Page 60 of Playing the Player

Conor tries to stay offended. He really does. But the corner of his mouth betray him and a second later he’s laughing too. “It’s not that funny!”

“Oh, but it is.” I manage between breaths. “I can just imagine you singing along to it with no cares in the world, wearing a T-birds leather jacket.” Conor buries his face in a pillow. “Please tell me you were a theater kid.”

“I’m not answering that.”

I freeze and blink slowly at him. “Oh my God, you were!” Another wave of laughter hits me so hard that I get a stitch in my side. “Ouch, ouch!” I breathe out between bouts of laughter. “It actually hurts.”

“Serves you right.” Conor mutters but he's just as amused as I am right now. “I was gonna say that I can show you some old photos but now you don’t get the privilege.”

My head snaps up. “You have pictures?”

“I did.”

“Conor.”

“Not anymore.”

“Conor.”

“No chance.”

“I need to see them.”

“No way in hell. You’ll just laugh at me again.”

“Of course I will.”

“I knew it!” He points accusingly at me before stretching lazily across the bed. “And while you’re plotting other ways to embarrass me, I’m gonna just relax back here and wait for what you promised me.” A satisfied grin settles across his face.

“Jokes on you, baby.” He narrows his eyes. “I didn't say when.”

Before he can protest, I hop out of bed and wander over to my dresser, pulling on an oversized sweater and a pair of leggings.

“Okay now I really do hate you.” Conor sulks and I giggle again. I’ve laughed more this morning than I have in a long time. It feels… healing.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand with an incoming text, Olivia’s name flashing up on the screen.

Livvy: Is Conor with you?

I have to lie, right? Conor is supposed to be at home sick, not blowing off practice to spend time with me. That just screams suspicious.

Me: No, why?

Livvy: Josh said he called in sick but he’s not at his apartment.

Me: Maybe he’s in bed if he’s sick.

Josh: In the four years Conor has been with the Flames, he’s never called in sick.

Me: Okay… but maybe he really is sick.

I can call him if you want?

Josh: One day, he came to practice with food poisoning and pretended he was fine. He threw up all over the ice. So no, I don’t think he’s really sick.

I slowly lift my eyes up to look at Conor, “You’re so gross.”

“What did I do?” I show him my text from Josh and Conor grimaces. “In my defense, I didn't think that was gonna happen.”