Page 64 of Sexting the Coach
When she emerges from between the little crowd of bodyguards, she surprises me by throwing her arms around me, pulling back, smiling like we’re old friends, instead of exes. Like she didn’t serve me divorce papers while she was overseas in England, filming a new movie. As though she didn’t bring our years-long marriage to a stuttering halt with little to no warning.
Of course, she’s gorgeous. Long, shining brown hair. Thick expressive eyebrows. A coffee held loosely in her left hand, which is covered in rings. It occurs to me that Elsie doesn’t wear rings like Leda, that her hand is always soft and ready to hold. Leda’s rings are like the spines on a cactus, keeping anyone from getting too close.
“It’s good to see you,” Leda says, grabbing her sunglasses and propping them up on her head. “I’m glad you’re still coming here.”
“Are you finished commenting on my relationship?” I ask, surprised at myself when the words come out of my mouth.
After she’d said all that shit to the press about Elsie being too young for me, I’d wanted to call her and tell her to fuck off. But I was sure the phone number I had for her would just take me to her assistant, and Tamra had warned us against any retaliation.
So, I said nothing.
But right here, staring at the woman who sent those fucking paparazzo to Elsie’s place, scared her out of her mind, disturbed her peace—I wanted to know what the fuck she was thinking.
“I mean, Weston,” Leda laughs, pushing some of her hair over her shoulder and leveling me with a pitying look. “I know you’re still grieving what we had together, but I’m not sure somegirlis the best rebound for you.”
“What I do in my personal life is none of your fucking business,” I growl, wanting to step closer to her, but knowing it’s not a good idea, not with the crowd of bodyguards around her.“And, besides, you’re literally engaged to a manyoungerthan Leda.”
“That’s different,” Leda says, waving her hand dismissively. “And you know it, Weston.”
Leda has seven years on me, which isn’t as broad as the difference between Elsie and I, but still had more of an impact than I ever realized when I was young and impressionable. We started dating when I was just twenty, cutting my NCAA career short and moving right into the NHL.
“How is it different?”
“Well, first, that’s just for show. He and I are in a show together?—”
“Yeah,” I scoff, because I know all about it, having read through articles about it before. “You’re playing hismother. And you’re trying to be all high and mighty about this shit.”
Her eyes go hard, “It’s unbecoming when men date younger women. What, do you want to be a Leonardo DiCaprio?”
All at once, something occurs to me, and I bark out a laugh, realization washing over me. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not?—”
“You said all that shit about my relationship because you didn’t want me moving on,” I say, realizing that each time I’ve made a move to date someone new, there’s always been shit in the press. Enough bother than I didn’t want to deal with it. “You’ve been fucking with me this whole time.”
It doesn’t make sense that the press would care so much about my relationships. But someone like Leda certainly has the power to influence them to bother me.
“That’s ridiculous,” she snaps, but she puts her sunglasses back on, and I know it’s the truth. She’s been siccing the press on me, and for what? It’s not likeI’mthe one who wanted the divorce.
As she turns to leave, I speak up, raising my voice, “You know, even people who sign NDAs can still talk, Leda. Maybe I’m starting to not give a fuck about a lawsuit.”
She pauses for a moment but doesn’t look back at me. We were married for years, and I know there are a lot of things she would never want coming out about her.
When she and her bodyguards are gone, I’m left standing in the middle of the flowers, breathing hard, trying to grapple with the reality of how Leda has been affecting me all this time.
For a second, I think about showing up outside Elsie’s apartment. Going to her. Insisting that we talk about this.
But she ran away when I brought up things being real between us. It’s not a good idea to follow her. Especially not when Leda could snap her fingers and send the press swarming back in a second.
There are so many reasons I should leave her alone. But I can’t stop thinking about her, can’t shake the feeling that letting go of her so easily would be the biggest mistake of my life.
I’m usually a pretty decisive guy.
But right now, I have no fucking clue what the next move should be.
Chapter 27
Elsie
