Chapter Twenty-Five NICO

Chapter Twenty-Five

NICO

I’m constantly texting Coop, practically begging him to get rid of Portia and kick her out of our house for good. He’s trying, but he also feels like a jackass telling her to leave. Frank is defending her to Coop, and he feels caught in the middle. I get it.

But she’s relentless and won’t leave us alone. She’s still banging on my bedroom door every few minutes, screeching my name. Doesn’t matter that Coop is trying to entice her with alcohol. She won’t even listen to Dollar as he tries to sweet-talk her into leaving with him.

She’s lost it. More like she lost it at seeing Everleigh kiss me, which, not gonna lie, was surprising.

And pretty fucking good once I took over.

It was a bold move on Everleigh’s part, and while I was enjoying it, I felt kind of bad when we kissed in front of Portia and Dollar. I’m sure he’s hurt, believing we were hooking up behind his back.

That makes me feel like shit. I love giving Frank a lot of crap, and yeah, he bugs me sometimes, but he’s a good dude. A good friend.

Now he probably thinks I’m a terrible friend. At the very least, a big ol’ liar. That sucks. I don’t want whatever’s happening between us to mess with the team dynamics. Right now, everything’s going good for all of us. I can’t risk an argument with Dollar throwing the team off-balance.

Sliding out of the chat with Coop, I send Dollar a quick text.

Me: We need to talk.

I wait for his response, which comes sooner than I thought.

Dollar$: There’s nothing to talk about. You two make a great couple. Hope you’re happy with her.

He says nothing else.

“Shit,” I mutter, shoving my phone into my jeans pocket.

“What’s wrong?”

I turn to face Everleigh. She looks stressed the fuck out, and I feel terrible for dragging her into this. Even if she was a willing participant with that kiss.

My mind drifts to that too-quick moment. How soft her lips were. How sweet she tasted. Just like I remembered. I would’ve kept it going on longer, but she ended it first.

It’s still my fault that we’re locked away in my bedroom.

“Dollar is mad at me,” I tell her, deciding to be honest.

“He’s probably mad at me too,” she says with a sigh, collapsing on the edge of my bed. “He looked so hurt when he thought we were together.”

“Now everyone probably thinks we’re together,” I say, curious to see her reaction.

“I’m sure they find that hard to believe,” she retorts, wrapping her arms around her middle like she’s cold.

Frustrated, I tear off my hoodie and hand it over to her. “Put this on,” I demand.

She takes it from me and slips it on without protest, rising to her feet to let the hoodie drop to practically her knees. It’s huge on her, covering her entire dress, and honestly? I’m relieved.

Seeing her in that dress has me thinking all sorts of thoughts, none of them productive. All of them dirty. Touching her earlier, kissing her—that didn’t help.

What the hell are we doing, anyway? The constant back and forth is confusing.

“Why would you say that?” I ask when I realize I haven’t responded to her. “Is it so hard to believe that you’d want to be with me?”

She barks out a laugh, covering her mouth immediately, but that doesn’t stifle the sound. “Are you for real right now? More like they’re wondering what you are doing with me.”

“No one would wonder that,” I say.

“She would.” Everleigh waves a hand toward the door.

“Portia doesn’t count. She’s just jealous.”

“You know she’s using Frank to get back at you.” Everleigh sounds sad.

“Yeah. She probably is.” I run my fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. “I wanted to explain to him what’s going on, but he’s not in the mood to talk to me right now.”

I’m positive he’s angry with me, but shit. It was automatic, pretending that Everleigh is with me. We tried to sell that to Portia already, and we need to stay consistent.

I glance toward the door, realizing it’s become fairly quiet out there, and I go to it, pressing my ear against the wood.

“I think she’s gone,” I whisper to Everleigh.

“I’m not gone!” Portia screams, making me leap away from the door, anger filling me all over again.

“This woman is making my life a living hell.” I walk past Everleigh and throw back the thick comforter on my bed, kicking off my shoes before I climb beneath the sheets and jerk them back over me, covering my lower half.

“What are you doing?” Everleigh asks, her blue eyes extra wide.

“You going to hang out at my door all night, Portia? Huh? Do you want to hear us having sex? Is that what you’re waiting for?” I’m yelling. Goading her. “I’ll make her moan extra loud just for you!”

I don’t give a fuck about her feelings anymore. She’s pushed me right over the edge.

“Nico,” Everleigh whisper-hisses at me, but I ignore her.

“Fuck you, Nico!” Portia screams as she begins pounding on the door yet again.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Coop: For the love of God, stop egging her on.

Me: She won’t leave me alone so I’m giving her exactly what she wants.

Coop: No, you’re pissed and you’re being a complete douche. Knock it off. Stay quiet and she’ll leave you alone.

Damn it. I know he’s right, but I’m too fired up to take his advice. I toss my phone onto the nightstand, folding my arms beneath my head as I lie there against the pillows that are propped against my headboard. I decide to make myself comfortable because it looks like I’m not going anywhere else this evening.

Stuck in my bedroom with Ever isn’t such a hardship, is it? I guess it is when I’ve got my ex yelling at us from outside a locked door.

And Portia is still yelling. Calling me every creative name she can think of. I can hear Frank trying to calm her down, but she won’t listen to him. She’s pounding on the door. Think she might’ve even kicked it at one point.

“If you dent my door, you’re paying for it!” I yell at her just to be an asshole.

My phone buzzes, but I ignore it. Probably another text from Coop telling me to stop.

Here’s my problem. I’ve never liked being told what to do. Since I was a kid, I’ve constantly rebelled against authority. Made my parents nuts, but someone trying to boss me around and tell me how I should act or feel?

It never sits right with me.

Yeah, the coaching staff can get on our asses and demand we do something, but it’s always for the betterment of the team. That I don’t mind. That’s what being a coach is all about.

That’s what being on a team is all about too. We’re in it together, just like I told Gavin earlier. Sometimes I’m a selfish bastard, but very rarely am I selfish when it comes to football. Catching the ball and running it into the end zone is enough of a glory moment for me to get my accolades in.

But this woman I went out with—damn, I can’t even call it that; more like we fucked around for a couple of weeks, tops—is now determined to make my life a living hell, and I don’t get why. It’s not like we had a solid connection. Not yet. And while I hated how bossy she was all the damn time—I don’t like being told what to do—I know I’m the one who ruined everything between us, not that I regret it. I didn’t treat her the best, though, which looking back on it, was pretty awful on my part.

I’m not a great guy, especially when it comes to women. I screw up all the time. I’m careless. Thoughtless. I’ve had a few women even tell me I’m heartless.

Maybe they’re right. I don’t know. I’m thinking after tonight, I need to reassess my behavior and start treating women with a little more respect. Because this situation is god awful.

“You must’ve really upset her.” I glance up to find Everleigh standing at the foot of the bed, adorable in my hoodie as she twists her hands together. Her teeth are sunk into her lower lip, and she seems hella stressed out.

“I did.” I decide to be honest. “When we were .?.?. seeing each other, I treated her like garbage.”

“Yikes.” Her brows shoot up. I think I surprised her with my honesty. “Now I guess she’s getting you back?”

“Apparently. I think seeing us together triggered her.” I drop my arms and cross them in front of me. “I suppose I deserve this.”

“Well, maybe. Though no one deserves to be harassed.” She offers me a sympathetic smile. “I guess we’re stuck in here for a while, huh.”

“Guess so.” I shrug.

“What should we do to occupy our time?” She looks around my room, and I wonder what she thinks. I’m not a slob like Cooper, thank God. That guy’s room is always a mess. I don’t know how he’s able to find anything ever.

“Got any suggestions?” I ask, my mind overflowing with all sorts of ideas. None of them involving us wearing clothes.

Every one of them dirty.

Everleigh slowly shakes her head. “Scroll on our phones and wait it out, I suppose.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I don’t know what I want to do.” She throws her arms up in the air, the hoodie rising, flashing her slender thighs at me. “I was having a good night until she ruined everything. I don’t even think I have a buzz anymore.”

“Same.” I lean over and check the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I pull out a bottle of mezcal I hid in there from the last time we had a party over the summer and I didn’t want anyone drinking it. “We can continue the party with this if you want.”

Her eyes light up at first sight of the bottle. “Seriously?”

She sounds amused, and I smile, the tension easing inside me a little. “Seriously. Come here.” I pat the other side of the bed, indicating I want her to sit next to me.

Maybe even slip under the covers with me.

Whatever she’s comfortable doing. I’m not about to push myself on her, especially after we promised each other we were going to keep this friendly.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” One delicate brow arches, and her lips curve into a faint smile. “You can’t try anything funny.”

“Define funny.”

A tiny laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head. “You know what I mean.”

“Come on.” I pat the empty spot beside me again. “Let’s settle in, share some mezcal, and relax. Hopefully by the time we polish off this bottle, Portia will finally get the hint and leave us alone. What do you say?”