Page 35 of Playing the Player

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just picturing you on your knees for me.” Conor’s eyes go wide and it takes me a moment to realize what I’ve said. “Okay, that came out wrong.” We both laugh as we sway to an acoustic version of Heaven by Bryan Adams that’s playing through the speakers.

“All you have to do is ask, pretty girl.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I shove his shoulders, laughing.

I love how easy it is being with him. I’m constantly smiling when I’m around this man. My stomach does somersaults every time he looks at me. We can talk for hours on end and never get bored. Even just being in his company makes me feel… safe. He makes me feel seen.

“Thank you for doing this, Conor.” I rest my head against his chest as he holds me. “You have really saved my ass tonight.”

“Just think of me as your own personal, hot, wealthy, extremely sexy guardian angel.”

“Ahh, you forgot humble.”

“Add it to the list.”

I chuckle, settling against him as we sway to the music. I can feel his heart thumping beneath my cheek, the fast-paced rhythm matching my own. We step together without thinking, moving in sync, so tuned to what the other is doing.

We stay like this for two more songs, just holding each other. It feels so right, like we have been doing this together forever and it’s scaring the hell out of me.

Conor leans down, his warm breath fanning across the bare skin of my neck. “Max is watching us.” I instantly stiffen. “Keep moving, Angel.”

I do, but suddenly everything feels forced and wrong. I hate that. I hate that hearing his name can still change everything. I thought I felt nothing, but I guess some feelings are harder to shake than others. “Kiss me.” I blurt out before the thought fully crosses my mind.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re a couple. We should kiss at least once in public, right?”

“We have kissed in public.” He says as if I’m stupid.

“I don’t mean a quick peck, Conor. Kiss me.”

He brings his forehead to rest against mine and I catch the faint scent of mint from the toothpaste he used before we left the hotel, mixed with champagne. It’s intoxicating. His hands are warm against my waist, his thumb moving slowly over my hip. “Are you sure?”

I should answer him. I should tell him yes. Instead, I reach up, curling my fingers through the hair on the back of his head and pull him down. The second our lips meet, the whole room disappears. There’s no obnoxious laughter of rich men or snotty comments from the other women. There’s no clinking of glasses or too loud music. There’s no Max. There’s only him. And me. There’s only us.

His lips move against mine, slow at first, as though he’s giving me every opportunity to change my mind. I don’t. I lean in closer, and his arm tightens around me, pulling me flush against him. Something inside of me cracks.

The kiss deepens, and a shiver runs down my spine. One of his hands is wrapped in my hair, his fingers curling gently into the strands as he tilts my head back. Every nerve in my body feels alive. My heart pounds against my ribs. My stomach twists.

The worst part about this isn’t about how good it feels. It’s how right it feels. Like we’ve been doing this forever. I’m not kissing him because of Max anymore. I’m not kissing him because we’re putting on a show. I’m kissing him because I want to.

Somewhere between the fake dates and stolen glances, the teasing and the arguments, the laughter and the late night conversations, Conor stopped feeling like part of an arrangement. He became a part of me.

That thought hits me so hard that my chest aches.

I force myself to pull away, but the loss of him feels heavy. Resting my head against Conor’s chest again, I try desperately to pretend that kiss didn’t just knock every thought in my head completely off course.

But I can still feel his lips against mine. I can still feel his arms around me. I can still feel the way my entire body reacted to him.

That scares me more than anything. I can’t be feeling like this. Not for him. Not now. Not when none of this is real.

15

Sasha

As much as I love dressing up, I cannot wait to get dressed down tonight. Conor and I stayed at the party a lot longer than we were planning to. When I got over the initial nervousness and made myself forget about everyone else in the room, I actually had a really good time.

We danced the whole night, drank too much champagne and ate our body weight in fancy finger foods. I laughed more tonight than I have in a long time and that is all down to the man who’s currently shrugging out of his suit jacket in front of me.