Page 56 of Playing the Player

This is bad. Really bad. I think we’ve just crossed a line that we can never uncross.

I am so fucked.

23

Conor

I feel like the biggest idiot to ever walk the planet. Sasha and I have kissed a handful of times now, but they were all for show. Apart from that kiss we had at the bar a few weeks ago and the one at her friend's engagement party before that, our public kisses have been no more than a quick touch of our lips. They were all fake. Well, they were supposed to be.

Since we started this arrangement, I haven’t kissed her in private. I've wanted to. More times than I can even count. But I never crossed that line. Sure there were a few almost slip ups between us, but one of us always pulled away.

Last night, I didn’t. I don't even know what I was thinking. After she listened to me, really listened, and didn’t look at me any differently after I told her about my ADHD… Something inside of me just snapped. She was saying everything I didn’t realize I needed to hear, and before I could stop myself, I kissed her. And not only did I kiss her, but I felt her up too.

I'm just so weak when it comes to her.

I thought she wanted it. I thought she wanted me. I thought that maybe she was ready to stop pretending too. But the way she ran out of my apartment, fuck, it was like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

I replayed that moment in my head all night. The embarrassment on her face. The panic. The way she wouldn’t even look at me.

I need to apologize. I need to make sure she’s okay. And that's why I'm standing outside her apartment door at 8:30am before practice with a bouquet of blue and yellow flowers clutched in my hand.

I knock lightly. Nothing. Maybe she’s still asleep. After the last few nights, she deserves the rest. I wait another minute before trying the handle, finding it unlocked. Of course it is! Why does every woman I care about refuse to lock their doors? Sasha does it. Olivia is the exact same when Josh isn't there. I'm gonna need to have a sit down with them and give them both a piece of my mind. Anything could happen to them with the doors unlocked. Silly women and their feisty attitudes thinking they’re invincible.

Maybe I should stage a break in to make them wise up. I’m sure the guys would help me out. Or is that going too far? We’ll talk first. Fake burglary later.

I shut the door quietly behind me when I get inside. It’s eerily quiet in here. Sasha’s terrible music isn't playing like it normally is when she's home. She must be asleep. I should go. For once, it feels wrong to enter someone's house without them knowing. And yes, I know how bad that sounds but it’s fine. I'm harmless.

I'm contemplating taking a spare key so I can lock the door on my way out when I hear a faint noise coming from down the hall. How creeped out would Sasha be if she realized I was in her apartment while she was sleeping? I'm guessing pretty freaked out. I hear the same noise, a little louder this time. Shit, I need to get out of here before she comes out of her room.

A strangled moan stops me in my tracks on the way to the door. I freeze. My stomach knots. Did I hear that right? What the actual fuck?

My grip tightens around the flowers as every rational thought disappears. I dump the bouquet on the dining table and march down the hallway before my brain has the chance to catch up.

Heat rushes through my chest. Jealousy. Possessiveness. I swear to fuck, whoever she’s in there with is gonna get a fist in his face for touching what’s mine.

I don't even knock as I swing the door open so hard that it bangs off the opposite wall. “Get the fuck off my girlfriend, asshole!” I shout as I enter the room, the rage in me so fucking strong that I feel the need to hit something just to calm down. I’ll fucking hit him.

Sasha lets out an ear shattering scream, her face turns a violent shade of red, and she scrambles for her bed sheets, covering her exposed body. “Conor, what the fuck?” She shouts at me, throwing a pillow at my face that I easily catch.

I stop dead. The room is empty. It’s only her. Oh… shit. If she wasn’t moaning like that for someone else then… Oh, God.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She demands, glaring at me.

“I…umm… I came to apologize for last night?” It’s not a question. Why does it sound like a question? Every sentence I’d rehearsed leaves me as a single bead of sweat drips down her neck, rolling underneath the sheet where her full tits a-

“So?” She screams, and the tension in my muscles return. “You have no right to barge in here!”

“I knocked. You didn’t answer.”

“So you just walked in?”

“Yes…” Sasha stares at me in complete disbelief. “Oh, come on, Sash. You know me.”

“Conor!”

“I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought!”