Athica Lane: The Carpino Series by Brynne Asher Read Free Book Online

people, the police found half of a pound of marijuana and a small bag of Rohypnol on him. 
    What a clusterfuck.
    As talented as my star QB is, he’s dumber than a box of rocks and thinks he can do whatever he wants without consequence because he can throw a pigskin with acute accuracy.  It doesn’t hurt that I’ve trained his receivers well, making him look good.  He’s always skating on thin ice with low grades, barely keeping him eligible to stay on the field.  As the years click by, and he’ll be a senior this coming fall, I’ve heard he’s been partying it up more than ever. 
    Last night made it official, getting caught and having his ass carted to jail for underage drinking and possession of drugs.  He’s lucky he doesn’t turn eighteen until October, but who knows if they’ll charge him as an adult.  Just because he’s got some big name colleges looking at him, he thinks he’s immune to the law.  I remember what it was like being recruited by those same colleges, but there was no way my parents would allow me to act like an entitled jackwad. 
    I wanted to bench him the first half of the season.  He was caught underage drinking with pot and the date rape drug, for fuck’s sake.  The Principal and Athletic Director overruled me, insisting on allowing him to come to summer training and benching him for the first three weeks of the season, practice and games.  Gheer’s parents begged and pleaded with administration to go easy on him.  His shit deserves worse, who knows if he’ll learn his lesson.
    I look at my watch and realize I’m hours late picking up the kids from Sophia’s sister.  Thinking about Paige Carpino for some reason makes me shake my head, pisses me off and makes me hard all at the same time.
    She surprised the shit out of me Monday when she swung the door open and it was the same woman who walked into me last week and ended up wearing my drink.  And I can’t help but remember just how well she wore it.  I know I was in a bad mood that day dealing with my accountant over business from The Shed, but I can’t say I felt bad about ruining her shirt.  She gave me an eyeful, and even though she’s about as big as a minute, the eyeful she gave me was fucking perfect. 
    But her throwing attitude with me the last couple days proves just what a pain in the ass she probably really is.  And hell if the sight of her, topped with her attitude, doesn’t have a bizarre effect on me.  An effect I can’t decide if I like or not.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget her pissed-off, wearing my drink with her shirt plastered to her body giving me every clue what she has to offer.  Her being a wiseass over text with me today calling me “Just Cam” pissed me off too, but hell if it didn’t make me smile at the same time. 
    Don’t get me started on her hair, and fuck me, when she smiles at my kids she’s downright gorgeous.  I have the itching desire to bury my hand in her head of long dark wavy hair to feel if it’s as heavy as it looks.  All those curves with that tiny waist, the hair, topped with her fiery attitude?  I can’t get her out of my head.
    There’s something wrong with me.  I guess it’s been too long since I’ve had a woman.  My hand isn’t gonna cut it much longer.  But it’s impossible to meet a woman who isn’t a bar tramp or skank when I have my kids all but four days a month.  And if I have another single-mom cougar hit on me during a parent teacher conference, sporting event, or hell, even at The Shed, I’ll come undone.  I don’t shit where I live and the last things I need are parents or clients running their mouths about me or my business.  I’ve seen it happen to others.  It’s not worth the lay, no matter how tempting.
    Shit, I can’t even have a one night stand three states away with an old fling.  I tried that months ago when I was home with the kids to visit and have paid the price ever since.  I dated Carrie in high school and