Kicking Reality

“How many times do I need to tell you? You can’t erase the past so easily. And by the way,” I add, bringing up his stupid comment during lunch. “Your barbaric persona at lunch today was not well received.”

“Neither was your comment on fucking British men,” he shoots back.

“I never said I was going to fuck British men!”

I shake my head, laughing at the way he twists my words and makes me out to be the bad guy.

“That’s right. You won’t. Nor will you fuck any other man.”

He puts his arm around me, flipping me beneath him and pinning me on the sofa. He stares me down, keeping his body upright on both his arms. With a supremely sinister gesture, he bellows over me, “I’m no longer taking no for answer.”

Tugging my tank down, he exposes my breasts, reacting with wild eyes.

I battle with his touch; missing parts of him that still felt the same. I fight the jealously that reminds me that at this moment, Logan is buried into some other woman’s body. My emotions run deep, tugging me in each direction without an answer in sight.

And so, I did what I needed to do to remind myself that Logan wasn’t mine.

“Fine, Wes. . . . Have your way.”

“It takes a moment of terror

to realize everything that is missing from your life.”

~ Logan Carrington

I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

I did everything I could to forget about her. Nonstop personal training from the crack of dawn then team training out at the main fields. When training was over, I would exert myself at t

he gym. Then when the night came around, the exhaustion killed me. And, repeat. Day after day.

“I know you want to win but don’t you think you’re pushing yourself too far?” Ash worries, stretching his legs before our game.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, raising my arms above by head and stretching my muscles.

“You just haven’t been the same since we got back from the States. I think I know what your problem is.”

I raise my brow, wondering if he knew how hard I fucked his sister and that’s why I can’t sleep at night. If he knew that the image of her laying beneath me is so engrained in my memory that nothing else mattered right now.

“You’re lonely. You haven’t fucked some good pussy and you’re on edge.”

I shrug, bored of his interrogation. With the ball at my feet, I shoot for the top right corner. Fuck. I missed it by barely an inch.

“You never miss.” Ash panics under duress. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Not even another nurse?” He winks, positioning the ball in front of him.

“Maybe . . .” I play the idea in my head. “No, actually, I’m busy.”

He exhales, distracted by the whistle as Coach calls us in to begin our warmups.

We were a strong team, and this close to winning our quarter-finals. Where our team let us down, Coach was quick to point the finger. Coach is an angry man, dedicated but unforgiving when it came to mistakes. He repeatedly warned the both of us to pick up our game and not allow our personal lives affect it whatsoever. Ash proved himself; Alessandra wasn’t a distraction. She was a nothing. Although she lived with us, she rarely was home and on occasions when they both were there—they did separate things.

We finished on time and instead of hitting the gym, I stumbled back home and laid in bed. Even when I tried to relax, I thought of her. The way her body melted underneath my touch and how her eyes begged me to fuck her hard. I couldn’t stop staring at her body, from her nice round tits that pinched perfectly between my fingers, to the smell of her sweet pussy.

She was perfect in every fucking way.