Page 101 of Playing the Player

“And I’m sorry for that night at the bar.”

The reminder of that night still stings. Olivia told me what happened, so really Conor has no reason to apologize, but the image of him with his arm around another woman, innocent or not, still tears me up a little inside. That’s on me and my issues, not him. “It’s okay. I know nothing happened.”

“And nothing was going to happen.” He moves so he’s looking down into my eyes, a promise written across his face. “Nothing was ever going to happen. You have ruined every other woman on this planet for me.” Tears form in my eyes at his words. “No woman has ever and will never compare to you.”

Conor lifts his hand to my face, wiping away the stray tears that are rolling down my cheeks. “I love you, Sasha.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses me one last time before wrapping his arms around me. I don’t know what the future holds for us. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to fully heal after everything that Max did to me, but right now, being wrapped in Conor’s arms, I know I can trust him with my whole heart. And I know without a shred of doubt, that he’ll catch me when I fall.

EPILOGUE

Sasha

4 Months Later

“Sooo, are you looking forward to your first game back tomorrow?” I ask Conor. We’re laying on the couch together, watching re-runs of Grey’s Anatomy as he draws lazy circles down my bare arms.

“I am.” He unintentionally puffs his chest out in pride but then deflates just as quickly. The shift is so minimal that it wouldn’t be noticed. I notice it though.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He doesn’t meet my eye but lets out a heavy breath. Conor hates opening up about his feelings. It’s only recently that he’s been able to start doing it without deflecting or making jokes to make it seem less than it is.

“I’m really nervous.” His knee bounces, a clear sign that he’s getting agitated. “What if I don’t play as well as I used to? What if I get hurt again? What if-”

“Conor.” I take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be great. Coach said you’re playing better than you ever have.” He finally looks at me, his deep blue eyes clouded with insecurity. “I’m not gonna promise that you won’t get hurt, but the chances are so slim.”

He just huffs out a frustrated sigh in response, turning away from me again. “How long have you been playing hockey?”

His brows pinch together, confused by the sudden question but still answers it anyway. “My whole life.” He grumbles.

“And in all those years, how many times have you been seriously injured?”

A beat of silence passes before he huffs out, “Once.”

“See?” I nudge his shoulder gently with my own. “One injury in a lifetime. If something happens again, we’ll deal with it together, but right now, you’re wasting today worrying about something that probably won’t even happen tomorrow.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“I know,” I smile softly, “but stop overthinking it. I can hear those gears turning from here.” An idea sparks, and I swing one leg over his lap until I’m straddling him. “How about I give you something else to think about?”

Conor’s eyebrows lift as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest. “Oh?”

I lean down, placing gentle kisses along his jaw before trailing more down his neck. His skin warms beneath my lips and when I gently nip just below his ear, a shiver rolls through him.

His hands instinctively settle on my hips as his shoulders loosen, some of the tension finally melting away.

“You’re going to have to work really hard on this one, Sash.” He teases, his signature smirk plastered across his handsome face. “I’m still terrified.”

“Challenge accepted.”

I cup his face in my hands and claim his lips with my own before he can say anything else. At first it’s soft, lingering. Then Conor’s fingers tighten against my hips and the kiss deepens. Every lingering worry seems to disappear beneath the warmth of his mouth moving against mine, replaced by something so much better.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire and I moan into his mouth as I feel him hardening against me.

I pull away from him and we’re both smiling. His forehead rests against mine, our breathing slowly evening out. “There he is.” I whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from his eyes.