Page 16 of Matched By My Rival
I remembered the moment Simon had dropped down over me, straddling my waist as he yelled into my face. His eyes had been full of rage—but something else too. There and gone. A flash of lust.
Or maybe I was delusional. Simon tore his eyes from me and pretended I wasn’t there. That rankled.
“All right, all helpers are welcome,” he said, keeping his gaze on Darnell. “We’re clearing the yard today. The owner has given us the go-ahead to take all of this stuff to the dump. Tomorrow, we’ll work on the porch to make sure the rails are replaced and there are no safety hazards. Then, my friends, we’ll be scraping and painting this bad boy.” He flung out his arm, like freaking Vanna White displaying the prize. “It’s not a small job, but we’ve got a few weeks to do it. And imagine how great this place can look. The owner, Howard, is actually an alum of Hayworth. He’s worked hard his whole life, but his health isn’t up to this kind of work. He deserves our best, so let’s give it to him.”
Simon continued with directions, assigning jobs to each of the volunteers as they approached, sending them off in different directions. Some to push wheelbarrows, others to bag up trash, and still others to load the work pickup that was parked in the drive. They’d have to make several trips to the dump.
“Where do you want me?” I asked as Darnell and I reached the front of the line.
Simon looked up at Darnell. “D, can you join the guys moving those old appliances in the back? They’re gonna need some more muscle.”
“Sure.” He hesitated. “Want Reed to join me?”
“Nah. I’ve got another job for him.” His dark eyes sliced into me. There was nothing but malice pouring off him now. Not a single hint of attraction. That punch to my face must have knocked a few screws loose. Simon wasn’t hot for me, just hot under the collar.
“Good luck,” Darnell murmured as he left me to my fate.
I smiled broadly. “So, how can I help you, Simon?”
He looked a little startled to hear me say his first name. On the team, we mostly kept to last names and team nicknames. But I liked the way it rolled off my tongue.
“Why are you here,Parker?”
Oh, hell. I liked the way my name rolled offhistongue even more.
I tried to play it cool. Darnell was right. Simon wasn’t ready to kiss and make up.If only he wanted to kiss. That wouldn’t be a hardship.
I cleared my throat. “Coach gave us an ultimatum to volunteer somewhere. So here I am.”
“There’s a lot of places to volunteer.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I liked the sound of this project.” I licked my lips. Despite my bravado, I was nervous. “You did say you could use all the help you could get.”
He groaned. “Yeah, but I didn’t meanyou.”
Okay, that stung. He was shaking his head. Fuck. Was he gonna boot me to the curb? “Thought you said you had a job for me.”
That malicious gleam re-entered his gaze. “You sure you want to stay?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “What happened with us, it was a fluke. I’m not holding a grudge.”
He barked a rough laugh. “That’s great, Parker. Such a fuckingrelief. I’m glad you’re not holding a grudge that my whole fucking life went up in flames and you got to fuckingbenefitfrom it.”
“It wasn’t—I didn’t want—”
“Whatever.” His anger seemed to deflate, there and gone. “Come with me.”
He turned, marching toward the front of the house, so I trailed along, wondering what punishment he had in mind for me. I might not be holding a grudge about taking a fist to the face, but his resentment was as sharp-edged as ever.
I’d wanted to make peace, but the animosity vibrating off him in waves tempted me to knock him on his ass instead. Drop down over him, like he had me the night he’d lost his shit and decked me.
I imagined locking my hands around his throat and giving him a good strangle. It was satisfying. Then I imagined kissing that fucking hard mouth until we were both breathless.
“Climb under there.” Simon slapped a pair of work gloves against my chest and pointed to a small opening under the porch. “You’re about to get dirty.”
Oh, I was already fucking there. But my dirty mind wouldn’t do either of us any favors. When I squirmed under the porch to clear out more trash and rotting food—the must and dust and a fear of creepy-crawlies almost overwhelming me—I wondered what the fuck I’d gotten myself into.
Why did I care if Simon Prentiss hated me? He’d always been a bit of an intense, hot-headed dick. He’d been unfriendly at every turn, calling me out for fucking joking around on the field like it was a fucking crime to have fun.
