Page 44 of Shoot Your Shot

“Well, yeah.” I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be scared? He mentally checked out on me during our marriage. That’d screw with anyone’s head.”

Her eyes move from mine to behind me, and she cringes. “Well, your night is about to get more interesting,” she utters. “Don’t look now, but Brady Gilley just walked up to him. And you know as well as I do, that boy loves to piss Kolt off.”

Turning slowly, I look over my shoulder and find Brady standing beside Kolt. Right away, Kolt’s shoulders go rigid, and his jaw tenses.

“Great,” I whisper, letting out a long sigh.

“Five … four …” my mom says under her breath, and I know what’s about to happen. “Three—oh boy, this is not good.”

Before she can get to two, I bolt for the exit in the gymnasium that leads into the school. If I can go into a restroom, even for a little while, maybe it will all blow over.

A few months ago, Brady happened to be in Boothbay, and I ran into him in town. We got to talking, and he asked if I’d go to dinner with him that night.

Brady is the one guy I had a crush on before Kolt came to town and blew any other guy out of the water, as far as I was concerned. But years ago, I made the mistake of telling Kolt about my first crush, and since then, he’s hated the guy.

And Brady has never been too fond of Kolt either. So, there’s no way Brady is missing this opportunity to boast to Kolt that he took his wife out on a date.

As I rush toward the restroom at the end of the hallway, I hear footsteps behind me, and I know I’m never going to make it there. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Kolt. His face is red, and his eyes are dark.

Fuck my life.

“Tell me why fuckface BradyfuckingGilley just said he was surprised to see us together tonight because a few months ago, you two had gone on afuckingdate! Are you serious?” I roar, taking huge steps and catching up to her quickly as she attempts to rush toward the women’s restroom.

“Are you fucking serious, Paige?” I continue to yell like a madman, stalking close behind her with my fists balled at my sides.

“BradyfuckingGilley?” I say again, even louder.

Every single part of my body shakes with anger, growing more intense when his smug smirk plays in my head repeatedly. I wanted to drop that motherfucker right then and there, but we are here for Mr. Wells, so I knew I had to contain my rage.

“Really? How desperate were you to get some dick? You went on a date?”

I expect her to keep walking, and I fully plan to throw her over my shoulder and force her to give me some answers, but instead, she whirls around, her face beet red with rage—or maybe embarrassment.

“Yes, you fucking peckerhead!” she yells.

It’s been a good while since she called me that. I think the last time I heard her say that word was one of the nights I came home drunk after ignoring her messages.

“Of course I’ve been on dates! We’ve been separated for a year and a half! And God knows you’ve been on enough of them.”

Quickly, she turns back around and starts walking again.

“But Gilley? Are you serious?” I follow behind her, getting close enough that I can almost grab her to spin her around.

When she whips around, her hair smacks her face. “What’s. Wrong. With. Gilley?”

Her words send my head rearing back, and my eyes get huge and angry. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s a major tool?”

“Fuck you, Kolt,” she spews. “The only tool in this building tonight is you.” As she sasses me, her nostrils flare, and her neck flushes.

I’m so fucking pissed, and yet … my cock twitches when I see her this way. Knowing that, in seconds, I could be hate-fucking her against a desk in our old classroom. Make-up sex is so fucking underrated, and I’m a sick fuck because I’ve always loved to piss her off and then bury my cock inside her after.

“Says the woman who went on a date while she’s still married,” I growl. “You’re living in a glass house. Be careful throwing those stones, baby girl.”

“Adate?” she hisses before laughing bitterly. “Oh, no,superstar, I went on multiple dates. Many dates.Loadsof fucking dates!” She screams the last part through gritted teeth, smoking like a teapot.

“What the fuck, Paige?” I bark, matching her fury. When she tries to turn around, I grab her arm, spinning her back toward me. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you fucking talk to me. Me. Yourfuckinghusband.”

Her chest rises before she inhales sharply. “You didn’t even come after me!” she screeches suddenly. “You didn’t even try to stop me from leaving either!”

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