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I could list a hundred things for him to do, but I don’t, because I’m grateful he’s choosing to help me. They both are. With this job being so last-minute, it hasn’t been easy to get my shit together, but I’m getting there. My life may be a mess, but it’s mine and I wouldn’t change it.
Although as I drive away, an image of Wes springs to mind and I have to wonder…maybe sometimes a little change isn’t a bad thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Wes
Theclockticksoverto nine-oh-eight and I need to get my ass into gear. I have a nine fifteen meeting with my staff, but I can’t bring myself to leave my truck. I’m sensing a pattern where Lucy is concerned. Only this time I’m not pushing the boundaries so I can see more of her. No, this time, I don’t want to see her at all.
My chest tightens at the memory of running into her yesterday—not the kitchen, that’s a complete blur. But when I opened my office door to rush out and found her there, all doe-eyed and panicked, I couldn’t look away. She’s as perfect as I remember. If not more so.
The swell of her breasts peeking out of her unbuttoned polo and the curve of her hips completely sucked me back in. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself from running my eyes over every inch of her body, needing to get my fill after all this time. Allowing my heart that one moment to pound as I watched her shallow breathing and the subtle clench of her legs.
Knowing I affected her just as much as she did me was really fucking satisfying. I took in as much as I could in those few seconds, drinking in the same long golden-brown hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her lightly sun-kissed skin and perfect freckles, her bare lips, her…lack of a wedding ring. Yeah, I checked. Not that it matters, I just needed to know.But does that mean she’s divorced? Why the name change?And why do I care?
Shaking off my thoughts, I stroll into the meeting at nine twenty-one, and nobody seems to notice. They’re all getting settled and talking about random shit like their kids or a TV show they binged the night before. And even though I’m the one that’s late, I make a big deal out of it.
“Let’s start? We’re already ten minutes behind.”
As usual, the meeting goes over the allotted time—who schedules these things?—and I’m itching to get out of this stuffy room. I love the idea of coaching, and I’m excited to start with the team, but the meetings and politics, I can do without.
“And last, Aaron asked his new staff member to pop her head in and introduce herself—”
“Is that really necessary?” I bark out but he ignores me.
“She should be here any… Ah, Lucy, hi.”
Fuck me. I groan louder than I mean to and bury my face in my hands. These guys know I hate meetings so will assume I’m pissed due to the time, not the person standing in the doorway. The person I can’t get out of my fucking head.
“Hi, I’m Lucy. I recognize a few of you from when I was here almost five years ago, and…”
She keeps talking but I tune her out, my mind drifting back to when we first met. Did she work here then? I’m guessing yes, as it was about five years ago. At least I now have confirmation of how close she really lived. We could have easily made things work. Only an hour drive to see each other. An easy commute if I spent the night. Hell, I could have even lived here.What the fuck, Wes? You knew her for a week!
A week! I knew her for a goddam week and she caused irreversible damage. Imagine what any longer will do.
Lucy waits in the doorway as everyone departs, shaking hands as they pass. I hang back, hoping she’ll leave when she sees I’m the last one, but it’s wishful—or stupid—thinking.
“Wes, right? The head coach? Nice to meet you,” she says as I approach.
Is she kidding me with this?
I stare at her blankly, waiting for her to laugh, but she holds strong, keeping her hand out in front of her, ready for me to shake.Not happening.
“I’m Lucy,” she continues.
“Excuse me, I have another meeting to get to.”
I move around her to exit, but she grabs my arm as I do, digging her nails into my skin, leaving her mark.As if she hadn’t already done that.“We’re going to have to start over, now that we’re working together,” she whispers, with a fake smile in place.
“We don’thaveto do anything,” I say, staring at the tiny hand she has wrapped around my bicep, refusing to look her in the eye.
Of course she argues. “It will make our life easier.”
“Will it? Enlighten me.”
I don’t look up, but I sense her rolling her eyes. “Neither of us need this tension. We can be civil. We’re bothprofessionals.”
Damn. Pulling out the big guns. “Fine. Nice to meet you,Lucy.”
