Page 91 of Playing the Player

“I can’t…” My voice cracks. “I can’t be here.”

“Let us walk you home.” Josh offers but I refuse. I need to be alone.

I don’t wait for another word. I run, sprinting back to my apartment with tears streaming down my face.

Thick raindrops start falling from the sky as my lungs burn. It doesn’t rain much here this time of year, but of course the heavens decide to open now. The thunderous clouds and heavy water droplets matching my mood.

I get home quicker than I thought I would, but all of it’s a blur. I shouldn’t be this upset. Conor is single. I made him that way. This is all my fault. It’s karma coming to kick me in the ass.

There’s a voice screaming at me from inside my head saying, Max was right. “No…”

Is there something wrong with me? Am I really that disposable and unforgettable? Forty-eight hours later and Conor has already bagged himself some random woman to take home. Did he even wait that long? Maybe that’s where he went after he left my apartment, finally free to start fucking any woman that shows him a little bit of attention, just like he did before.

This is why I have to be on my own right now. Men make trusting them impossible.

I just really thought Conor would be different.

37

Conor

“You want one more?” Knight asks me, holding up his empty bottle of beer.

“Make it two.”

“On it.” He stalks off towards the bar and disappears into the crowd.

I’m drinking away my sorrows tonight. I’m so fucking sad and pissed off and heartbroken, and I just need to forget, just for tonight. If I stay sober, all I will think about is Sasha and I can’t think about her right now, so I’m drinking.

“Conor Matthews.” A sugary voice drifts from behind me. Before I can even turn around, a brunette slides into my lap like she belongs there, with one arm draped lazily around my neck. Legs for days, designer perfume, perfect makeup. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you without that girlfriend of yours.”

I grunt in response, the reminder that Sasha isn’t by my side tonight leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I down the rest of my beer to ease the taste and slam the bottle back onto the table in front of me.

“Uh, oh.” She traces lazy circles over my chest, looking up at me through thick lashes. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.” I grumble, looking around the bar for Knight, needing some kind of buffer here. This woman is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but I feel absolutely nothing for her. Not even a ball tingle.

She moves into me closer, lowering her head and running her nose along the expanse of my neck. I suppress the urge to shove her off of me and instead, grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurts. “Maybe I can take your mind off it?” She whispers into my ear in a sultry voice that does nothing but give me a headache.

Tipping my head back, I let out a loud booming laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Before Sash, an offer like that would have me dragging the woman out the door before she can take her next breath, but now, the thought of even touching another woman makes me wanna be sick. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, Conor. We all know she wasn’t your type. That woman was just a place holder until someone better came along.” She slowly walks her fingers up the back of my neck before fisting my hair. “Someone like me.”

My law locks and my fists clench so hard that my knuckles turn white and it’s taking everything inside of me to stay calm right now. I don’t need to defend what Sasha and I had, especially not to some puck bunny who’s just looking to add another player onto her scoreboard.

Over the brunette's head, my gaze collides with wide, panicked eyes. Knight comes back to the booth, hands full with bottles of beer, a look of horror over his face. “Run, Matthews. Run, now.”

I don’t get the chance to ask why before I see a fiery blonde storming towards me. Oh shit. She looks pissed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Olivia hisses, glaring between me and the brunette still sitting on my lap.

“Just trying to have a good night, Olliepop.” I say, raising my glass in her direction before taking a long swig.

Josh moves in behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, but judging by the look of disappointment on his face, he’s not here to defend me. Olivia swings her arm out, gesturing to the woman on my knee with one eyebrow raised in question.

“This is nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”