Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance Read Online Free Page B

into the car. Watching him contort into a pretzel lightens my mood. I do my best to suppress a laugh before I close the car door. He says nothing, but he’s lost the smirk in favor of a one-sided curl to his lip in a snarl that says more than enough.
    When I turn on the car, Shania Twain blasts through the speakers as if she were pulling out the words from my head. It was something about what doesn’t keep her warm in the middle of the night.
    The drive isn’t that long, and the song ends just as I pull up to the remarkable farmhouse. It’s always been the envy of everyone in town. It’s a stately looking two-story farmhouse with a wrap-around porch and many windows to let in light.
    “Nothing ever did impress you,” Fletcher murmurs.
    The temperature in the car takes a nosedive, and it has nothing to do with the air outside. Therefore, watching him uncurl himself from my car isn’t as funny as it should have been.
    “Thanks,” he mutters once he’s out.
    The door shuts, and I feel like I should say something. In fact, when he stumbles, I jet out of the car, realizing my mistake for not helping him out in the first place. But I’d been lost in his big brown eyes, which looked so innocent when I knew differently.
    “Are you okay?”
    He glares at me. “I would have been better off walking home.”
    When he rubs at his knee, I tuck myself under his arm and help support his weight. Together, we make it to the house. Once inside, I’m hit with a wave of memories.
    “I can do it.” He tries to shrug me off.
    “Where are you headed?” I ask, remaining as stubborn as he is. If he’s going upstairs, I’m going to help him get there. I can’t have the big guy fall and rupture his knee again on my watch.
    “Now?” After I nod, he says, “I’d planned to eat, but that’s not in the cards anymore, is it?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “I’m going upstairs to take a hot bath and hope that my knee loosens up. If you’re not planning to play nurse and give me a sponge bath, you can go. You’ve done enough.”
    “Play nurse? You either sound five and I’m past playing doctor or you’re eighty and need a nursing home.” He just glares at me. “Besides, I’m sure one of your millions of groupies you have on social media would love to play nurse with you.”

 
    Fletcher
     
     
    One thing hasn’t changed—Cassie’s ability to give me a snarky response. Instead of it pissing me off, it does the opposite. I find myself reminiscing about our days back when and how she used to make me laugh. I must have a goofy grin on my face because of her next question.
    “You think that’s funny? That I’m joking?”
    “Not at all. I happen to like your spunk.”
    “ Spunk? I basically tell you to get your groupies to help you out, and you like that?”
    Rolling my good shoulder back, I lift it a little. “What can I say? I missed that about you.” I head up the stairs, one by one, because there’s nothing left to add.
    When I’m midway up the flight, she says, “Hey, you need some ice, too.”
    I don’t bother turning around. “You know where the freezer is. The baggies are in the drawer right where they always were.”
    The large whirlpool tub that Mom insisted on adding upstairs is at the end of the hall. At this point, I don’t give a shit if Cass sees me naked. My luck—what luck? There is no such thing for me anymore. She can deal with it or not. I don’t really give a fuck at this point. The chances of her staying are slim either way. One thing I know for sure now is that she’s just as unattached as I am. And that thought warms me more than the water I fill the tub with. As I strip to my skivvies, my knee aches like a motherfucker. I take a seat and wait for the water level to reach the point where the jets can be turned on.
    Footsteps precede her voice. “Fletcher, you need to—”
    She’s not looking at my face. Or my chest. Or my shoulder for that matter. Her gaze is targeted on