Beautiful Player
Page 102
“What are you still doing here?” I asked, stepping just inside the room and leaning against the doorway.
Max looked up from where he’d been resting his head in his hands when I walked into his office. “Sara’s out with Chloe. Just decided to work a bit late.” He studied me, mouth turning down at the corners. “And I thought you left a few hours ago. Why are you back? It’s Tuesday . . .”
We stared at each other for a beat, the implied question hanging between us. It had been so long since I’d spent a Tuesday night with Kitty, I don’t think even Max knew exactly what he was asking.
“I saw Kitty tonight,” I admitted. “Earlier, just for a bit.”
His brows pulled together in irritation, but I held up a hand, explaining: “I asked her to meet me for a drink after work—”
“Seriously, Will, you’re a right toss—”
“To end it, you ass,” I growled, frustrated. “Even though things with her were always meant to be casual, I wanted her to know they were done. I haven’t seen her in forever but she still checks in every Monday to ask. The fact that she even thinks it’s a possibility made me feel like I’ve been cheating on Hanna.”
Just saying that name out loud made my stomach twist. The way we had left things tonight had been a mess. I’d never seen her look so distant, so closed off. I clenched my jaw, looking over at the wall.
I knew she’d been lying; I just didn’t know why.
Max’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “So what are you doing here? Where is your Hanna?”
I blinked back over to him, finally taking in his appearance. He looked tired, and shaken, and . . . not at all like Max, even at the end of a long workday.
“What’s with you?” I asked instead of answering. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
Finally he laughed, shaking his head. “Mate, you have no idea. Let’s collect Ben and go grab a pint.”
We got to the bar before Bennett did, but not by much. Just as we sat at a table in the back, near the dartboards and the broken karaoke machine, Bennett strode in still wearing his crisp dark suit and a look of such utter exhaustion I wondered how long the three of us would manage to remain conscious.
“You sure are making me drink a lot on weeknights lately, Will,” Bennett mumbled, taking a seat.
“So order a soda,” I said.
We both looked at Max, expecting his usual semi-serious and barely intelligible rant about the blasphemy of ordering a Diet Coke in a British pub, but he just remained uncharacteristically quiet, staring at the menu and then ordering what he always ordered: a pint of Guinness, a cheeseburger, and chips.
Maddie took the rest of our orders and disappeared. We were back on yet another Tuesday night and, just as before, the bar was almost empty. A strange quietness seemed to ring our table. It was as if none of us could get it up tonight to bother shit-talking.
“Really, though. What’s up with you?” I asked Max again.
He smiled at me—a genuine Max smile—but then shook his head. “Ask me again after I’ve had two pints.” Grinning up at Maddie as she put our drinks on the table, he gave her a little wink. “Thanks, love.”
“The text from Max said we are convening at Maddie’s for a girls’ night out,” Bennett said, and then took a sip of his beer. “So which of Will’s women are we discussing tonight?”
“There’s only the one woman, now,” I murmured. “And Hanna ended it earlier tonight, so I guess technically there are no women.” Both men looked up at me, eyes concerned. “She said, essentially she didn’t want this.”
“Fuck,” Max murmured, rubbing his face in his hands.
“The thing is,” I said, “I think she’s full of shit.”
“Will . . .” Bennett cautioned.
“No,” I said, waving him off, and feeling a surge of relief, of realization as I thought more about it. Yes, she’d been pissed tonight at her place—and I still had no idea why—but I remembered how it felt making love on the floor this weekend, in the middle of the night, and the hunger in her eyes like she didn’t just want me, she was starting to need me.
“I know she feels this, too. Something happened between us this weekend,” I told them. “The sex has always been f**king amazing, but it was so intense at her parents’ place.”
Bennett coughed. “Sorry. You had sex at her parents’ place?”
I chose to believe his ambiguous tone meant impressed, so I continued: “It was like she was finally going to admit there was more between us than just sex and friendship.” I lifted my water glass to my lips, took a sip. “But the next morning, she snapped closed. She’s talking herself out of it.”
Max looked up from where he’d been resting his head in his hands when I walked into his office. “Sara’s out with Chloe. Just decided to work a bit late.” He studied me, mouth turning down at the corners. “And I thought you left a few hours ago. Why are you back? It’s Tuesday . . .”
We stared at each other for a beat, the implied question hanging between us. It had been so long since I’d spent a Tuesday night with Kitty, I don’t think even Max knew exactly what he was asking.
“I saw Kitty tonight,” I admitted. “Earlier, just for a bit.”
His brows pulled together in irritation, but I held up a hand, explaining: “I asked her to meet me for a drink after work—”
“Seriously, Will, you’re a right toss—”
“To end it, you ass,” I growled, frustrated. “Even though things with her were always meant to be casual, I wanted her to know they were done. I haven’t seen her in forever but she still checks in every Monday to ask. The fact that she even thinks it’s a possibility made me feel like I’ve been cheating on Hanna.”
Just saying that name out loud made my stomach twist. The way we had left things tonight had been a mess. I’d never seen her look so distant, so closed off. I clenched my jaw, looking over at the wall.
I knew she’d been lying; I just didn’t know why.
Max’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “So what are you doing here? Where is your Hanna?”
I blinked back over to him, finally taking in his appearance. He looked tired, and shaken, and . . . not at all like Max, even at the end of a long workday.
“What’s with you?” I asked instead of answering. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
Finally he laughed, shaking his head. “Mate, you have no idea. Let’s collect Ben and go grab a pint.”
We got to the bar before Bennett did, but not by much. Just as we sat at a table in the back, near the dartboards and the broken karaoke machine, Bennett strode in still wearing his crisp dark suit and a look of such utter exhaustion I wondered how long the three of us would manage to remain conscious.
“You sure are making me drink a lot on weeknights lately, Will,” Bennett mumbled, taking a seat.
“So order a soda,” I said.
We both looked at Max, expecting his usual semi-serious and barely intelligible rant about the blasphemy of ordering a Diet Coke in a British pub, but he just remained uncharacteristically quiet, staring at the menu and then ordering what he always ordered: a pint of Guinness, a cheeseburger, and chips.
Maddie took the rest of our orders and disappeared. We were back on yet another Tuesday night and, just as before, the bar was almost empty. A strange quietness seemed to ring our table. It was as if none of us could get it up tonight to bother shit-talking.
“Really, though. What’s up with you?” I asked Max again.
He smiled at me—a genuine Max smile—but then shook his head. “Ask me again after I’ve had two pints.” Grinning up at Maddie as she put our drinks on the table, he gave her a little wink. “Thanks, love.”
“The text from Max said we are convening at Maddie’s for a girls’ night out,” Bennett said, and then took a sip of his beer. “So which of Will’s women are we discussing tonight?”
“There’s only the one woman, now,” I murmured. “And Hanna ended it earlier tonight, so I guess technically there are no women.” Both men looked up at me, eyes concerned. “She said, essentially she didn’t want this.”
“Fuck,” Max murmured, rubbing his face in his hands.
“The thing is,” I said, “I think she’s full of shit.”
“Will . . .” Bennett cautioned.
“No,” I said, waving him off, and feeling a surge of relief, of realization as I thought more about it. Yes, she’d been pissed tonight at her place—and I still had no idea why—but I remembered how it felt making love on the floor this weekend, in the middle of the night, and the hunger in her eyes like she didn’t just want me, she was starting to need me.
“I know she feels this, too. Something happened between us this weekend,” I told them. “The sex has always been f**king amazing, but it was so intense at her parents’ place.”
Bennett coughed. “Sorry. You had sex at her parents’ place?”
I chose to believe his ambiguous tone meant impressed, so I continued: “It was like she was finally going to admit there was more between us than just sex and friendship.” I lifted my water glass to my lips, took a sip. “But the next morning, she snapped closed. She’s talking herself out of it.”
