Page 92 of Playing the Player

Does she really think I’d jump straight into bed with someone two days after Sasha dumped me? Or didn’t dump me? I still don’t know what to call it.

“I promise it’s nothing.” I glance at the woman still perched comfortably on my knee. “Tell them it’s nothing.” Her face falls, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. Well, I guess it was only nothing to me.

Olivia doesn’t say anything. She just tilts her head to the side, fixing the woman with a menacing glare which to Olivia means “fuck off”. Thankfully the woman listens as she scrabbles off my knee so fast, her ass almost hits the floor. Gone is the confident woman who was just trying to get in my pants and in her place is a scared little girl who looks as though she’s about to burst into tears. It almost makes me laugh. Almost.

“Seriously, Conor.” Josh says quietly. “What are you doing?”

“I told you. Nothing.” Finishing my beer, I move to get another but Olivia’s wrist on my arm stops me.

“Conor.” Something in her voice makes me look up at her. The anger is gone. Now she just looks… sad. “Sasha was here.”

Every muscle in my body locks. “When?”

“She just left.”

All the air leaves my lungs in one breath. “Did she…” Olivia knows what I’m asking. Did Sasha see me with that woman? My stomach drops when Olivia nods her head.

Fuck!

I don’t say anything else as I race out the door of the bar. Rain lashes against my face the second I step outside, but I barely notice. My eyes dart up and down the street. Searching. Praying. Please still be here. Please. But she’s gone.

“Fuck!” My voice echoes through the empty street. What the fuck was I thinking? Even if Sasha didn’t see me, I’m sure someone would have told her. Hell, it’ll probably be on the front cover of that twisted sports news channel by tomorrow morning. I am so fucking stupid!

Nothing happened with that woman. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t kiss her. I don’t even know her name. But if I saw Sasha sitting on some random guy's lap, I’d flip my shit. She must hate me now. All those fears she has about trusting guys has probably just cemented itself in her head.

I pull my phone out of my pocket with shaky hands and press call. It goes straight to voicemail, her velvety voice floating through my speaker. “Oh, come on.” Should I go to her place? Would she even let me in? I’ll text her instead. It’s safer.

Me: It wasn’t what it looked like.

The rain is relentless, large drops bouncing against the sidewalk. It’s cold enough to sting, but I barely notice it. I wait beneath the black sky, watching my phone, willing it to light up with Sasha’s name on the screen, telling me I haven’t lost her. Every second stretches longer than the last, each one whispering the same cruel thought: She’s not gonna answer.

When my phone chimes five minutes later, my heart sinks a little deeper into my chest.

Angel: You're a single man, Conor. You can do whatever you want.

Me: Not when the only thing I want is you.

Delivered. Seen. Nothing. I wait for her response, but it never comes. My lungs deflate as my feet move against the wet concrete. Everything hurts. My head, my shoulder, and as cringy as it sounds, my heart. The puddles on the sidewalk get deeper, the water soaking through my shoes. I’m cold and wet, but I keep walking, not really sure about where I’m going.

I don’t want to go home. It’s too quiet there without Sasha. I want to go to her, but I can’t. It’s getting late. All the stores have already closed, the street lamps the only thing lighting my way.

I walk aimlessly for so long that my feet are starting to ache and the alcohol seems to have left my system. My head isn’t fuzzy anymore. The streets are now deserted, not a single person in sight. The rain has slowed to a faint mist, silently showering the world around me. The thoughts in my head are louder now than they were when I left the bar.

I stop walking, looking around at the buildings in front of me when I see the familiar sign of Buttons and Books. Diane is moving around inside the coffee shop, setting up the tables for tomorrow morning. That woman works too hard and it doesn’t help that she lives above the cafe. She never takes a day off.

Charlie lives with her too. She has Isabella for the night while Olivia and Josh are out. They’re so lucky to have family this close, helping them out whenever they need. I wish I had that. My family are all in Canada and I miss them all fiercely. Maybe I should go home for a while. Just until I heal and can get back on the ice. A change of scenery might be good for me.

But no, my real family is here. My teammates, Olivia, Diane. They’re my family and this is my home now. These people have been here a hell of lot more than my own blood and that matters a lot more than anything.

I cross the empty street, knocking on the door to the cafe. Diane’s head flies up at the sudden noise, her hand flying over her chest. She visibly relaxes when she sees that it’s me standing on the other side, quickly making her way over to unlock the door.

“What are you doing here so late?” She asks, pulling me inside before locking the door again. I shrug in response, not knowing what to say. “You look like a drowned rat, Conor.”

It’s only now that I’m in the heat of the cafe do I feel the chill running deep through my bones. It’s hard to stop the shivering that is taking over my body and I hug my one good arm around myself but it’s no use.

“Upstairs.” Diane orders, leading me to the back of the coffee shop and toward the staircase that leads to her apartment. “I’m sure I have some of Josh’s clothes laying around here somewhere.”

“I don’t think Josh’s clothes would fit over my huge muscles.” I tease, making a show of flexing my one good arm. Diane rolls her eyes, dragging me up the stairs and into the apartment. “Where’s my Connie girl?”