Page 37 of Players Like Us
“What about when we head back to Virginia?” No missing the challenge in his voice. “Do we keep pretending we can barely tolerate each other? Do we let Simon think he still has a chance with you?” Pause. “Does he still have a chance?”
“How can you even say that? I’m not interested in Simon and haven’t been in a long time. My minimal curiosity peaked before I knew who he was...what he was...a player.”
“Ah, a player. Maybe we’re all just players, did you ever think of that? Maybe he’s just one of us… A player like us?”
“Don’t talk like that.” Rachel sat up, placed a hand on his forearm. Minutes ago they’d been so close, so connected, but now? He might as well be ten miles away.
“I’ve pretended my whole life and I’m tired of doing it.”
“Can you just do this for me?” Why couldn’t he understand? “For a little while?”
He remained silent for so long, she didn’t think he’d answer, and when he did she was almost certain he’d refuse. “Define a little while.”
“A few weeks? I just need some time to work things out in my head and then… We’ll let whatever happens happen.”
Neal sat up, reached for his boxers, pulled them on. “Sure. You let me know what you want to do and we’ll see where we are then. If we agree, then great… We’ll move forward with whatever this is.” He snagged his slacks, thrust a leg into one side, then stepped into the other one and yanked up his zipper. “Just send me the playbook, since I don’t seem to know the rules.”
Rachel shimmied into her panties, his shirt still draping her shoulders, the scent of him clinging to her. Didn’t he realize these emotions were too new, too raw, too unfamiliar for her to process right now? She cared about him… Maybe too much… Maybe so much it made her vulnerable and needy, and she did not want to be either. She had to think about this, had to get control, and she needed him to understand. “Neal, there’s something going on between us and I can’t deny it. I’ve never felt this way about any man...and that was before what just happened. I need time to figure this out; can you try to understand?”
He eased the shirt from her shoulders, careful not to touch her skin. “I understand exactly what you’re saying. You’re scared. Uncharted territory. All of that other BS, and I guess maybe you think I’m not? Maybe you’re questioning whether I have real feelings for you? Maybe I’ve been through this so many times and you’re just one more—” he waved a hand toward the ground “—warm body? Well, guess what? You’re not and this wasn’t and if you need time to process it and develop talking points?” He shoved his feet into his shoes, spat out, “Then maybe this was a mistake.” His gaze swung to hers, blue eyes so bright they glittered. “Maybe we were a mistake.”
No, no, he couldn’t mean that. “Neal. Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say what you’re trying to figure out? I’m done playing games with you, Rachel. You know where I am and you should know who I am and if that’s not good enough for you, then do us both a favor and admit it.”
23
Who would have thought that the one time Neal took a chance and opened his heart to someone, she had to think about whether or not she was interested in the offer? If he weren’t so damn hurt and irritated, it would be laughable. No doubt the women who’d spent years trying to convince him to give love a chance would say he got exactly what he deserved. They’d probably be right. Now he knew what it was like to really care about someone, to open yourself to hurt and pain and vulnerability… And when you finally got the courage to do it, basically admit you were all in…walk up to the line of “love” without saying it—she balks? Says she needs time to sort it out?
Sort what out? Whether she wanted to be with him? Whether she cared enough past sleeping with him? There’d never been a woman who could turn him upside down like this one, one minute making him feel he’s the king of her world and the next, stomping on the very idea of it. Yeah, well, he wasn’t sitting around waiting for her to cause him more pain, more indecision, more frustration. He’d get through this party tonight and then he was gone, and she could contact him when she “figured out a few things in her head”.
Or not.
When Neal arrived back at Tate and Charlotte’s, all he wanted was a hot shower and an hour of quiet before the shindig started. He’d have a whole night of pretending and he needed time to rest before the playacting started. Unfortunately, Tate spotted him before Neal could escape upstairs. His brother’s gaze narrowed a fraction, no doubt assessing and analyzing, seeing way too much.
“Do you have a minute?”
Not really. “Sure.” Neal followed Tate into his study, closed the door and sank onto a chair. “What’s up?”
“Is everything okay?”
Neal didn’t miss the concern in his brother’s voice, or the empathy, as though he had a feeling this was about Rachel. “Could be better.” Yeah, Rachel could have accepted his all-in offer instead of asking him to pretend.
That blue gaze that never missed anything narrowed. “Don’t suppose you want to tell me about it?”
Neal shrugged. “Not particularly.”
“Is Rachel involved?”
“She’s always involved when my world starts spinning apart.”
A nod, a big sigh. “I get it. I wish I didn’t, but I do. It’s the worst place to be, and it happens to all of us.”
“Great. Glad I held out for the one woman who can make me feel like crap and make me doubt every thought I ever had.”
“Sounds like she’s worth it.”
“She is, but she’s not sure I am.” Neal had never been this honest with Tate or shared so much, but maybe it was time.
