Page 23 of It's Complicated

In retaliation, he stomped on my foot.

“Ow,” I said, more as a reflex than because it hurt.

He kept his foot on mine and pressed down. “Big baby.”

“I’m not the one who has to resort to playing footsie with me to win.”

“No, you just need to cheat.” He ground his foot on mine, not hard enough to cause real pain, but enough to be distracting.

“Come on, gramps, try to keep up,” I sing-songed, yanking my foot free from his.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, his fingers flying over the controller as our avatars battled it out on screen.

The next few minutes were a blur of childish insults, elbow and shoulder checks, and a few knee smashes until we were at the edge of our seats, my left leg tangled with his right one and our arms linked in an attempt to make the other lose their grip on their controller.

“He shoots, he scores!” Jamie shouted in victory when the puck flew past my goalie’s glove and into the net.

The lamp over the goal flashed and spun, the horn buzzing obnoxiously as the fake crowd cheered.

“What was that about smoking my ass with your fancy moves and leaving me in the dust?” He shot me a triumphant grin and pointed to the screen with his controller. “Who smoked who?”

“I let you have that one.”

“Sure you did.”

We were still sitting pressed up against each other, our arms and legs linked like we were in a human chain.

Just to be annoying, I stomped on his foot.

He laughed and smashed his elbow into my side.

The impact wasn’t enough to hurt, but my body instinctively recoiled to protect my organs, a leftover instinct from my player days, bending at the waist and using my shoulder to push him back.

The move put my head right next to his, my chin almost on his shoulder.

Jamie twisted away, shifting so he sat sideways on the couch and slid backward to get some leverage at the same moment I sat up straight.

Now our faces were only inches apart, our arms and legs still locked together.

Jamie lurched forward, his chest hitting mine. The move destabilized me, and we tumbled onto the couch in a heap.

My back hit the cushions, but before I could even bounce on the springy surface, Jamie landed on me with a dullthud, the impact hard enough to force the breath from my lungs.

We lay there for a stunned second and then we were both moving, wiggling, and trying to keep hold of each other’s limbs to get control.

I managed to pull my leg free, but Jamie slipped out of the hold I had on his arm a second later.

It wasn’t unusual for us to end up grappling when we playedEnforcers, and my adrenaline-filled brain didn’t even register that I was hard until something poked me in the thigh.

Jamie’s cock.

We both froze, our fight paused as we stared at each other in shock.

Awareness seeped into every part of my being, little crackles of electricity detonating on my skin everywhere we touched.

We’d ended up with me on my back, one leg stretched out over the arm of the couch and the other on the ground beside it. Jamie was on top of me, one knee jammed between my hip and the back of the couch, the other stretched behind him for balance.

His hands shackled my wrists, pinning them next to my ears, and his face hovered only inches above mine.

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