I WASN’T one to call people profane names often… but what a fucking bitch.
Mae Garten was the epitome of evil encompassed in the body of a five-foot-ten bleach blonde, and my personal affliction since elementary school.
One would‘ve thought that after two decades of knowing each other, we’d have worked through our animosity toward one another by now. Yet, at this point, I was convinced finding the edge of the universe would be an easier feat.
Why did we despise each other so much, you ask?
Great question. Not so simple answer.
See, in our case, there was no defining moment that changed it all. No playground throw down that marked a pivotal turning point for us, or a monstrous betrayal that demolished our chances of having a hearty friendship.
Instead, our aversion bloomed at a sluggish, long-drawn-out pace with a snide remark here and a displeased eye roll there. Until a time came where we couldn’t be in the same room together, without slashing a multitude of obscene remarks back and forth at each other. That is, until an innocent bystander was forced to break us apart.
Sounds complicated, right? Well, that was Mae for you.
Now, in football, there were a few key components that made up an ideal center quarterback exchange—pressure, push, and pull. Cleverly coined as “The Three P’s”. Thankfully, the many years I’d had to dwell on Mae and I’s mutual disdain gave me ample time to categorize our relationship—or lack thereof—into three pillars that I conveniently liked to call “The Three C’s”.
Competition. Conflict. Control.
It was a principal rule that at any given moment in time, no less than one of the aforementioned pillars was at play between the two of us. For example, until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen Mae in nearly seven years. During that time, the element of competition still loomed within every Page Six article and Socialgram photo. Both of which acted as an implicit tally of our latest accolades and career achievements, despite us living nine hundred miles apart with no contact.
If it wasn’t already clear, Mae was the last person I intended to seek out in my time of need. Yet, somehow, I caught myself standing in her backyard peering down at her skimpy blue bikini covered body asking—nay, begging—for a favor.
“Mae, sweetheart. Please,” I pleaded, contemplating how far into the afterlife she would mock me if I dropped to my knees with beggar hands.
A scoff escaped Mae’s lips and a pained expression spread over her face as she pushed herself off the chaise lounge she’d been lying on and breezed past me. Shaking my head, I swept away a bead of sweat from my hairline with my tattooed forearm and watched as she marched toward her back door, attempting to rid herself of my presence.
Which was somewhat understandable given that mere moments ago, I all but demanded that I move into her pool house without giving any prior explanation.
Some might say inviting yourself to live in your sworn enemy’s backyard was rock bottom. And if that was the case, I’d need a search party sent to the darkest depths of the Atlantic immediately.
In the meantime, we shouldn’t overlook the fact that this moment right here was a prime example of “The Three C’s” in action. You see, in this instance, Mae and I were exercising one of, if not the most, important pillars—control. Unfortunately for me, though, she was in possession of power this time around. Not only did she have the ability to escape inside at any second, but she also had the final say in whether she’d deny helping me, which could, in turn, leave me both emasculated and on the hunt for a house.
Neither of which were ideal.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure we can talk through this…”
“Eww.” Mae’s entire body cringed as she swiveled on her heels to face me. “Do not ever call me ‘sweetheart’ again.”
“How about sugar tits instead?” I chided, slipping my gaze down to the thin turquoise material covering her perky breasts. Although seeing the glower on her face as I inched my eyes back upward gave me an overwhelming inkling she wasn’t charmed by my proposition.
Such a shame.
The thing about Mae, was that she’d grown immune to my taunts by the time we were teenagers. However, since our recent reconnection—no thanks to her sister, Scarlett—there was no mistaking her stiffened shock at my newest lineup of lewd remarks. For the better half of a decade, I’d been carefully brewing a new set of ready-to-use annoyances for when we inevitably crossed paths again. Nice to see my years of mental handiwork coming to good use. Best of all, there weren’t any parents or teachers around these days to reprimand me when things got out of hand.
“If I ever catch you gawking at my tits again, I swear to god I’ll wear a turtleneck and peacoat every second until I’m six feet under the ground.”
“Good thing you’re already on the fast track to hell, because lying is a sin.” The corners of my mouth quirked upward into a playful grin as I called her bluff. Just as I suspected, she stood there with a stern-faced expression, stopped in her tracks without so much as a comeback stuck on her lips.
Granted, it wasn’t difficult to conclude her claim as false, being that we were standing outside in one-hundred-and-five-degree Miami heat where she was quite literally frying herself by the pool in next to nothing a few minutes ago.
“Try me, Calhoun… I dare you.”
Apparently, our time apart had made her rusty. Her quarreling tactics desperately needed refining if she wanted to come anywhere close to unnerving me.
Despite her insufficient sharpness, the tension that swarmed between us was as electric as ever. It was practically tangible. A profuse static humming that consumed the five feet of space separating us. And frankly, I’d be a stone-cold liar if I said I didn’t get a bit of a high off of our deranged dynamic. As much as Mae’s presence annoyed me, there was no denying that I found our little feuds to be quite entertaining.
I wouldn’t continue taking part if they weren’t.
“Seriously? You’re still staring.” Mae balled her hands into fists at her sides before making two giant strides forward until her chest was flush against mine. “You’re shameless. You know that, right?”
With utmost honesty, I could confirm that I hadn’t been gawking at her like she was accusing me of. Then again, why on God’s green earth would I need to steal a look when I could feel her nipples hardening against me instead? Someone entertain me and make her logic make sense.
Like I said, I knew the girl needed some work on those argumentative skills, but I never would’ve guessed she was this out of practice.
Raising a brow in silent question, I matched her steadfast stare while a wry smile tugged at the corner of my lips. After a beat, she fluttered her gaze down to our connection, and it was only then that I watched in amusement as a flurry of emotions rolled over her features.
Shock. Disgust. Uneasiness.
Just to name a few.
“I… I…” she stammered, fluttering her gray-blue eyes up to mine before dropping them down to our point of connection once again.
Mae was rarely one to waver in a fight, and while there wasn’t a prize to be won here, I couldn’t resist the hint of triumph that ignited in my chest knowing I’d rattled her a bit.
Man, some small victories sure tasted just as sweet as the big ones.
“You what?” I challenged, lifting a hand to brush away the strand of blonde hair that had fallen into her eyes. And no, I didn’t suppress the amused grin that took over my face as she avoided eye contact by looking up at the crystal blue afternoon sky.
Accepting her downfall with an eye roll, Mae sagged away a fraction of an inch so we were no longer touching. Somehow, the minimal space between our bodies only seemed to intensify the rampant spark between us. The yearning desire blooming tenfold with each passing second.
“So, tell me… when can I move into the pool house?”
“Let me think…” Mae hummed, resting her palms on her hips and tapping her right foot against the hardscape before her face went flat. “Never. It’s occupied. Indefinitely.”
“Don’t lie to me, March baby. I know Scarlett moved into Abel’s place across the street a few weeks ago. I was at their housewarming party last Friday, remember?”
“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell.” She brushed me off as if we hadn’t had a spirited debate over whether lime crema and mango salsa could be used together on fish tacos simultaneously. The answer was, without a question, yes. Yet, she insisted on arguing over the subject while a handful of my teammates sat back, sipping on cold beers while watching the two of us argue like we were some sort of hired entertainment.
“Mae, seriously,” I exhaled, running out of patience. My lease was ending in two days and I had more important things to spend the next forty-eight hours focused on, like preparing for the Matrix’s first preseason game that was coming up in a week.
“Why do you need a place to live in the first place? You’re a professional athlete, and unless you’re financially reckless—which would make sense now that I’m saying it out loud—you have to have at least a few million sitting in a bank account you could use to find somewhere, anywhere, else to live?”
“First off, I am not ‘financially reckless’,” I mocked her shrill voice in an exaggerated feminine tone. “Second, my contract with the Matrix was only for a season. They haven’t offered me an extension yet, and there’s still another month before the fifty-three-man roster is finalized. Even then, there’s always the possibility I could get released.”
She threw her head back and let a wicked laugh ripple past her lips. “Sounds like a personal problem if I’ve ever heard one. Maybe if you played better last season, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“We were undefeated, won the League Bowl, and I broke four franchise records. Only a handful of players in League history have had a season as good as I did last year.”
“If you say so…” she stretched her arms up over her head, pretending to yawn. “But it doesn’t sound very impressive, if you ask me.”
I expelled a ragged sigh while poking my tongue into my cheek, trying to simmer down my growing desire to challenge her thought process. “Look, I’ll only be here until the Matrix decide to extend my contract, or I get signed with another team.” I paused, wiping another dot of sweat from my forehead. “Trust me when I say you’re the last person I wanted to ask. But it’s hard to find a place that will rent to me for an unknown period of time that also has enough security.”
Didn’t hurt that she lived ten minutes from our practice facility either.
“I can think of a few places for you… oh yeah, they’re called hotels, you imbecile.”
“Where anyone off the street could walk in and lurk outside my room?” I countered.
“Why are you acting like you’re not a six foot three, two-hundred-thirty-pound football player? Hell, even if you weren’t, you could always hire a bodyguard.” She fired back effortlessly. “Besides, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Abel’s house got toilet papered by a few heathens a while back, so this neighborhood isn’t exactly the safe haven you might think it is.”
I leveled my gaze at her with a blank face. “If I recall correctly, you and your girl posse are the ‘heathens’ that were found guilty of that offense, weren’t you?”
“Once again, I do not know what you’re referring to.” She deflected, darting her gaze to the pool house on her left.
Mae had always been a horrible liar. It was comical, really.
Like once, when she was in first grade—and I was in second—she went on a passionate rant trying to convince her dads that she hadn’t stolen a candy bar from the convenience store down the block from our neighborhood. Regardless of the evidence being smeared across her face and the brown and silver wrapper hanging halfway out of the back pocket of her shorts.
Man, some things never changed, did they?
“I assume you asked all of your friends first?” Mae arched a brow. “How disappointing that none of them wanted to help you.” She made a mock frown that ignited a warm blaze of heat beneath my skin.
As much as I wouldn’t mind her taut nipples being pressed against my chest a second time, I was ready to shut this conversation down. We could pick this little game back up and argue ourselves into continuous circles some other time if she wanted. “Come on. I know you’re bored, but I don’t have all day to waste here.”
Her lips flattened into a line as she paused for a beat to push out a heavy breath from her nostrils. “The best I can offer you is a room at Rita’s next door. She rents the house from me and I’m sure she’d let you stay in one of the guest rooms or something… but you’ll have to pay five times her rate as an inconvenience fee.”
“What’s the inconvenience?”
“You.”
“Clever,” I deadpanned. “But I already told you I want the pool house.”
“You’re not getting the pool house.”
“What are you going to use it for?”
Mae sucked in a breath as if I’d insulted her before stomping toward her back door once again. “I don’t have to give you a reason,” she called back over her shoulder as I trailed behind her. “It’s mine. If I want it to sit there and collect dust, then so be it! Hell, maybe I have plans to turn it into a sex house. Who knows?”
I ignored her sex house comment for the sake of wanting to end this conversation, although I had to admit it piqued my curiosity.
“You won’t even know I’m here. I swear.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!” she insisted, flailing her hands in frustration as she whipped around. “Seriously, has no one ever told you how insufferable you are?”
“You have… many times. Even though you never walk away from a fight.” Her jaw tensed at my words, but I made the conscious decision to prod further. “I’m beginning to think I’m not as ‘insufferable’ as you insist I am. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were getting turned on by this long-standing game of cat and mouse we play.”
“Oh, that is rich, Calhoun. Just freaking rich. I can’t believe how enormous your ego is! It’s alarming, truly.”
“You’re in luck, because I have another thing that’s alarmingly enormous too.” I shot her a wink, which—based on the dirty expression on her face—was not well received. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you have a look any time you want… all you have to do is ask.”
She flared her nostrils at me with a scowl, and crossed her arms over her chest, which inadvertently pushed her breasts upward. Nope, nope. I was not going to unravel her wrath by looking at them.
By the time I flicked that thought out of my head, Mae had already turned on her heels to flee from me yet again. Catching up in three steps, I wrapped a hand around her elbow to hold her back from escaping. “Mae… please.”
She reared her head back with an open mouth to observe my face, likely as astonished by my use of the word ‘please’ as I was. It wasn’t a term I was accustomed to, especially where she was involved. But seeing as this was the second time I’d used the word since stepping foot in her backyard, surely, she must’ve sensed my desperation.
“Get on your knees and I’ll consider it.”
I contemplated her offer for all of a millisecond before a slow smirk curled at the edge of my mouth. “All this time, I imagined I’d be the one saying those words to you instead.”
“That’s it. I’m done with you.” She hissed, reaching for the handle, tearing open the door so forcefully that a gust of crisp air blew against my cheeks. “Get off my property.”
“Does that mean you’ll think about it?”
“I hate you.”
“Likewise,” I replied drily, just before the door slammed shut behind her.
This might not have been the victory I was hoping for, but I had a tendency to play better in the second half of the game, anyway.
