Page 17 of Playing the Player

“Promise.” Olivia crosses her hand over her heart.

I can trust this woman with my life, so I tell her the truth. “What if I meet a woman that I really care about? What if I see a future with someone and find out she was only ever with me because I play hockey?” I hang my head, shame and vulnerability making it too hard to look her in the eye.

“Conor.” Her voice softens. “You’re an incredible guy. Hockey might get someone's attention, but it isn't what would make them stay.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well I do.” She squeezes my arm. “I know it’s scary. I know a lot of the guys probably feel the same way. But don’t shut yourself off from having something meaningful because of something that hasn’t even happened yet.”

I smile weakly at her. “Thanks.”

“You deserve someone who loves you for you. You would make someone really happy if you gave it a chance.” She tilts her head, “Why don’t you find someone who doesn’t really care about hockey?”

“Like who?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she thinks. “Like Sasha!”

I almost choke on air at the sound of her name. Does Olivia know we had dinner a couple of weeks ago? She hasn’t said anything about it and now, seconds after Sasha texts me…

“Not Sasha, obviously. You gotta keep your dirty paws off her. But I think someone like her would be good for you.”

“Why can’t I date Sasha?” I ask her. Does she not think I’m good enough for her? I’m actually fucking offended.

“Because she’s too pure. I don’t want you corrupting her.”

I bark out a laugh. I think she’d be the one corrupting me. “Anyway, I should go. I need a shower.” I say instead of voicing my opinion on the matter.

“Yeah go, you fucking stink.”

I leave Olivia’s apartment, replying to Sasha’s text in the elevator on the way down to my floor.

Me: Finally come to your senses?

Angel: Shut up *eyeroll emoji*

Angel: Can I come over?

Me: Any time you want, baby ;)

Five minutes later, someone starts trying to kick my front door off its hinges. That’s not knocking. That’s attempted murder. Considering that the door is shaking from the bottom, I can either assume that whoever is on the other side is about two feet tall, or Sasha is kicking the shit out of my door. Whoever it is sounds pissed.

The second I swing the door open, I get a hard kick in the shin. “Ouch! What the fuck?”

Sasha barges past me, moving into the living room. “Sorry,” she says without sounding sorry at all. “I was aiming for the door.” There’s a smug little grin pulling at her lips and it’s sexy as hell. She’s sexy as hell. And she’s wearing the fuck out of that curve hugging dress.

“Did you buy the whole mall today?” I ask her, eyeing the thousands of bags she dumps on the floor at her feet.

She shrugs as she steps over them and moves towards my couch. “Pretty much.” She plops her sexy little ass down on the couch cushions, slipping her heels off and revealing her silky feet. I wouldn’t say I'm a foot kinda guy but damn, hers are maybe something I’d consider. “Sit.”

I do as she says without hesitation, dropping beside her and draping my arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. “What are you doing?” She asks, eyeing me carefully.

“You came over…” I trail off, waggling my eyebrows at her.

She stares at me for a few seconds before speaking. “To talk, you weirdo. Get off.” She shoves me lightly and I huff a laugh, sliding to the other end of the couch. She still has that mischievous twinkle in her deep, chocolate, brown eyes but there’s something else in there too, something I can’t place. “I need you to do something for me.”

Anything. “Okay.”

“It’s big.”