Page 39 of Cocky Player

If there was an us.

Fifteen

Brenna

I hadn’t been kiddingwhen I told Becca that Gina had gone home with a guy from a tattoo shop last week.She found him on a Tuesday, came home with sex hair out tothereand a glazed-over look in her eyes, declaring that night the best night of sex in her life.

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it.I guaranteed it wouldn’t be the last.

Not the visual I needed a day after my own night with Connor, and I’d left for work that morning wondering what sex with Connor would actually be like.I’d had years to imagine it, a couple weeks of experiencing it.In the quiet of my apartment, Gina out once again with the tattoo artist she refused to name—most likely because her men were never around long enough to remember them—it was all I could think about despite my efforts to push Connor out of my mind.

I had a glass of wine.A new book downloaded onto my Kindle.Netflix pulled up.All my favorite distractions and yet I was staring at the television screen, thinking only of Connor and the text he sent me an hour ago.

Hey

Three letters.One word.How in the heck did I reply to it?A simpleheyback?What’s up?

Without context, my mind raced.Was it important he talk to me?Did he hear from Oliver?Did he want to talk?Was it a simplethinking of youkind of text?

Argh.Stupid, Brenna.Just text him back.

And say what?Hi?Hello?Whatzzzz upppp?With a crazy emoji throwing up devil horns like Gina and I shared.

Probably not the best idea.Ugh.Men were complicated, a non-relationship relationship with Connor had to be one of the worst.I needed lessons from Gina in getting your body involved and keeping your heart out of it because I was definitely failing with my first “just for sex” escapade.

The door opened to our apartment and I swung in the direction as Gina skipped in, same sex-hair she had the other morning, and yesterday, if I was remembering correctly.She dropped her keys and purse onto our kitchen table we used for everything but meals.

“Hey,” I said and checked my watch.It was only eight at night.“You’re home early.”

“He had a late appointment, but if he’s in the same condition I’m in, I have no idea how he’s going to be able to concentrate on doing someone’s ink tonight.”

She winked and went to the kitchen where I heard the pop of a cork, the sound of a wineglass pulled from out under the cupboard glass holder.“And doeshehave a name?Or should I make up one for him since you’re keeping it such a secret?”

“I’m not keeping his name a secret.”

“So, it’s…”

She appeared around the corner to our kitchen and shrugged.“Why do you need to know?”

She sipped her wine, nonchalant as could be but Gina wasn’t mysterious and she had certainly never beencoy…not with me.

I scrambled to my knees on the couch, careful not to spill my wine.“What’s going on?What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, Brenna.Maybe I just want to keep it private.”

In the five years we’ve known each other, Gina had never felt the need to keep anything private…even her privates.She was the girl who’d waltz through the halls of our dorm to the bathroom butt naked, towel and shower caddy in her hand, not giving one single shit who saw her.Granted that was girls, but she was equally free with her thoughts and her affection and everything else in her life.

“You like him,” I surmised, fighting a smile.

“Rubbish.”

“And now you’re British?”

She snorted and collapsed onto a chair, kicking her bare feet onto the coffee table.“I don’t like him.Not like that.”

“Just his dick?”

“Well, yeah, but he has these eyes…and ink.He has this scroll that goes down the side of his ribs.It’s absolutely lickable…” She rambled on, and every description made my grin grow wider.She finally stopped talking, took a breath, and probably realized she was talking more to herself than me.

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