Page 26 of Playing the Player

“Thank you, Conor, but no.”

Our food arrives before I can argue any further. I’ll let it go, for now. “Tell me about college. Where did you go? What did you study?”

Sasha’s eyes roll to the back of her head and she hums around a mouthful of spaghetti. This woman is dangerous. If she looks and sounds like this now, what would she be like if I got her into bed? Fuck me. That would be a dream.

My cock stiffens painfully in my jeans at the image of her in my head, laying naked on my bed, hair spread out across my pillows, perfect tits on full display, eyes rolling back in pleasure, soft moans floating past her lips as I push into her.

Sasha’s voice pulls me out of the delicious thoughts I seemed to get lost in. “I went to NYU.” Impressive. “I studied English and Literature.” That sounds… boring as hell. “I’ve always wanted to write since I was a kid. I thought that would sort of open the gateway to that world.”

I shift in my seat, trying to ease the ache in my balls without making it obvious. “And it didn’t?”

“I don’t know. I got my receptionist job as soon as I left college and haven’t thought about it since.”

She has thought about it. She probably thinks about it every day that she’s at the office or every time she opens her laptop. I can tell by the way her smile drops slightly at one side and her eyes lose a little bit of their shine, that she thinks about it. It’s subtle, but I notice.

“I know why you aren’t writing now, but why didn’t you give writing a go when you left college?”

She hesitates for a moment, but then speaks. “I was going to. My dream was to leave college and start writing, but Max and I had found an apartment that we loved and me spending all my time writing instead of making real money just wasn’t going to work for our plans.” Something tells me that this wasn’t a mutual decision but Max’s. If Sash was my girl, I’d do anything to make sure her dream came true. If I had to get two jobs to pay off a new apartment, or get a shitty apartment just to make that happen, then so be it. This woman deserves everything and more and she deserves it to be handed to her on a silver platter.

“And now?” I ask, “Why don’t you write now?”

“It’s been a long time since I went to college. I think I've lost the confidence to just do it.” I get that. It’s like showing the whole world who you are, opening yourself up for criticism of other people and that’s a scary thing to go through. I’ve lived it more times than I ever wanted to.

11

Sasha

Dinner last night was… incredible. The food was delicious, the atmosphere was perfect and the company was… I don't even know how to put it into words. I’ve never been on a real date before, even if it technically wasn’t one. But sitting across from someone, asking questions simply because you want to know the answer, with no pressure or expectations… It felt completely different from anything I’ve ever experienced.

The only downside was everyone else. The lingering stares, the flashes from phone cameras when people thought they were being subtle, even just the whispers from people around us. It was too much. I get that I signed up for this, but I still hate it.

I’ve never liked being the center of attention, I hate people talking about me. My mind always goes to the same place. Are they judging me? Do they think I’m not good enough for Conor?

I’m not like the normal girls he hooks up with. I’m not blonde or tall with legs for days. I don’t look like I belong on the front cover of a fashion magazine. I don’t wear outfits that show lots of skin or post glamorous selfies every other day. I’m just not that kind of girl. The kind Conor actually likes.

And that just makes me wonder even more why he agreed to do this in the first place. He’s not getting anything out of this arrangement, so why?

But somewhere between the starters and dessert, all the whispers seemed to disappear. Conor has his way of making everything else fade into the background.

He’s kind. Genuinely kind. He’s funny without even trying, thoughtful in ways I never expected, and so much more real than the cocky flirt I knew a few weeks ago. I thought he was all charm and one-liners, but getting to know the man behind all of that has been… dangerous. Not because of him. Because of me.

With Max, we knew each other forever. There were never those deep conversations about childhood dreams or favorite memories or the kind of future we both wanted. By the time we started dating, we already knew all of those things.

With Conor, every conversation uncovers something new. And I find myself wanting to know everything.

My phone lights up on the reception desk, pulling me out of my thoughts. I quickly glance around, making sure Larry is nowhere in sight before picking it up and reading the text.

Livvy: Guess who just made headline news!

Me: Hmmm, you?

Livvy: Nope.

Livvy: YOU!

Me: WHAT???

A second later, another message appears with a link attached. It’s from one of those sports gossip websites that seems far more interested in athletes’ love lives than their actual careers.