Page 46 of False Play
He stopped dead in his tracks and stared over his shoulder with a blank expression.
“Let this be the last time you reference me as a little girl. I have a name.Useit.” My voice was tight and to the point. “Have a great day!” I finished, a bit too chipper, then closed the door and muttered, “Dick.”
I had been puttingout fires all day. What happened in Anthony’s office that morning was a piece of cake compared to everything else.
My inbox was flooded with different sports media agencies wanting me to comment on the rumors of my relationship with Henry. We worked quickly, and Anthony finally made an official statement, confirming it wasn’t a publicity stunt.
The biggest problem I had on my mind when I woke up was figuring out how I was going to survive Evelyn and David’s anniversary party, and how I was going to face Joe and his new girlfriend without looking like a total idiot. Because knowing Joe, he’d love nothing more than to rub it in my face. It was immature, and I wanted no part of it.
Still, I had to put the situation at the back of my mind. My personal dilemma was child’s play compared to the mess I got myself in at work.
I sent one last email for the day and turned off my computer with a tired sigh.
I loved my job, and working my ass off to get the promotion was the only thing holding my life together. Another part of me, though, ached for something, and I didn’t know what it was.
Well, that’s half a lie. Iknew. I was fucking lonely, and the thought made no sense, because don’t get me wrong, breaking up with my ex-fiancé was the best decision for me. I didn’t regret it, not one bit. But I couldn’t help but wonder, was thisitfor me?
What was I saying? Of course, it was. Who in their rightmind wanted to be with someone who, more than anything, loved being headstrong by nature? I wore my stubbornness like a shield, knowing full-well it was what was ultimately going to push anyone who tried to get close away.
What are you even saying, Kennedy? You should be happy. You have a good career, you’re making shit happen. You got out of a—let’s be honest here now— toxic relationship. Stop overthinking shit.
When I opened my office door to leave for the day, I found Henry with his arm half-raised in a fist as if he was about to knock.
He startled. “Oh, hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
He leaned against the door frame with a smirk, casually tucking a hand in one of his pockets. “I figured you needed a ride home since I drove you here today.”
Home. Why did that word make me sonervous?
“Oh, right.” I shook my head. “That’s okay. Val could have taken me home.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Afraid to be alone with me, Jonesy?”
The palm of my hand met his chest, and I pushed him out of the way so I could get out of my office and lock it. “You wish.”
He scrubbed his jaw then licked his bottom lip. The move was so stupidly sexy, it instantly annoyed me. “Do I make you nervous?”
I locked my door with a scoff, and though my pulse spiked at his husky words, I still managed to say, “Shut up, Anderson.”
He caged me against the door with a low laugh and leaned over until our faces were level. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I refused to meet his stare. I could still feel it, though, burning my cheek like a live wire just beneath my skin, causing a chill to run down my spine. “You’re so damn cocky, it’s repulsing.”
He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to meet his ocean-blue irises. The slight pressure of his fingers against my skin was unbearably hot, but I welcomed it. “I think you find my cockiness hot.”
Oh. If he wanted to play, I was game. He was about to learn that backing down wasn’t part of my vocabulary.
I stepped closer to him. My eyes flicked to his oval-shaped lips before I met his stare. I slowly licked my lips, my tongue savoring my strawberry-flavored lip gloss. His pupils dilated and darkened to a dangerous and delicious shade of blue-gray. His tongue darted out to wet his own lips in anticipation. My hand moved to his waist then slid upward. My fingertips grazed his abdomen and chest through the fabric before my palm settled against his sternum. His heartbeat quickened beneath my touch.
“In your dreams, pretty boy,” I murmured through a genuine triumphant smile.
I shoved him lightly and added a deliberate sway to my hips as I walked away, a satisfied grin tugging at my lips.
He barked a soft laugh, following after me. “Fuck, you’re trouble.”
When we arrivedat his apartment—still felt strange to call the place mine—his chef was finishing preparing Henry’s food for the week and offered to make us some dinner, but Henry shook his head and told him to go spend time with his newborn daughter and wife.
