Page 10 of Playing the Player

There’s something different about Conor. Beneath all the jokes and the smiles, there’s something else. Every now and then, when he thought I wasn’t looking, something darker flickered behind those blue eyes. Sadness, loneliness. It’s something he keeps carefully hidden.

And I think the only reason I recognized it is because I do exactly the same thing.

“Thank you for dinner.” I tell Conor when we step back into the warm evening air. “It was really good.”

“Yeah, I could tell you liked it.” He smirks and my cheeks instantly heat under his gaze.

“Oh, shut up.” I shoot back, smacking his arm playfully.

The streets are surprisingly busy for a Monday night. This place is usually dead after 7pm, especially on the week nights. But groups of people spill out of the bars and restaurants lining the sidewalk, their laughter echoing in the busy street.

A large group of drunk men come stumbling towards us as we walk back towards my apartment, their eyes lingering on me for far longer than they should. I’m used to this, it’s just another perk of being a woman, not, but from beside me, Conor turns rigid. His jaw is tight and his hands ball into fists at his sides.

Without thinking, I reach my hand out to his, interlocking our fingers and give him a reassuring squeeze. He looks down at our joined hands before lifting his gaze to mine. The anger in his expression softens instantly and he keeps his eyes trained on me instead of the men who are getting closer to us.

“What was that for?” He asks me quietly.

“Just didn’t want you wandering off.” The lie tastes sour on my tongue.

“You think I’m gonna get lost or something?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I mumble in response. We pass the group of men without so much as a scratch, but still, I haven't let go of Conor’s hand. I don’t want to. And that thought scares the hell out of me.

With Max, I never wanted to hold his hand or cuddle or do all that cute shit. He gave me a kiss on the cheek every morning before we went to work and then one again when we both got home. It was simple and I was happy with that. I thought that was what I wanted, but now, after one not-date with Conor, I want to do all those little things with him.

The walk back to my apartment passed in a peaceful silence. It’s not awkward but comfortable. It’s the kind of silence that doesn’t need to be filled just for the sake of talking.

Unfortunately, it ended far too soon. I never want this night to end. That was the best non-date I’ve ever had in my life.

“I had a great time with you, Angel.” Conor says as we reach my door.

“So did I.” I smile up him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you call me Angel?” He’s been using the nickname all day and my curiosity piques even more every time I hear it.

“Because I like it.” He says, his usual grin plastered across his face but there’s something else. A vulnerability in his blue eyes and I can feel it settle in the chest.

“That’s not the real reason,” His smile falters, but only for a second. “Will you tell me someday?”

“I will.” His smile is back in full force, showing off the small dimple at the right side of his mouth. The urge to run my fingers over it is so strong, it takes a serious amount of self-restraint not to.

This man is so damn attractive. Blonde hair that looks intentionally messy but works, blue eyes that seem to change color depending on his mood, a smile capable of breaking through all the walls I have built around my heart and a body sculpted from stone. Plus, he towers over me by almost a foot. I’ll be needing a neck massage tonight after tipping my head up to look at him all day.

“This was really fun, Conor. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Sash. I had fun too.” There’s that dimple again! I close my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out and tracing it.

“I know this wasn’t a real date, but it’s the closest I’ve had to one.” I admit, feeling my insecurities bubbling to the surface.

“You mean since the breakup?”

“Nope. Ever.”

His eyes widen, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “What are you talking about? You were in a relationship for years.”

I shrug awkwardly. “Max and I were still young when we first got together.” I tell him, defending a relationship that I’m not even sure was ever real. “There were no first dates or romantic gestures. We kinda just decided that we were together one day and that was that.”