Page 10 of Cocky Player

It couldn’t be Connor.It was my lingering imagination and humiliation as to how everything went so poorly last weekend.Not that I’d been able to stop thinking about it.Or imagining what it’d be like had he finished.Had he shoved down his jeans, freed himself, slid himself into me still propped against the wall.

I replayed the fantasies several times over the last few days and came to one, severely disappointing conclusion.

After having a small taste of the real thing, I could no longer do the job as well as him.And wasn’t that a massive bummer?Awesome bonus: I was craving him more in a way that had made me start fearing for my mental health.

I’d become sex-starved, desperate to experience everything.I wanted all the messy scenarios I’d imagined over the years—helped in part by my large collection of erotic romance novels.

Now that my first attempt had gone so horribly, disastrously wrong, I was trying to figure out how to gather the courage to go after what I wanted.Which meant my mind was definitely playing tricks on me when I saw the mess of dark hair disappear.I had to have imagined the similarities.

A raucous round of applause blared through the air pulling me back to the moment.

Oh God.I was turned on.On stage with my family.Did my embarrassment and self-respect know no bounds?

“I need a drink,” I muttered to my sister Eva next to me.At twenty-eight, she spent most of the speech corralling her son, Kollin, while keeping her infant from grabbing at the neckline of her dress.I reached for Tomas as she laughed.

“You and me both, sister.”She handed me my eight-month-old nephew and his hand immediately dove for my breast.

“Good grief, do you ever feed this guy?”

She shook her head and curled her hand over Kollin’s shoulder before he dove off the stage.“Only every two hours and the monster ate right before we stepped up here.”

He had.But my nephew always clung to my sister’s nursing breasts.She always laughed and told me it was a boy thing.Not that I’d know…or wanted to hear any part of her sex life.“Come on.Show’s over.Let’s get that drink.”

“Gladly.”I carried Tomas off the stage, followed by my siblings and family members, passing and smiling at the new members of the team, many of whom were my own age or younger as they waited to be welcomed into the fold.“Champagne?”I asked Eva over my shoulder right as Tomas made another open-mouth dive toward my dress top, small hands clinging to my Carolina-blue colored dress.

I might have graduated from an all-girls college on the coast, but I was a UNC girl through-and-through.

Eva took Tomas from me as he cried out, frustrated I didn’t supply what he wanted.“I’ll meet you there later.Let me get him taken care of and with the nanny inside.”

“I’ll grab a drink for you,” I said, disappointed.I saw my family so little I was excited to be around them again.Now that I was home and living in Raleigh where most of my family lived, I couldn’t wait to become the world’s greatest aunt to all seven of my nieces and nephews.My family spawned like rabbits in spring, leaving me not only the youngest without kids and to be married, but an outsider to all of them.

No one understood how lonely I felt or how much I liked being alone.Trauma made me strange sometimes, desperately wanting to be around people and yet avoiding it and overwhelmed by it at the same time.Much like I was feeling now, being on stage, forced to say hello to dozens of women I didn’t know along with men I barely recognized.

I craved people and my solitude.I desired physical touch without the risk of relationship drama.It was a dichotomy I fought through every day, but being surrounded by strangers all trying to say hello was overwhelming to my senses so much so that by the time I made it to one of the drink tables near the back and grabbed a glass of champagne, my hands were trembling and my heart was racing.

Other times, I was able to handle it perfectly fine, like the night at Glitz.The problem was I never knew when the trigger would hit, throwing me backward a hundred steps.

Keeping my back to the crowd, I inhaled several slow breaths and took a sip.I focused on the rose bushes and hydrangeas that led to the beautiful gardens.Behind the hydrangeas and on the other side of a large lilac hedge was a bench my father made for me years ago when I needed time alone.

I headed there now.

Just a few minutes.A few minutes of peace and solitude and I’d be okay for the afternoon.

It was quiet back there and I kicked off my heels as I reached the stone path.The champagne glass in my hand had stopped shaking the closer I got to the sweet-scented bushes and then I stepped inside the circular area.All around me I was hidden from sight, safely protected while still having freedom.

Goddamn, I was such a mess.Always, even when I thought I was doing better.Somehow freedom was restrictive and rules a safety net.I was a disaster waiting to happen, wanting my own space, missing the structure of school and required rules.

Another sip of champagne hit my lips and I savored the sweet bubbles.The bright blue sky dotted with popcorn clouds, the rush of leaves beyond and I took a deep breath.

Flowers.Freedom.I was okay and safe and loved.

A shadow fell over me, and my back straightened.On guard.I wasn’t prepared for company and awareness spiked down my spine like ice picks.

“We need to talk.”

That voice.No.

I spun and I wasn’t sure what fell faster, my jaw or my champagne glass as it slipped from my fingers.

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