Beautiful Game by Lainey Davis

Author:Lainey Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lainey Davis

CHAPTER TWENTY

Lucy

I SIT IN my car and stare out the window for a long time after I leave Hawk’s apartment. Thankfully I do not have a parking ticket. I laugh at the absurdity of thinking of that at a time like this. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I crossed a line and had sex with a colleague. Is he a colleague? My subordinate? I laugh again at the thought of Hawk being anyone’s subordinate. Either way, he should be off limits.

Impulsive, fun shit is for people without baggage. I have to be “on” all the time, to keep my job and to keep my kid and to stay safe. I can’t afford this sort of diversion. What did I just jeopardize for an afternoon in Hawk’s arms? God, maybe it was worth it…

I drag my hands down my cheeks as I think about the risk to my job, let alone the risk to the fragile shell of a heart that’s somehow still beating inside my chest. That was hands down the most intense sexual experience of my life. Hawk is such an intuitive lover. He can read my body so well. And I just left him in there! I walked away from him like he’s nothing.

I groan, thinking of all that I know about his history, and how I probably played into his insecurities by walking away. He told me to find someone else to fuck next time I feel horny. As if there could ever be anyone else after that.

He certainly doesn’t need me messing with his already-fragile head space, especially when he’s dealing with all his family stuff. I hate that I sent him such mixed signals today. It’s not fair to him and I owe him an apology. Of course, I’d need to talk to him to offer that, and I know that talking to him will lead me to picturing him naked. Gah!

I check my phone in an attempt to distract myself and I almost faint in relief when I see an email from the Phe-Moms asking if anyone is up for a quick game of pickup this afternoon. Many women on the team are teachers or professors—at least eight people chime in that they’re available.

Eager for the distraction, I add my name to the “in” list and hurry home to grab my cleats. When I get to the field, my teammate Dina shouts and waves from the turf. “Lucy! We need to establish a presence. It’s every group for themselves with no permits today!”

The park is crowded, with people playing pickle ball and running hurdles on the track. There’s even a group of folks clad in all black, dancing through a Tai Chi sequence under the trees behind the far goal. In the middle of this bustle, I spy groups of athletes eyeballing the open field, hoping to snag it for their own activity. The Phe-Moms are often fighting to claim space, even when we do have the permit. It’s a pretty strong metaphor for most of my adult life.

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