Page 22 of Playing the Player

“What are you talking about?”

“When Conor told us why he calls you Angel, you practically had hearts in your eyes. That seemed very real to me.”

“Look, Liv, it’s fine. We have rules so that nothing happens. We’ll be fine.”

“Rules were made to be broken, babe.”

After an awkward as hell dinner, Conor and I made our way back to his apartment. It was so weird. I’ve never been in such an uncomfortable situation in my whole life and there have been countless of those.

We barely spoke, and when we did it was about things like the weather and Isabella. We all skated around the subject of Conor and I. It was a huge elephant in the room that no one dared speak of but the tension in the room was palpable.

I get Olivia’s concern, but nothing is gonna happen. Conor and I have rules for a reason, so none of us get hurt, and I have always been a stickler for the rules.

I hadn’t planned on staying at Conor’s place after dinner but he decided we needed a drink to wash away the evening and I couldn’t agree more. So we settled on the couch, he had a beer and I had a glass of wine. That turned into three beers and three glasses of wine so now I’m running on a buzz. Not drunk but not sober. The perfect amount after this hellish evening.

“They just need to cool off for a bit. It’ll all be fine tomorrow.” Conor says, trying and failing to reassure me. Olivia and I have had our fair share of fall outs over the years but I’ve never seen her act like that towards me before.

I don’t know if she’s angry, disappointed or concerned. Probably all of the above. I’ll call her in the morning and try to smooth everything out, try to make her understand and see where I’m coming from.

“I want to quit my job.” I blurt out without meaning to. You know when things just build up inside of you and come out at the worst times? That’s what this is.

“Why?” He asks after taking a sip of his drink.

“I hate it. My boss is an ass and it’s not what I wanted to do with my life.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

I don't want to tell him. It's embarrassing. A stupid dream I've had since I was a kid which in reality would never work. But the look in Conor’s deep blue eyes makes me want to spill every secret I've ever kept. “I want to be a writer.”

“Like books and shit?” He asks and I giggle.

“Yeah, books and shit.”

“So why don’t you?”

I just shrug in response to Conor’s question. I don't actually know the answer to that. The thought of leaving a stable job to pursue something that might never turn into something is terrifying. But if I don't leave my job, I wouldn't have any time to write so it wouldn't be practical.

“You’re scared.” He says it as a statement. Am I really that easy to read? When I don’t disagree, he continues. “You shouldn't be. I think you should take that leap and just do it. You'll never know if you don't try.”

“But what if my writing is terrible and then I'm left with no job and no money?”

“Sasha, I think you'd be amazing at whatever you set your mind to. Get out of that head of yours.” He emphasizes that point by tapping the side of my head.

I hadn't realized until now how close we had gotten. Every time one of us got up off the couch and came back, we’d apparently moved more into the middle and now there’s barely any space between us. Tingles shoot through me as my knee brushes against his.

“You really think that?” I ask him, hope and the need for validation swirling through my head.

The hand that tapped my head is now resting on the top of the couch, Conor’s fingers brushing the tip of my shoulder. “Yeah, Angel, I do.” Conor’s gaze moves around my face before settling on my lips.

I don’t know if it’s the wine or the man in front of me but the urge to kiss him is overpowering me. I bite my lower lip hard to stop myself from doing anything stupid but it only makes it worse when Conor’s hand moves to my face. He pulls my lip gently, running his thumb over the tender flesh and I want nothing more than to stick my tongue out and lick it.

Time stands still as we lock eyes again. There’s nothing but heat shining in his eyes. I’m sure my own are the same. My heartrate has picked up to dangerous levels and my hands shake from where I’m fisting the end of my shirt while every nerve ending in my body seems to have lit up. It wouldn't take much for him to kiss me right now. One small movement and his lips would be on mine.

This is against the rules, Sasha! Get out of there now!

But then Olivia’s words float through my mind, “Rules were made to be broken.” Shit. I am so fucked.

Conor leans in slowly and my eyes flutter closed, waiting to feel the warmth of his lips against mine. I can feel his minty breath ticking my face. He’s so close -