The Coaching Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #4)(49)

Whistle blows.

Feet move.

Forty-five minutes later, the first half is over, a new one beginning. We don’t take long breaks or stop for time-outs because no one wants the game to take all night.

It’s fast-paced and fun, with lots of bantering.

I can hear Anabelle laughing at Devin, two sets of eyes angling my way during a penalty kick. My roommate hits my friend on the shoulder while they stand together, forming a wall to block their goal.

It doesn’t work and my team scores.

Everyone scrambles to get back in position.

The ground is uneven in the park, the soccer field a hazard to run on, so when Anabelle trips in a divot and falls backward, I’m not surprised. I’m close enough to offer my hand and help her to her feet.

Our palms slide together, fusing.

I tug.

She stands. Swipes the grass off her rear, long legs marred with grass stains. Blushes.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Wait.” Her fingers reach out, plucking at my hair. “You have a piece of grass stuck right…here.”

“Thanks.”

She smiles. “No problem.”

I watch as she jogs away, eyes fastened on that ass. The long, colt-like legs striding back to her side of the field.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Fucking Devin.

I turn and shoot him an irritated scowl. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of the field?”

“I took Brandon’s spot, he had to cut out early for a study group.” My teammate laughs. “Getting chummy with your roommate already, I see? Peel your eyes off her for one damn second, would ya?”

“Shut up.”

His laugh is loud and annoying as hell. “I knew you fucking liked her! You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“I said, shut. Up.”

“It is too damn cute, that’s all I’m saying.” He falls into line beside me, way too far back to be in his correct position. “Like little puppy dogs!”

Curious, I can’t help asking, “What were the two of you laughing about during the penalty shot?”

My knees are bent, eyes still trained on the ball being kicked around.

“You, obviously.”

“Jesus, Devin, would you cut the crap? What did you say?”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I asked if you were being a kind and courteous roommate.”

“You fucking liar.”

“Yeah, I’m lying.” He sniffles, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. “I asked her if she found you attractive, if she liked you as more than a friend.”

“What the actual fuck! Why would you do that?”

“Because I was curious and I knew you wouldn’t have the balls. Don’t fucking lie and say your dick doesn’t tingle thinking about her. She’s hot.”

She is hot, especially in those short soccer shorts, with those flirty pink socks pulled up to her knees.

“Well, what did she say, asshole?” He’s driving me insane.

“What do you think she said?”

I want to strangle him so hard right now. “God I hate you.”

“Do you? Do you though? Or do you wish your balls were as big as mine?” He grabs his dick through his shorts, laughing.

“Just fucking tell me what she said.”

“Nah.” He ignores me, watching the players move around the field. “I don’t think I will.”

Fantastic.

I don’t know what’s happening to me; I have Anabelle on the brain 24-7.

We’re playing with fire, and we both know it.





Elliot



When I enter the house tonight, Anabelle is snuggled up in the corner of the couch, blanket over her legs, highlighter in hand, hovering it over a book I’ve never seen.

I can’t decipher the title from here, but its hot pink cover catches my eye. Setting my bag down by the door and kicking off my shoes before entering the living room, I join her on the couch, plopping down on the opposite end.

“Hey.”

She looks down at my feet, propped on the coffee table, happy to see me. “Hey. Welcome home.”

“What the hell are you reading?”

“A book? I bought it on the ‘Zon.” She turns the cover toward herself, reading it with a snicker. “How to Get Revenge on Someone and Stay Classy in the Process.”

“Oh Jesus.”

Anabelle sighs. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about this whole Eric and Rex debacle thing, and I’m just not ready to let it go. Like, I don’t want to be a psycho, but I don’t think they should get away with acting like complete douchebags. Know what I mean?”

“I hate even asking, but what does the book say you should do?”

“Well, it’s not good news.” Anabelle clears her throat, opening to the middle of the book, trailing her thumb along one of the pages. “When you act in desperation to get revenge on an ex, this not only makes you look crazy, it can also make you look like a complete psycho. Seriously, you’re better than that.”

“It says that? For real?”

“Yeah, for real. It’s such a bummer.”