Page 14 of Playing the Player

Let me tell you, when I become a big, bestselling author, you can bet your ass I’ll be back in, buying five pairs of those heels, just to show that woman and her stupid, smug face that I can afford them!

I need to go home. I physically cannot carry any more shopping bags. I can only imagine how I look to other people right now. I’m not a tall girl, five foot three or so, and you wouldn’t think it by looking at me, but I have muscle. And let’s be realistic here, I only started the gym to gain more arm strength so that I could carry more shopping bags. And look at me now, all my hard work is paying off.

I have successfully bought enough stuff to have forgotten about those shoes. Those sparkly, heaven in shoe form, leg toning, gorgeous shoes. I’m lying, obviously, but if I tell myself that I have forgotten about them, then I can bring myself to believe it. Maybe.

“Sash?” A deep, familiar voice says, pulling me out of my head. I don’t know why he looks surprised to see me here. I mean, we were together for long enough for him to know I come here every weekend.

“Hi, Max.” I use my friendly customer service voice I use at work but I’m sure it comes out as fake as the smile I’m sporting. “How are you?”

“I’m good. And you?”

“Can’t complain.” I inwardly cringe because I can most definitely complain about my life right now. This is so fucking awkward. We’re just standing here, staring at each other, not one of us saying a word.

He opens his mouth to speak again but then closes it. Another beat of silence passes before he clears his throat. “I, uh…”

Oh, come on! Either say something or walk away. It’s not that hard.

“I saw you got engaged.” I blurt out instead. “Congrats.”

Max clears his throat again, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “Yeah, uh, thanks.” He runs a hand over his shaved head, something he always does when he’s flustered. “And you, are you, uh, seeing anyone?”

Shit, shit, shit.

I have to lie, right? I need to save face. Max doesn't need the satisfaction of knowing I'm sitting at home alone every night, pining for him.

“Actually,” The lie flies from my mouth before I’ve fully committed to it. “I am seeing someone.”

There’s a flicker of disappointment in his boring, grey eyes. I used to love his eyes but looking into them now, I can see how dull they really are.

“Oh.” Is his clipped reply and then we’re drowning in silence again. I want to leave this uncomfortable situation but I can't bring myself to move away from him. “Who is he?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I need to think of someone. Why the hell can I not think of anyone? Chill, woman! I mentally slap myself as I say the first name that pops into my head in a panicked voice, “Conor Matthews.”

“The hockey player?” He looks hurt and that feeling sinks into me. After everything this man has done to me, I still feel guilty for hurting him. And by doing what? ‘Seeing’ someone after we’ve split up?

“Yeah.” I say, quietly.

“You know,” He studies me for a second too long. “I always thought there was something going on between you two when we were together.”

“Why would you think that?” I ask him in an accusatory tone, my defenses rising. I have gone from zero to one hundred in about two seconds and if that doesn’t scream guilty, I don’t know what does.

“You always stared at him when you thought I wasn't looking. Plus, he flirted with you any chance he got.” All I can do is look at this man. I don't deny it, even though nothing really happened. “But then I saw him with another woman, the same way he was towards you and I knew I had nothing to worry about.”

The words sting more than they should. Conor and I are friends. Can we even be considered friends? We went out for dinner once. Although, I can't deny the small hint of disappointment that settles low in my gut at the truth to Max’s words.

I force another smile. “Well, that’s all in the past now. We’re together and we’re happy.”

Max just hums, seeming to think about that. “I haven't seen you two together.”

What do you mean?”

“In the sports news or anything. There’s always some girl hanging off his arm, but I’ve never seen you.”

The defensive walls are building tenfold now. Does he know I'm lying? Is he trying to catch me out? Did poor Max learn nothing in the whole time we were together? I am the most stubborn woman on this planet and I will do whatever is necessary to prove a point.

“Well, I wasn't really wanting to show off my new relationship. I didn't want to hurt you, in case you had seen it, you know?” I shrug with indifference. “We were together for so long, and I didn’t want you to think I threw our whole relationship away so soon.” I'm projecting my own feelings onto him but his impassive face shows me he doesn't give a shit about what he’s done to me.