“I just need back on my game,” I say resolutely. “No more taking days off and giving in to distractions.”
He laughs. I don’t, my brows pulling together as I speak.
“We’ve got two more weeks together. It’s not like anybody’s falling in love in that time frame. So, I’m hands-off.”
He looks at me, surprised, until I specify, “I mean everything but sex.” My smirk grows. “A man’s gotta eat.”
He nods, throwing the ball back to Nate.
“Understandable, sir. I concur.”
I smile, watching her splash around like she’s doing those old-people water aerobics. Why does she have to be so fucking cute? And why do I want to go out there and wrap her fucking legs around me just so she’ll kiss my neck. Oh, you dumb fuck. Get it together.
“Plus,” I breathe out, selling every fucking word to TJ and myself. “The reality is, even if we decided to be idiots and try dating—”
TJ cuts me off. “You’d definitely make her cry. She’d just end up hatin’ you.”
I snap my fingers, pointing at him.
“Precisely.”
TJ slaps the wet football he just caught on my stomach, gut-checking me as I let out a groan. But he laughs before giving me a double fist tap to my shoulder and jogging out into the water to join them.
I’m spinning the ball around in my hand as I let my thoughts ruminate. This is for the best. I’m doing what’s best for me. And I owe that to myself and all the work I’ve put in.
“Crew!”
Her voice calls my attention again as she waves her hands in the air before she starts dancing to the “YMCA” song.
“It’s our song.”
I can’t help but thunder a laugh because when we got married, they asked us what our “special song” was. Told us they’d play it as she walked down the aisle. Because apparently, the officiant/Elvis only sings during the hours of six to midnight. I let her choose.
“YMCA” is what she strolled down the aisle to, and the entire place joined in at the chorus.
TJ and Nate are laughing, remembering the same memory as TJ lowers his shoulders below the water, and Nate grabs her waist to hoist her up on top.
Every bit of her pearly whites can be seen from the pool to the cabana as she continues spelling out the song with her arms. But a glimmer of something off to the side catches my eye.
I shift my gaze, looking out past her to a guy sitting by staring at her. And my jaw tenses because he’s holding up an iPhone, aimed at her. What the fuck? Is he…
Is this motherfucker taking pictures of her?
I’m staring for what feels like minutes but probably is only a few seconds as my hand grips the football hard, spinning it around to make it laces up.
Everything in my body calms, and the only pathway I see is from this chair to that motherfucker’s face about twenty yards away.
Before reason has time to catch up to action, I yell, “Nate, go long,” before I launch the football across the pool, whizzing past Eleanor, dead through that fucking cell phone and directly into that dude’s nose.
Two things happen: blood erupts from his broken nose, and Eleanor shrieks in surprise.
Wild Card’s already off TJ’s shoulders, her hands covering her mouth as her eyes turn into saucers.
But the guys are looking at me, easing her behind them protectively.
I stand, holding up my hands as I walk toward where that dude’s sitting, raising my voice.
“Wow. I’m so sorry about that, my guy. The ball really got away from me.”
Nate chuckles in the background, but I ignore it, keeping my face on the motherfucker who now has ice and a towel from the pool attendants.
I smirk.
“You should pinch the bridge of your nose…keep your head back.”
He glares at me, speaking like he’s stuffed up.
“You fucking broke my nose, asshole. I’m going to sue you. I know who you are.”
I look down at the ground where his shattered phone is lying before I swipe it up and pocket it.
“Well, if you’re going to sue me, then I’ll probably have to pay damages. Maybe even fix your phone. So, I’m gonna get a head start and take it with me.”
“You can’t take my fucking phone,” he grits out, shoving more of the towel against his bleeding nose.
But I squat down next to his chair, and glancing over my shoulder, I see the guys have gotten Eleanor out of the pool, and she’s now drying off in the cabana.
I look back at him, keeping my voice quiet.
“Do you think I don’t know who you are? You think I don’t fucking recognize you? I know who you and all your slimy friends are. Out here with cameras all the time, trying to track our every move.”
I stand again, looking down at him, watching his whole demeanor change, worry on his brow as I pull out his phone and waggle it in my hand.
“Sneak in here again and try to take another picture of my wife…and I’ll break more than just your fucking nose.”
I walk away without a worry in the world. Let him sue me. Nobody fucking treats her like that.
Eleanor meets me halfway back around the pool, flanked by TJ and Nate, who look at me with matching smirks.
“What’s the game plan?” TJ says slyly.
I throw my arm over Eleanor and look down. What am I doing? This is quite literally the opposite of the plan. But all reason leaves me again as she smiles up at me.
“Did you do that on purpose?” she whispers as we walk toward the hotel entrance.
I press a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of coconut oil and pool.
“Never. See what happens when I skip a day of training? My aim gets so bad.”
Just because I like her doesn’t mean I have to admit it. And maybe a little fun upstairs will get my head straight.
twenty-seven
“I think we should share custody of your cock.”
eleanor
I don’t know what the hell happened at the pool, but what I do know is Crew Matthews is full of shit. That football zoomed past me like a fucking ballistic missile locked onto exactly what it was aiming for.
The nosy part of me wants to know why, but honestly, if he doesn’t want to tell me, I’m fine with it. Oddly enough, I trust his judgment. I don’t know what that says about me because he just hit a guy in the face with a football, but here we are.
“Waters?” I offer, putting my bag on the edge of the counter as I walk toward the refrigerator.
But a crashing sound immediately spins me around as everything from inside my bag spills out all over the floor.
“Shit,” I rush out, as my tanning oil hemorrhages out over the marble floors. I look up, noticing Crew closest to the paper towels. “Hey, grab me some, please.”
But instead of jumping into action, he starts chuckling at me because the moment I got down on all fours, my hand slid straight across the floor, leaving me on my belly.
“Look at you…all laid out on the floor. Fellas, take a look at my…erm…our girl. If I didn’t know any better…”
I cut him off, laughing at myself.
“Shut up.” I lift my dry hand for him to help me out, but instead, he takes it and spins me in a circle, making me scream a laugh as the other guys look on, entertained.