Page 31 of Love Complicated
Guess who’s a football coach now?
This guy. Only because I know it pisses Aly off the moment I see her.
Don’t believe me? Take a look. She’s walking up with the boys, each one holding her hand. See the frown set on her face?
Pissed. Off.
And I fucking love it.
Blood rushes through my body. A natural reaction with her proximity. I can see I’ve pissed her off. She notices me and takes a seat on the bleachers next to the field. Her small hands curl into fists until she has to tuck them between her thighs. She looks like she’s on the verge of throat punching me. Watch her. Do you see the way her lips thin into a straight line? The way her body goes rigid?
All indications she’s angry.
And you know what? Her anger turns me the fuck on. There’s a reason why I was such a shit as a kid. It was to get little Aly Rae Sprague to look my way and now that she is, I have to keep it up.
Henry goes immediately into drills with the boys, and my attention is on Aly, who by chance, or me playing my cards right, is standing next me. Her eyes are on me, looking like she wants to take a pair of cleats to my face.
A grin tugs at my lips, but I don’t let it loose.
“Jesus, you’re their teacherandtheir coach. Something tells me you’re doing this on purpose and you’re pissing me off,” she says quietly, her eyes searching my face.
“And it’s turning meon,” I retort, my voice flat as I wink at her. “If you keep glaring at me like that I might have to fuck you behind the bleachers.” I don’t move my eyes from the field, but I can see from my peripheral she’s white as a ghost. “Or I could steal a car again and maybe this time you’ll give in?”
Is it wrong to enjoy that after ten years I can still get under her easily? I know what you’re thinking, Ridge, you’re being awful. Knock it off.
Nope. I can’t. Not when it comes to her. Teasing her is too much fun.
“You’re disgusting,” she mumbles, reaching for the water bottle on the bleachers beside her, still staring at me—but not in a way that suggests she’s appalled. My dirty mouth doesn’t disgust her. Judging by the flush of her cheeks, the way her body instinctively angles toward me, her attraction to me does. “How old are you now? Is fucking still all you think about?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I’ve thought aboutyoumost of today. . . and something tells me you enjoy that, Aly.” My voice blows over her, and I know it sparks something inside her. Look at her. She wants to slam me against the metal bleachersandride my cock until I make her scream.
Her eyes glitter with rage, and fuck, I’m so hard. She’s so goddamn beautiful. See that spark in her eyes? Yeah, there’s hate there, but there’s also anticipation I might own my words.
Yep. It’s decided. I’m going to fuck Austin’s ex-wife. I have no idea if they are still technically married. I don’t care at this point.
“Do you really think you and I talking is a good idea, Ridge?” She leans forward, her arms crossed over her chest, effectively pushing her tits up in the tank top she’s wearing.
Goddamn, those are nice.
I turn to face her, my hands on my hips. “I’m curious, why’d you marry him? You had to know he was going to cheat on you.”
I don’t think she wants to hear that. Do you?
Her lips thin, her jaw tightens. Nope. Didn’t want to hear that at all. “You know what your problem is, Ridge? You’re pissed off I chose your stepbrother after you left.” There isn’t a trace of embarrassment in her voice. She owns this. What she doesn’t know is how much truth there is to those words.
“Iampissed you chose him,” I tell her sternly, narrowing my eyes at her. “You chose wrong and you know it. Safe doesn’t always get you security.”
Do you notice the way her cheeks redden? What about the inability to suddenly meet my eyes and the perpetual slouch of her shoulders? She’s assumed because she knows the truth in my statement. Aly yanks her purse up over her shoulder. “I hate you.”
As she’s walking away from me and I’m watching her ass in those jean shorts that are clinging to her every curve, I chuckle and flip a football around in my hand Henry tossed in my direction, as if to say, get over here.
I walk over to Henry, who’s staring at me, and I can tell he’s is trying to keep it PG for the sake of the kids standing beside him, but he doesn’t exactly do a good job. “Fuck, man. . . .” See what I mean? “You trying to get her attention?” he goads, amused with himself. I stare blankly at him. “She’ll probably even let you put your P in her lonely divorced V.”
Henry’s wrong though. I shouldn’t belookingat her or thinking about her V in general. I’m her kids’ teacher and they’ve been through enough. They don’t need me in the picture. That in itself is enough for me to stop the thoughts before I make plans. But then again, when have I ever followed the goddamn rules? Rules and me don’t always go hand and hand.
“I’m not lookin’ to get her attention.” I grin, winking at him because I’m a nasty fucker when I want to be. “I’m just looking to B my L on her Ts.”
Henry throws his head back in laughter. “That’s the cousin I remember.” And then he motions to Grady, dropping the ball downfield on every throw. “Go help him.”
