Love Won (Winning at Love book 1) Read online

  Deciding not to tease her or share my dirty thoughts, I raise my hands in surrender. “To the surprise of perhaps us both, I wasn’t thinking of or going to say anything other than I’m happy you’re enjoying the chocolate, and I think your ass is just fine as it is,” I say, making sure I enunciate the word “fine” and keep my eyes on said ass.

  “Uh-huh.” She eyes me skeptically. “I was very sick, you know.”

  I laugh again. She’s adorable. “Truth is, Sprinkles, I wasn’t even thinking about it. And I know you were sick. I was there, remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Her face flushes a hot red.

  “I promise to never bring it up again,” I say, whipping up three fingers to show Scout’s honour. I give her a sly smile. “Although, now—” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Ha, like they would’ve ever let you join their group. And, see? I knew it,” she points her finger at me, “you’re more like a Devil’s Brigade kind of guy rather than a Scout.” She giggles, and makes two waggling horns on either side of her head with her fingers.

  “So, why didn’t you work out earlier with Martine Robichaud and the others?” I ask, trying to move the conversation along to prove I won’t bring up the Incident That Shall Not Be Named.

  “It’s too close to an organized activity for me. We both know I don’t always play well with others; you’ve seen how klutzy I am. I try to keep that shit contained these days.”

  “I couldn’t forget if I tried. Always the introvert and the girl with two very left feet. What are you doing with the beam?” I ask, gesturing down to the odd contraption she’s created by setting the balance beam on top of two wooden blocks at either end, raising the beam almost a foot off the ground.

  “It’s for cardio. Kam and I jump over it. It’s an easy way to get the heart rate up.”

  “Uh-huh.” I mock her earlier statement. It’s my turn to be skeptical.

  “I’ll show you,” she sighs. “It’s perfect and feels good in the thighs and glutes.”

  It’s official. She’s trying to kill me. I bite my tongue to prevent myself from volunteering to show her another type of exercise that’s good for her gluteus maximus and leg muscles. Instantly, images of her bent to my will has me hard, causing me to reach down and discretely adjust my ever-hardening dick as it stiffens, tightening my black shorts.

  “Okay, show me.”

  I watch as she starts to jump over the beam from side-to-side, planting her landings with both feet like she’s slalom skiing. I can see how doing this would get the heart pumping. It’s got mine beating faster just from watching—rather, staring at—her first three jumps alone. The way her tits are jiggling under my T-shirt is definitely giving me a rise. The words, “Fuck me,” escape with a grunt, whether I mean them to or not.

  “What?” Her head snaps up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a damn thing. I was thinking—”

  Suddenly, she yelps and goes falling backwards, landing flat on her back. Her head hits the base of the leg press with a dull crack.

  “East! Jesus, are you all right?” I rush to her side. She slowly sits up, her face a little pale, her hand rubbing the back of her head.

  “Yeah, I’m okay, I think. I’m seeing a few stars, but nothing’s broken.” She smiles awkwardly, and tries to stand.

  “Sit a minute.” I grab her arm gently. “Let me look at you.”

  “I’m fine, Coy. See why I don’t do this shit in front of others? I know, I know. It’s my two left feet,” she says, imitating my deeper voice, and I chuckle.

  “Or maybe it’s me and the effect I have on you, Sprinkles? Here you are, falling at my feet once again,” I wink.

  “I dislike you immensely. You know this, right?” she scoffs. She relents, and sits back down on the carpet.

  “Funny, I don’t think you do,” I say, before rubbing the back of her head and neck, checking for any cuts or goose eggs. Thankfully, I don’t feel any.

  We spend the next thirty minutes talking while I make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. I make her answer questions on the mandatory concussion checklist and protocol form I grabbed from the Phys. Ed. office, since her injury happened on school property.

  “You’re such a stickler for the rules, Graves. I’m fine,” she says, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time.

  “I’m the boss, so you must do as I say,” I remind her with a teasing smile.

  She counters with a light jab to my stomach. “You aren’t the boss of me, remember? Oh, wait…”

  This causes me to have to bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Humour me, Sprinkles. I just want to make sure you’re all right,” I say, and she gives me a sweet smile and let’s me do my thing.

  Boss or not, it was thirty minutes where I got to sit next to her taking in her sweet smile and intense eyes, and with a valid excuse to touch her. It made me wonder how the hell I could get more of this—and soon—without her having to sustain another injury.

  It also made me question why the fuck it had taken me so long to get here.

  2

  Confessions of a Bromancer

  Eight months earlier…

  Stalling.

  I’m fucking stalling.

  I’ve known for three weeks now that I’m going to take the job.

  To move back to Guelph.

  Back where my so-called parents live.

  And also back to Keaton and the Hatfields, my second family—my real family.

  Moving back to her.

  To Eastlyn.

  And I’m not going to try and bury my feelings anymore.

  It’s been a game of inner denial and self-deprivation for way too long. There’s always been something about her that’s called to me, she’s always felt like something more. It took a bit of self-reflection (and some interesting reading which landed right in my lap) for me to realize it. Over the years, my feelings for her have gradually grown until it finally dawned on me—like a fucking anvil falling from the sky, as if I were Wile E. Coyote in a Looney Tunes cartoon—that I have feelings for Eastlyn Hatfield. And it’s time I make them known. This time around, Eastlyn Hatfield will be mine.

  Permanently.

  “Pick up already, asswipe,” I mumble into my cell.

  “Inkredible. This is Keaton.”

  Finally.

  “Fucker. Answer your damn cell much?” I hiss, annoyed.

  “Coy, man, what’s up? Saw you called my cell again. Was in the middle of a job.”

  “Figured. I need to talk to you about something. You got a few?” I ask, hearing the quaking in my voice as my nerves start to ramp up. It’s confession time.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, great. Actually, I have some news.”

  “Let me switch to my office extension, then we can talk. I got about twenty before my next appointment.”

  “Glad business is good,” I tell him honestly. It’s been over a year since Keaton opened the doors at Inkredible, and from what I hear from him and others, it’s quickly becoming the hottest tattoo shop in Guelph and the surrounding area.

  “You still there?” he asks.

  “Yup, I’m here. You’re a hard man to track down,” I chuckle. “I figured calling the shop’s landline might do the trick.”

  “See? Always knew if the teaching didn’t pan out, detective work might.”

  “There’s still time.” I sit on my couch, propping my feet on the coffee table. “So, business is growing?”

  “It’s been surreal.”

  “That’s awesome, man. I’m proud of you. I knew it would be a success.”

  “So, what’s up? You said you had some news. Good, I hope?”

  “I think so. I’m moving back on the first of July. I’ve accepted the principal’s position at Westwood Elementary,” I say.

  “That’s fantastic news,” Keaton says, sounding genuinely happy. “That’s Eastlyn and Kami’s school. You realize that, don’t you?”

 
I sure did. Thus the appeal, but I kept that kernel of knowledge to myself. “I do. That’s the part I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “I’m listening,” he croons. I hear the amusement in his voice.

  “Your sister…”

  “What about her?”

  “I have a favour to ask,” I say, running my hand over my face, itching the stubble I’ve let grow in over the last few months.

  “Shoot. I’ll help if I can.”

  “Okay. Just…don’t tell her I’m moving home, or the part about me taking the job. It’s all still kind of hush-hush. I guess the old principal hasn’t announced that she’s retiring yet, and I want to surprise Eastlyn.”

  “And what else?” Keaton probes, knowing me too well.

  “I’m coming back for her, man. And I want you to know my intentions.” I reach for my beer and take a long draught, waiting for him to call me an asshole. Instead, Keaton lets out a loud snicker.

  “Oh yeah? You decided it’s time, then, eh?” he asks, and I clear my throat, not sure exactly what he’s getting at. “…Coy?”

  “I’m still here. I’m just not sure what you mean.”

  “Let me spell it out for you. It’s about fucking time is what I’m getting at. You and East have been pussyfooting around one another for years.”

  “I guess it takes one to know one, eh?” I retort, and I have no doubt he knows I’m referring to him and Kami.

  “Not sure what you’re getting at, brother, but we’re talking about you right now, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I guess we are. So, bottom line?”

  “Bottom line is I’m happy for you, and, honestly, I can’t wait to see this play out. She’s denied her feelings about you for years, so this should make for a lot of fun. I think she likes you almost as much as she hates you.”

  “I have a plan,” I say.

  “I never doubted that you did. Just glad you’re finally realizing the obvious. And for what it helps, I’ll keep my mouth shut, even though East is gonna kick my ass when she finds out I knew.”

  “Thanks, brother,” I laugh, knowing she’ll totally kick both our asses. “We good? I have your blessing?”

  “You do. And I know a certain set of parents that will be over the moon if this works out in your favour, too.”

  “Good. I’m banking on it. Thanks, Keat.”

  “Any time, bro. Just don’t fuck her over. I’ll have to kick your ass, otherwise.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I say truthfully, taking another sip of beer, the crisp taste settling my nerves.

  “Good. I’ll see you soon. Keep me posted about the move. I’ll make sure I’m free on the day to give you a hand.”

  “Will do. And thanks. This was easier than I thought.”

  “Like I said, it’s about fucking time.” He lets out a deep laugh. “Hmm, I guess I’ve had more time to adjust to the idea of you with my sister than you have…”

  “Right. Later, man.”

  “Ciao,” he says, hanging up.

  And now I’m an even more determined son of a bitch.

  “I’m coming for the win, Miss Hatfield, and you are my prize,” I promise, finishing off the last of my beer, firmly banging down the bottle on the tabletop.

  3

  Clowning Around

  “You’re so going to cry. I’ll bet you dinner on Wednesday at trivia you’ll bawl,” Kami says to Eastlyn, causing me to stifle a laugh as I agree. I think Eastlyn is crazy for putting herself through this.

  “Whatever. It can’t be that bad,” Eastlyn says, just as a young girl comes running back through the line with tears streaming down her face. “Shit,” she mutters, causing me to feel a bit guilty for laughing.

  When it comes to clowns, Eastlyn Hatfield suffers from complete and total coulrophobia—the Latin term they use to refer to a severe fear of the red-nosed, big-shoed fuckers. I have no idea how we managed to convince her to go inside the Clowns at Midnight Experience, which is supposed to be one of the scariest Halloween-themed attractions this amusement park has ever offered for the season.

  Me, Keaton, and a few other guy friends have been coming to Halloween Haunt at Canada’s Wonderland for years. Even when I was living in Brockville, I always made the trip in, turning it into a guys’ weekend.

  This year, however, Brody and Philip couldn’t make it, so Keaton invited his sister and Kami to join us. Ever since that night Eastlyn and I’d spent chatting in the gym when she banged her head, things have been pretty good between us, so I was happy the girls agreed to come. I’ll admit, though, I’m definitely surprised that East is putting on such a brave front and even considering attempting to go into this house of twisted circus horror. I admire her balls, but because I’m such a bastard, rather than tell her, I choose to goad her like the others.

  “We’re in the next group, Sprinkles. Last chance to chicken out. You sure you don’t want to save your panties? Not sure they sell spares here,” I say up close against her ear, and I love the way her breath hitches at my proximity. It’s a sound she’s given me occasionally over the years; one I’d taken for granted, never realizing the sweet sound’s significance until it was too late. After all, I’d been with Lola, and I was moving hours away.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not stupid. We’d crossed the line a couple of times, neared the point of no return, but those times where it could have escalated were times we’d both been drinking, and we never talked about it afterwards. For me, I had a lot to consider about the aftermath if I were to pursue her—my friendship with Keaton for one thing, and the fact that David and Katie were basically my second parents who trusted me with their daughter. How could I have crossed the line and risked losing them all?

  But now—all bets are off. I have Keaton’s support, and he said I don’t have to worry about his parents. So now, years later, being the prick I am, I’m going to take full advantage of my strengths, like a fallen superhero who uses his powers for his own gain. When I tease her with my nearness, subtle touches, and whispered innuendoes, I know for a fact Ms. Eastlyn Hatfield enjoys having me in her space as much as I like being there. And I plan to exploit and explore the shit out of that knowledge.

  “You’re such a jerk.” She elbows me, then leans up. I lean down, allowing her to whisper into my ear. “I guess I’ll just have to go commando then, eh? Shame.” She bats her lashes seductively before walking ahead to catch up to Kam and Keaton, who are a few paces away. My eyes are immediately drawn to her tight, denim-covered ass thanks to the sexy sway she’s added to torture me. I don’t know what I want to do more—laugh or moan. Touché, Sprinkles, touché. Having the girls here with us has been nice. Getting to be near Eastlyn all evening has been more than nice, even if I do see a big case of blue balls coming my way. Especially if she keeps this shit up.

  Keaton and Kami being here together is also working in my favour. They are the perfect guise to help get myself closer to Eastlyn, and funnily enough, it seems she and I have been both playing the same game. All night we’ve been making the excuse that Keaton and Kami probably want to ride together, and we’ve both agreed in secret how good we are playing matchmakers, incognito. Little does Eastlyn realize I could give a fuck about them and that I had every intention to be by her side throughout the whole night, regardless. I’d already told Keaton so hours earlier when we were on our way to pick up the girls. Of course, he agreed to be my wingman, again warning me not to fuck up and, of course, not admitting how the plan would also work out perfectly for him, as he’d get to be near Kami all night.

  Basically, we’re a foursome of denial and way too much history. Something has got to give sooner or later, and I’m hoping it will be Eastlyn giving in to the idea of us.

  “You’re gonna cry,” Kami says in a creepy voice as I approach.

  “I hate you guys. Nice support,” Eastlyn says.

  “Oh, I’ll support you, chicken. You can lean on me the whole time,” I say, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush to
my chest. Keaton and Kami both laugh. My dick jumps, and her perfect ass aligns up almost perfectly to the movement. Too bad she doesn’t stay put long enough to enjoy what could be hers.

  Whipping around, she gives me a dirty look and says, “Stop messing, Coy. I’m fine. I can do this. I’m not going to cry, guys,” she says, turning to eye the three of us. “I’m not that afraid of them,” she adds, pushing her finger into my chest, but I don’t miss the way her eyes go wide as yet another burst of crazed laughter followed by an ear-piercing scream echoes from inside the circus-themed haunted house.

  “Are you sure, little sis? I heard Pennywise, from It is in there. Maybe he’s waiting just for you…” Keaton taunts, to teach her for showcasing her bravado. “Hell, I bet if you let him get close enough to you, he’ll wanna suck face,” he adds, winking in her direction, before adding some Hannibal Lecter tongue gestures and sound effects.

  “You’re such an ass. Leave her be,” Kami chides, before Eastlyn or I can say a word. I agree, we’ve ribbed her enough. “Come on,” Kami says, grabbing Keaton by the waist and tugging him forward in line, leaving a now visibly shaken Eastlyn with me.

  “I was just messin’…” Keaton defends himself. Apparently, Pennywise jokes are a hard limit for Eastlyn as well as Kami.

  “Sorry, I’ll keep him up here with me,” Kami calls over her shoulder as she pulls him away. I see he’s now leaned in close to her, talking into her ear. Kami’s face lights up, and I roll my eyes. Sure, he’s unaffected, all right.