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I give him a dry look and ignore the fact that the ass I wouldn’t mind is my boss’s granddaughter and probably more than fifteen years younger than me. “I have no issue getting ass, son.”
“I said someone, not ass. We all can get ass, but it’s different to get someone who will complete you.”
I scoff at that. “Alex, I’ve told you, that ship sailed for me.”
He gives me a look. “She wasn’t it for you. Your person is out there.”
I push his shoulder playfully. “Get your head out of the rainbows and unicorn world you’re in, Cruz. Not everyone is lucky like you.”
Cruz doesn’t like that. “You are. Just put yourself out there.”
Once more, the navy-blue-eyed beauty comes to mind, but I quickly shake her free from my thoughts. Her card has been a beacon in my wallet, but I refuse to pull it out. While I do need to hire her, I don’t know if I can handle her in my space. The instant attraction I felt when I was toe-to-toe with her was something I am not used to. Yes, I enjoy women. I love fucking and getting off, but it’s never been an instant lust like it was with her. I don’t understand it.
She feels dangerous to me.
Like she’d turn my life upside down, and instead of feeling bad about it, she’d just grin at me.
I do love her grin, though.
My cock roared to life, swollen and heavy, the moment her eyes met mine. I wanted to strip her clear of her clothes and devour her. The urge to stuff her mouth with my cock overwhelmed me to the point of having to relieve myself once I got home. I grunted her name as my release covered the floor of the shower. Once I realized what I had done, I told myself I couldn’t do that again. Her name is too pure for my mouth. Not only is it wrong to think of that sweet girl while I’m getting myself off, but I could never have her. Not that she’d want me.
But I can’t help but feel like she was flirting with me. The low tenor her voice dropped to. Those hooded eyes as she pursed her lips at me. She gave me the vibe she was feeling me, but she was probably just selling her business to me. She’s a gorgeous girl, young. She probably didn’t realize she was flirting with me.
All these thoughts of taking her and using her in all my deviant ways are my issue. She’s a good girl, trying to make a living. Her services are affordable, and the boys liked her justfine. I’m stalling. I need to hire her, but all this is for later. I don’t even know why I am wasting my time thinking about it. Oh, I know why. Because fucking Alex Cruz said I need to find someone.
Such a pain in the ass.
“I don’t want to put myself out there,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “No one likes having their heart crushed to pieces.”
He gives me a look. “It’s been years, Coach. Not everyone will do what she did.”
Easy to say, but not true at all. The only reason she dealt with my desires was because she wanted something from me. I was there for her, but then I wasn’t. Not like how it was when we were younger. I still travel being a coach, and that’s what tore my marriage apart. The fact that she couldn’t deal with my traveling and not being home with her drove her to another man, even if he had the same job I did. And it’s no one’s fault but mine. If I had been there for my wife, she never would have stepped out. Instead, I was chasing my dreams, when the dream I had in my fingertips slipped away.
“Let me worry about me, and you worry about this beautiful family you’re starting, okay?”
Cruz’s eyes burn into mine. “You’re one of my favorite people, Coach,” he admits, his eyes searching mine. “I want you to be happy.”
I can’t hold back my smile. He’s a pain, but I love the kid. I do. His eyes widen since I hardly ever smile. “Be happy for me, aye?”
He doesn’t like that answer, but I’m done with this conversation. I pat his shoulder, nod to him, and then walk down the tunnel to the locker rooms. Once I nod and wish the rest of my boys a good day, I head to my office. It’s boring as all fuck in here, painted a sad gray color with orange accents thatwere here before I took the job. The only things I’ve added are awards, my old players’ jersey, and a few sticks I broke over the years. I like to be relatable, and having stuff like that seems to work for the guys. Or maybe it’s my approachable face.
Not.
I sit back in my overly cushioned chair and lean to the side to pull my wallet out of my back pocket. I toss it on the desk. It flops open, and there is her bright-pink card. Like her, the card is shiny, along with her logo, but the whole card itself is a glittery pink. Not surprised.
She’s a walking ray of sunshine.
I notice my hand twitching as I reach for the card, and I quickly shake it out, opening and closing my fingers. When I feel confident I can hold her card like a man and not like a teenager calling a girl for the first time, I reach for the card again. I ignore that my hand is still slightly shaking as I pull it out and throw it on my desk. I take in the details, what she offers, which is all information I already know. I’ve damn well looked at the card, her site, and her Facebook for the last three days. I’m well-informed. I’m just a scared wee fawn, I guess.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I take out my phone and send her a message since that’s what her card requests.
Please text. I don’t answer the phone.
At least she’s honest, and hey, it’s easier for me.
Me: Hey, it’s Riggs McCoy. Can we move forward with you keeping the boys on away-game nights?
Her answer comes right away.
