Page 15 of False Play
You have a lot of problems, my brain pointed out so very matter-of-factly.
Yup. Well aware. But thanks for the reminder.
“You should do it,” Parker commented.
Owen, Donovan, and Morgan nodded at Parker’s comment, mumbling their agreement.
“Yeah,” I croaked out. “My place is big. You’ll barely notice I’m there,” I added, trying to sound casual even though in the past two fucking minutes, I had taken an imaginary hit to the head and deluded myself into thinking this was a brilliant idea.
The way she stared at me after a few beats was sort of…different. With an edge of vulnerability I had never seen in her. In that moment, I knew I had made the right call. And I was determined to make her accept the hand I was willing to lend.
“How about this? We can talk another day. Just the two of us,” I added softly.
She thinned her lips with a nod. “Fine. We’ll talk.”
I managed to give her a casual smile with a small nod, even though my heart wanted nothing more than to do a backflip at the thought of living with the woman I had a mild crush on.
I was so fucked.
* Freckles.
FIVE
KENNEDY
I’M A GROWING BOY, I CAN HANDLE IT.
My life was a gigantic joke.
At least since I lost everything.
You’d think shoving a three-year engagement down the drain would have been the hardest part, butnope. Moving out of the very spacious, three-bedroom condo because the place had been a gift to Joe by his parents was. I never felt comfortable with the fact we didn’t own something together, and it was a constant conversation in our relationship, but ultimately, Joe convinced me to stay put until after our wedding. I couldn’t argue with his logic, since the wedding expenses were quickly stacking up.
In the end, though, I was grateful we didn’t own anything together. Considering how unhelpful Joe was with the aftermath of the wedding that never happened, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what a nightmare it would have been to divide any assets. I was already in enough debt as it was, and even though Joe should have been helping me pay-off everything we weren’t able to cancel when we called the wedding off, I refused to lose the only thing I had going for me—pride.I’d pay every goddamn cent to every single vendor by myself, even if it was the last thing I did.
Which is why I was considering moving in with a hockey player. And not any player, of course. Because life said,“I know you’ve been having a few shitty months, but I’ll raise you this one since you’re so desperate. You’re very welcome.”
Anderson didn’t know this—no one did—but he was the only person throwing me a lifeline I so desperately needed. I didn’t want to do this, but really, what other option did I have? I had toured every possible apartment building in the area, and nothing affordable was available. And crashing at Val’s house wasn’t ideal, because her boyfriend wasn’t all too happy I was there, which made no sense, because he didn’t even officially live with her anyway.
I hit my head against my desk and murmured, “God, Kennedy. You are pathetic.”
Someone knocked on my office door, and when I looked up, Anderson’s head popped in. “Hey, am I early?”
I waved him in with a shake of my head. “Right on time, come in.”
He opened the door fully and walked in with a take-out bag in tow. My eyes involuntarily raked over him. I didn’t know how he managed to do it, but his clothes were always so…perfectly tailored. His gray workout shirt hugged his biceps and pecs perfectly. And believe me, Anderson had a lot of muscle to show off.
My eyes shifted a little south, and oh God, the vein porn on his arms? Straight up diabolical. They made intricate patterns underneath his pale, freckled skin and disappeared underneath the sleeve of his shirt.
Stupid hockey players and their good looks. Or, well, this specific stupid hockey player.
I shifted in my seat and stared at my computer. I had countlessemails sitting in my inbox that I suddenly became very interested in, because if he caught me staring, I would have never heard the end of it. That was the last type of ammunition I wanted to give him.
“Is this your lunch hour?” I asked. “You should have told me, we could have rescheduled or something.”
“It is, but I’m leaving tomorrow night and won’t return until Monday. This is the only time I have available. Plus, I figured you’re probably hungry, too.” He grabbed a Caesar salad, a small club sandwich, and a bottle of Diet Coke from the bag and placed the items in front of me.
My stomach grumbled at the sight of my favorite type of lunch. I’d been so slammed with work, eating was a forgotten task. Everything was a total nightmare, as expected. The media hadn’t let up on the fight, even though it had been almost two weeks. Anthony made a statement that we took these types of situations seriously and were diligently working on it. There had been some rumors circulating that the organization was contemplating a trade, but we assured the loyal fans of Chicago that their favorite star center wasn’t going anywhere.
