This month in the First Time feature, we’ve got first argument. So, I picked Will and Ivy, from In Bounds aka The Sportsball Book.
The screaming sound of an air horn woke Ivy from a dead sleep, and she pushed up on her elbow, searching for the asshole making the noise. Squinting, in the bright morning light, she saw Will in the chair near her bed, eyes closed and head tilted awkwardly to the side in sleep, oblivious to his phone pulsing angrily on the little table between them. She grabbed the device and tried to figure out how to silence the stupid thing. She slid her finger across the screen, and the sound ceased, leaving an almost ringing silence in her ears.
As she shifted the phone in her hand to return it to the bedside table, her thumb bumped the text icon, and a message from someone named Peyton popped up. It was a photo of what looked like a riding crop on a white bedspread and the message, Wanna play? in the text bubble beneath. Her mouth dropped open, and an involuntary gasp escaped—equal parts rage and arousal. She glanced up to find Will watching her with sleepy-looking green eyes.
She threw off the suddenly too-warm covers and sat up. “Are you fucking serious with this?” she demanded.
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific, love. I’m not sure I’m quite awake, yet.”
She turned his phone to face him. “How fucking dare you proposition me when you have a girlfriend? And how fucking dare you try to screw around on her behind her back?!” She pushed to her feet and tossed his phone at him. “I didn’t think you were that much of an asshole. Clearly, I’m a terrible judge of character. And to think…”
“And to think what?” he demanded, looking far more awake than he had moments earlier.
She shook her head and stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door. “Never mind.”
After she brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face, Ivy stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked hideous—blotchy blue and purple, but no real swelling, thank goodness. It seemed all the ice packs had helped. But as she studied her image, she was more concerned about the tears burning her eyes.
She couldn’t believe Will would be shitty enough to cheat on his girlfriend. Though, why that thought was so hard to swallow, she had no idea. Daniel certainly hadn’t had any trouble fucking around on her, and they’d been married. She sighed. If she were being honest with herself, she’d wanted to believe the man who’d taken such tender care of her and who’d seemed attracted to her was genuine. Instead, he was just another asshole. She knew there were good guys out there, but Will obviously wasn’t one of them. And the sooner she came to terms with that, the better off she’d be.
Unfortunately, now, all she could do was imagine his hand wrapped around the handle of the crop as he brought it down on a bare ass. And since she had no clue what Peyton looked like, it was all too easy to imagine herself in that position. For fuck’s sake, she needed to get a grip.
Yanking open the bathroom door, she stopped dead, fingers clenched on the knob. Will blocked her way, his palms braced against the doorframe.
She forced herself to lift her head and meet his gaze. “I get that you’re down to fuck anything that moves, but I’m not interested.”
They glared at each other, until she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Move.”
“Just as soon as you hear what I have to say.”
“If you’re going to tell me that she’s one of those sportsball cleat chasers, save it.”
“I assume you mean football and WAG wannabes.”
Her fist tightened on the door handle. “Whatever.”
“And Peyton? A WAG wannabe?” He snorted. “Hardly.” His smile faded, and he held Ivy motionless with his hooded gaze. “Also, she’s not my girlfriend.”
Ivy didn’t say anything.
“She’s my friend,” he continued. “Has been since uni. And yes, when neither of us are seeing other people, we sometimes have sex.” He tilted his head to the side, slightly, his gaze boring into hers. “We both have…similar interests.”
There was that mental image of him using a crop on her own willing ass again. Her gaze drifted to his hands, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he ever covered Peyton’s mouth when she came. A tiny shiver worked through her, and once again, she forced herself to meet his eyes.
“So, no,” he bit out. “When I’m with someone, I don’t sleep around, and I wouldn’t—not even for you.”
Not even for her? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“I realize that your knob of an ex didn’t offer you that same courtesy, so I’ll cut you some slack for jumping to that conclusion about me.”
Her cheeks flushed with heat.
“I don’t blame you for being angry with him—just do me a favor and don’t take it out on me, okay?”
She took a deep breath, blinking back the stupid tears that burned her eyes. She didn’t think she had any tears left for Daniel. She wasn’t even sure they were for him. At this point, she might just be feeling sorry for herself. “You’re right—I made some pretty big assumptions. I’m sorry.”
Will’s expression softened. “I get it. I do. When your trust is broken that badly, it’s easy to think everyone sucks.”
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she glanced away. “And I’m sorry I looked at something that was private. It wasn’t intentional, but it’s still unacceptable.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulder lift. “It happens. Just so we’re both clear here, I’m about to be very direct.” He paused, waiting until she looked at him. “I’m just as attracted to you as I was twelve years ago.” He shook his head, a rueful grin lifting his lips. “No. More. Much more. So, if the feeling is mutual, and you’re looking to fuck your ex out of your system, I’m available.”
Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ first arguments by clicking on their names.