Page 102 of The Overtime Kiss

Elle looks at me with a pleasant smile. “How’s everything with you? How was the football game?”

Great. I rode your ex-husband’s huge cock in the front seat of his car. I’m still on edge with the way I want him. And I’m totally not thinking about the fact that you’re his ex-wife at all right now.

“So fun,” I squeak out.

“And the Renegades won, I heard. But I was not forced to hear about it,” she says, sounding relieved. “Did he go on and on about all the bad calls?”

I bristle for a second. Just enough for it to feel irrational. Why does it bother me that she knows he does that?

Because I like when he does it with me? Because I want to be the only one who knows the way he rants about refs, the way his voice gets all low and grumbly, the way he throws his hands in the air when he’s really fired up?

Or because I’ll never be the only one who knows him?

Tyler once said he didn’t feel the sparks with her, but he must have felt something. She’s smart and capable and a good mom, and even if she’s not into sports…she’s got her act together.

I bet she doesn’t bang her boss.

I swallow down the unexpected shame. “There were so many bad calls, we couldn’t stop,” I say as footsteps echo in the hall, and a few seconds later, Tyler rounds the corner.

I can’t help it. My eyes roam straight to his jeans, hunting for a bulge.

It’s all gone, and maybe—maybe I take a little bit of pride that it took five minutes to deflate. Even though I should not be feeling any kind of boastfulness about banging my boss. On a schedule no less.

In fact, as I say goodbye to let them have their co-parenting talk about what the kids are up to this week, I’m not actually sure where I should be.

I’m off for the rest of the night.

But I didn’t make any plans.

The longer he talks to her in the doorway, the tighter my chest feels. I shouldn’t care. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling like an outsider. So, I do what any rational adult woman does when she’s getting way too in her head—I lean on a friend.

I message Trevyn, and invite myself on a dog walk.

Before I go, I swing past Luna in the kitchen and tell her I’ll be out if her dad asks. Then I make myself scarce, meeting Trevyn at a nearby park with his Lab mutt.

“What’s gotten into you, sweetie?” my friend asks suspiciously as I fall into step next to him and his dog.

“Just missed you.”

He arches a dubious and well-groomed brow. “I can see the lie radiating off you…just like I can tell you almost fucked your boss today.”

I swat his arm. “Shut up.”

“And you didn’t deny it.”

“I mean, I wanted to see Barbara-dor, not you,” I say as we wander into the park, lit by streetlamps.

“Understandable,” he says, but then shoots me another side-eye glance. “So…did you almost fuck him?”

I groan. “How is it obvious?”

And Trevyn cracks up, doubling over. “Sweetie, I guess I know you well.”

With a sigh of admission, I say, “You do.”

But when I return after we’ve done a few laps of the park, ducking into my apartment, there’s a knock on my door a minute later—and concern on Tyler’s face when I answer. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

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