Page 19 of Playing the Player

“Well, rule one; no physical contact when we’re alone.” I wait for him to agree before I continue. He gives me a slight nod of his head, keeping strangely silent, which isn't like him at all. It’s unsettling. “Two; when we’re in public, physical touch has to be kept to a minimum. Holding hands, hugging, a small peck if necessary.”

“So would you be mad if I slipped you the tongue?” Conor asks, that cocky smirk back on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Yes.” I deadpan, leveling him with the flattest glare I can manage. “Three; No sleeping around. You’re a famous hockey player, everyone knows you and everything about you, it’ll look really bad if someone sees you with a sneaky hookup when we’re supposed to be a couple.”

“Deal but the same rule applies for you.”

“Oh, please. Who would I possibly hook up with?” He opens his mouth but I don’t let him speak as I say my final rule. “Rule four; No feelings. No getting attached.” Conor’s expression changes again, only for a second. It’s barely noticeable. “No getting attached.”

Silence settles between us. He doesn’t argue, but he doesn't agree either. He just watches me. I choose to take that as acceptance. Besides, this is Conor. The man has never had a serious girlfriend in his life. He’s the last person I’d expect to catch feelings.

“How long will this be for?” He asks instead, leaning forward on the couch, elbows pressed to his knees.

“You can break up with me after the party.” I tell him, and then we both laugh when I say, “But, I may need to steal you back for the wedding if I haven't found a real boyfriend by then.”

“I have one rule.” Conor says and I give him a small nod to continue. “No wearing other guys' jerseys. When you’re at my game, you wear my name on your back.”

Warmth creeps up my neck. I had started buying every player’s jersey except Conor last year just to get under his skin. Seeing his reaction every time I was at a game and not wearing his jersey was the funniest thing ever. That was as far as our friendship went. “I didn't think you had noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, Angel.” His voice is quieter, softer. “I’ve always noticed you.”

8

Conor

It was midnight before Sasha finally left my apartment last night. She refused to leave until I had the plan fully memorized in my ‘tiny, pea-sized brain’. She was trying to sound insulting, but I thought it was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. She was not happy when I told her that though, if the scowl and eyeroll had anything to show for it.

We’re keeping our epic love story simple. We met through Olliepop and Josh, instantly wanted to rip each other's clothes off but never acted on it because of Max. Then we bumped into each other one day and one thing led to another and suddenly I was giving her the best sex of her life, ruining all other men for her. From then, she realized she couldn't be apart from me or my huge, orgasm inducing dick and that was that. We fell in love.

I'm sure if you ask Sasha, her version may be a little different but po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

The only thing that we’re both worried about is convincing our friends, specifically Cap and Olivia. They’ve known us for a long time and can read us with their eyes closed.

Sasha came up with the not-so-brilliant plan of having dinner with them tonight while Bella is staying at Diane’s place for the night. It’s a test run to see if we can work as a couple in front of other people, but also to see if other people are buying what we’re selling.

I personally have no issues with making it convincing. If making it look real means I get to hold her and touch her, and look at her like she’s my girlfriend, then I can do that with ease. Hell, I would tear Sasha’s clothes off if that’s what it would take to make people believe this is real.

Actually, I would tear her clothes off anyway. It’s a shame she made all those rules. I would have died a happy man if I got to give her the full girlfriend treatment.

“Oh God,” Sasha groans beside me as we ride the elevator up to the next floor, “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She emphasizes that statement by pushing her arms against her stomach.

“We’ll be fine, Angel.” I’m not sure how much physical touch I’m allowed to do in private so I settle with a reassuring pat on the arm. Oh who am I kidding, there was nothing reassuring about it. It was awkward and uncomfortable and from Sasha’s nervous laugh as she looks between her arm, my hand and then my face, I can tell she thought it was just as fucking weird.

Sasha is a ball of nervous energy as we walk closer to Josh and Olivia’s apartment. I, on the other hand, am completely at ease. “Sasha, we’ve been together for two weeks, you need to act as if we’re in love, not that you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” She fires back in a harsh tone, then whispers under her breath, “I’m scared of them.”

I lift my hand to the doorknob before Sasha grabs my wrist in her small hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going in, obviously.”

“Have you got no sense of boundaries at all?”

“Nope.” I say, popping the ‘p’ and waggling my eyebrows at her which earns me a sexy little eyeroll.

Sasha knocks lightly on the door and I pull her into me, my arm wrapped around her waist, my fingers digging into her hip. She instantly stiffens in my hold. “What are you doing?” She asks, all wide eyed, red faced and freaked out.

“If I remember correctly, I would say this whole thing was your idea. So, I’m pretty sure you know what I'm doing.”