Page 43 of A Little Complicated

“For not treating me with kid gloves.” Her smile softens. “Honestly, it’s one of my favorite things about you,” she continues. When I frown, she clarifies, “Everyone treats me with kid gloves. My parents. Archer. Everyone but you.”

She pushes to her feet and skates toward the bench, peeking over her shoulder at me. “You coming?”

I nod, forcing my legs to hold my weight as I grab the goalpost and stand. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

“You sure you’re okay?” she asks.

I chuckle dryly. “You’re not the only one who took a break the last few weeks, Opie.”

With an understanding nod, she continues toward the bench. “Coach Sanderon’s gonna love that.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna kick my ass if I can’t get back into shape by the time the season starts,” I grunt.

“But it’s a problem for future Maverick, right?” She bats her lashes and skates backward, keeping her eyes on me as I make my way toward her.

“Sure, it is,” I mutter. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Okay.”

13

MAVERICK

My gym bag lands with a thud on the granite countertop beside Reeves. We just finished at the gym, and my body is screaming at me. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Ophelia, thanks to Archer being home. The distance has been for the best despite me missing the shit out of her. It reminds me of the weeks following prom, only this time, she hasn’t texted. Hasn’t thought of me the way I’ve been thinking about her. I’ve been attempting to distract myself with the gym, a doctor’s appointment, and a few long rides up the canyon on my bike. But they’ve done shit to quiet the voices in my head.

Reaching for a glass in the cabinet, I fill it with water from the fridge.

“Dude, those deadlifts kicked my ass today,” Reeves says, bending at the waist and touching his toes, stretching out his lower back and hamstrings. “I dunno how I’m gonna mow the lawn now.”

I gulp down the ice-cold water and set it on the counter, stretching my arms over my head and rolling my shoulders. “Maybe if you hadn’t procrastinated for the past two weeks, the grass wouldn’t be such a bitch to mow today.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Reeves mutters. He glances out the half-open blinds and looks at the overgrown grass in the backyard, but his glower lifts. Spreading the blinds wider, his attention catches on something, and he smirks. With a low whistle, he looks at me and back through the window. “Have you seen this yet?” he asks.

I walk over to him and look outside, and my pulse stalls. Right there, in the middle of the backyard, is a half-naked Ophelia. She’s lying on a checkered blanket, probably attempting to tan the creamy skin on full display in spandex shorts and a sports bra. Both of which leave little to the imagination. Lying on her stomach with a book in front of her, she flips the page, oblivious to us checking her out. Then again, she’s always oblivious when it comes to guys watching her. The girl has no idea how fucking tempting she is. Like right now. Looking all innocent and shit. Her elbows are bent as she rests her chin in her hands, smiling at whatever she’s reading.

“Looks like I found a reason to mow the lawn sooner rather than later.” Reeves lets out another whistle. “Fuck, man. That girl’s ass is fine.”

I slap his hands away from the blinds and step in front of the window, crossing my arms. “You’ve been putting mowing the lawn off for a week and a half.”

His brows bounce up and down. “Guess it’s time I get busy, right?”

“Trade weeks with me.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He starts to step around me, but I block his way. “Trade. Weeks. With me,” I repeat.

“And miss out on the view?” He laughs. “Why would I?”

“Archer wouldn’t want you out there with her.”

“And he’d want you to be?” Reeves laughs again. “No offense, but I’m not an idiot. What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.”

He tilts his head. “You sure?”

“She’s dating my brother,” I remind him. “You really think I’m that much of a dick?”

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