I don’t understand why we can’t have sex.” Nothing is making sense to me. He’s hard, I’m ready for him, and he’s acting like something serious is getting ready to happen.

  “This isn’t a one-time thing.” He grimaces, like he’s in pain. “So either you’re all in, or I’m out.”

  “So you get to call the shots and it doesn’t matter what I want?”

  He grabs my shoulder, his fingers sliding upward to cup the back of my neck. “You don’t understand how close I am to breaking a rule that I’ve lived by for eight years. It’s killing me not to give you what you want.”

  I roll my eyes to hide the sore spot he’s hit with the bluntness of his words. “I’m so lucky to be one in a million of women who have tempted you, but you almost can’t resist me.”

  “Not even close, sweetheart. You’re the only women I’ve allowed to get this close in order to consider breaking my rule.” He leans in, warm breath on my throat as he drags his lips along my skin. “You’re giving me everything I’ve been wanting for a long time by sitting in my lap, fucking gorgeous as anything and making these sounds... Shit. You want me, but you don’t need me, not like I do you. And I’m worth more than that.”

  I swallow hard, hating what’s about to come out of my mouth. “I can’t give you more than that.” I’m too afraid. Too broken by what Joe did to me. How he lied and pretended to be the only one for me while he fell for another woman. If my best friend in the entire world did that... how much easier would it be for Aiden to pulverize what’s left of my heart?

  Instead of fussing at me, his touch becomes more tender, more reverent, and I want to melt in to him, pretend he’s the rock I need to cling to when life gets too rough to handle on my own.

  “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s my job to look after you. Make sure that no one takes advantage of you again, not even me.”

  His sweet understanding is nearly my undoing. “But I’m asking you to take advantage of me, and that’s like not taking advantage of me at all.”

  “I’m saying no to what you want for the short term, but if you decide you want long term, then I’ll move the fucking universe out of my way to get to you.”

  Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to cry. When did he start feeling this way? All these years, he’s pushed me away... I can’t deal with this right now. “Then I guess I’ll go.”

  He rubs my back in small circles. “Did you drive or use an Uber?”

  “Uber.”

  “At least let me get you another one.”

  Stop being so nice, I want to shout at him. If he were an asshole, this would be so much easier. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

  “I’ve lived here long enough to know that fine doesn’t mean fine.”

  “Please let me go on my terms. I’ve been humiliated enough on everyone else’s.”

  His hand travels to my face, where he caresses my cheek like it’s something precious. “The last thing I want to do is humiliate you.”

  “Still feels that way.”

  He leans his forehead against mine. “Wish it could be different.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for your honesty.” Closing my eyes, I kiss him one last time and scramble off him, grabbing my bags and running out of there before he can say anything else that makes me want to fall in love with him.

  As I wait for the elevator, I half expect him to come chasing after me, but when he doesn’t, my heart and my head finally come to an agreement—Aiden McHugh is totally off my list now.

  Chapter 14

  Aiden

  WE’RE BARELY AHEAD by a touchdown at the beginning of halftime.

  I got sacked so many times in the first quarter that Coach put Sam in when we gained possession in the second quarter, and I didn’t give a fuck.

  Yeah, I want to win and we’re so close to that Super Bowl ring that the jeweler is on standby to take down our sizes, but with Layton on my mind, I played like a rookie. Coach was right to bench my ass.

  I don’t blame her, but I sure as fuck wish Saturday night had never happened. The aftermath proved that not only adhering to my no-sex rules during the season is the best way to go, but also that Layton doesn’t want anything more than a good time from me.

  I crowd around our special teams’ coach as he goes over the plays on a small white board. As soon as we’re finished, I get re-taped, then trudge to my locker to sit down and get my head where it needs to be.

  “You got three and a half minutes to tell me what the fuck is wrong with you,” Dallas growls, grabbing me by the face mask and pulling me to a standing position. He’s co-captain and has the right to ask, or I’d tell him to shove a football up his ass. “You’re playing like shit, and Sam looks like he’s about to puke every time he goes out on the field.”

  “Can’t get out of my head.”

  “You break your rule?” His eyes hold no judgment.

  “No.”

  “Shit.” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should have.”

  “Maybe I want more than that.” I take off my helmet, nodding at a medic to come over and give me relief for my shoulder. He helps me out of my jersey and moves around my pads. The quick sting is soon replaced by the dull bliss of pain meds. I grab a fresh jersey, then check my pants for ob
vious tears and unfortunate grass stain placement. While I’m not opposed to freshening up for the camera, I think it’s bullshit to go out there like I’ve not been hitting the ground. “Help me out, brother.”

  With a grin, Dallas gets me into the tight jersey without being a total pussy about it. “Don’t you look pretty?”

  Well, he wasn’t being one. “Need me to return the favor?”

  “I’m good.” He finds a mirror and makes a face. “I do need to work on the hair though.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “You good?”

  “I will be, as soon as DJ Hernandez broadcasts tonight’s playlist and you pump us up.”

  An evil gleam enters Dallas’s eyes. “Not me. You, all you, brother.”

  I glance around the room. Everyone’s hitting their happy place with small groups, headphones, or the like. While I might be the QB, I’ve never been the type to lead. Only bark orders when it’s time for the rubber to meet the road.

  “I don’t know. That’s not my thing. That’s yours. Everyone likes you, man. They fear me.”

  “Maybe it should be your thing, and maybe it’s time for people to stop fearing you. Go out this season like a legend, Aiden.” He lowers his voice. “You’re a great player, but at this moment, you got two choices—go out like a man who barked orders to get shit done, or a hero who inspired a team to follow him to victory.”

  “Two-minute warning, guys,” the strength and conditioning coach calls out.

  Hernandez hooks up his phone to a Bluetooth speaker, blaring The Beastie Boys Sabatoge.

  Dallas catches my gaze. He’s waiting on me to call the guys in, but before I can, Coach comes to stand in the middle of the room. We all crowd around him.

  “We’ve come a long way. It’s up to us to decide if we want to continue the journey or get off right here. You know what I want. I know what each one of you has been fighting for all season. This is our time... when you run back on the field, I want you to show me how you want this to end.”

  Quite a few of the guys get pumped up by this.

  Others look at Dallas.

  Hernandez turn up the volume.