Thick Love (Thin Love, #2)(40)
“Just a little bit further, baby,” he whispered to Blanchard and they both laughed. I was going to join them, wondered what had them giggling like two twelve-year-olds at their first slumber party, but when I followed their low-lidded gazes and spotted Aly’s round, perfect ass right in front of those two knuckle heads, I curled my fists hard, stepping in front of them to block their view.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
They kept smiling, grinning like jackasses and Richard shrugged. “Come on, man, look at her. She’s hot.”
“And?” I said, moving right in his face, glancing once at Blanchard so he’d back off when he patted my shoulder. “That gives you a right to stare at her ass?”
“Ransom, man, seriously?”
“Seriously, *. You don’t get to stare at her like that.” My knuckles ached, had turned fainter than my complexion as I held my hand tight. It was Richard’s expression though, a little humbled, more than shocked by my reaction I guessed, that had me stepping away from them.
“Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were hooked up with her.”
“Hooked up?” What is wrong with you? That nipping at the back of my mind shook me, and I glanced over my shoulder, watched as Aly nodded to Kona when he spoke to her before I looked back at my two teammates. They weren’t looking at her. Instead they both frowned at me like my reaction was way out of character. It was and I scratched my chin, forcing my eyes to move away from Aly and her retreat into the kitchen. “I, I’m not with her,” I told them, rolling my eyes when I caught the doubt on their matching expressions. “I’m not.”
“Well, shit, Ransom you’ve got that whole jealous boyfriend shit down.”
“You…you know what? Fuck you both,” I told those two smug-smiling dumb asses, walking away from them to chug the warm beer in my hand.
The night progressed much the same way with me acting like a dick anytime I caught Richard and Blanchard with their heads together, nodding toward Aly as she moved around the lake house. I knew what kept their attention. She looked beautiful with her hair down her back, just brushing her waist and her strong, toned arms and legs on modest display in that fitted patterned sundress. That still didn’t mean they needed to ogle her and it didn’t explain why I kept doing a little ogling myself.
She moved around the room like she owned the world, not intimidated by all the boosters and their damn money or their shitty attitudes. Aly didn’t smile, but still had a friendly, soft grin on her face, one that drew the attention of others around her. She moved like no one could touch her, like just her swaying hips and the strong, confident gait told the world she knew who she was and no one could mess with that. Confidence goes a long way, and Aly was catching attention with hers. Me? I could not figure out why it made me mad that people were taking notice of her.
The lake house emptied a couple of hours later and when the head coach and his wife finally left and just my parents, Leann, Aly and I were left, we all seemed to breathe a little easier. At least, we could get out of our church clothes.
“Hope those bastards enjoyed that,” Dad said, coming behind my mother to rub her shoulders. “You should go sit down, Wildcat. We can take care of the cleanup.”
“I’d say to leave it but Aly’s head would explode,” she said, smiling at Aly when she took a handful of plates into the kitchen.
“Nope, we’ll get it.” Leann nodded for Mom to sit on the sofa. “Ransom will help, won’t you, little cousin?”
“You know,” I said, rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, “I liked you better when Tristian was around for you to bully.”
“Hush, I’m not that bad.” Leann turned my shoulders and gave me a push towards the kitchen, pointing to a stack of dirty dishes.
We cleaned the mess as my mother dictated from the sofa, rubbing her belly with her feet propped against the coffee table. She paused in her supervising to laugh at Leann dancing in the middle of the room after she turned the music up to something that would have had the boosters covering their ears and closing their wallets.
“Aren’t you almost forty, lady?” Mom asked Leann. “You shouldn’t be able to move like that.”
“Please, you don’t outgrow moves like these.”
That insane woman danced around the living room with a bag in her hand, shimming and shaking as she cleaned away the party mess and I rolled my eyes, heading back into the kitchen to deposit a stack of plates on the counter.
“I can do that, Aly, you don’t have to,” I said when I caught her unloading the dishwasher.
“It’s no big deal.” She moved to the music and I smiled. Leann had always done that too, most dancers did. It was something written into the genetic make-up, some weird instinctual coding that made them break out into a move, a twist, whatever compulsion it was that called to them. Aly did the same thing, I’d noticed, with or without music playing.
She did that just then in the kitchen with her hands on forks and knives, and her feet freed from the heels she had been wearing. I laughed at her when she twirled around that kitchen and laughed harder when I stepped back into the living for more plates, catching Leann doing some sort of weird twist with her hips that made me think she’d completely lost it.
“Work it!” Mom called, falling back against the sofa when Leann started twerking, moving faster the louder my mother laughed.