Played (Trapped Book 3) Page 2

  “We could rent something else.” Chloe glances around to gauge how her suggestion is going over with everyone else.

  “Not on my account,” I firmly insist. “You guys have to see it. The movie is great.” And I’d rather gnaw my arm off than sit through a movie with Josh and his girlfriend cuddling feet away from me.

  Never mind the closest he and I had ever come to cuddling was in bed.

  When we were naked.

  In those moments after sex.

  And sometimes I’d held on a bit too long. But the second I realized what I was doing, I was quick to create a distance—physical as well as emotional. Josh had never given any indication that he wanted anything more than an orgasm, and I’d been okay with that.

  Or at least I thought I had been.

  A month into our arrangement I knew I was getting too attached and that if I didn’t end it soon, I’d be the one left holding my heart in my hand when it was over. But sex with Josh was like a drug, and I’d been completely addicted. Breaking things off with him had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.

  Tonight, though, I feel like an alcoholic at a bar. If his girlfriend wasn’t here, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have fallen completely off the wagon and tried to get a fix.

  God, this sucks.

  “Actually, I was only going to stay for a few. I have to call my agent back. She sent me a few listings to check out.” A little white lie. I’d put a slight pause on the apartment search.

  Josh’s girlfriend’s blue eyes light with interest. “House hunting?”

  “Apartment,” I clarify.

  But Chloe isn’t finished yet. “Will it be your first?”

  Since it would be rude of me to say, ‘I used to have sex with your boyfriend. Now will you leave me alone?’ I instead reply, “Yes.” Short and to the point.

  “Oh, how exciting.” She gives a little bounce in her seat.

  Wonderful. Pretty, perky and blonde, the dreaded nightmare trifecta. Why can’t she be one of those stuck-up blondes with the depth of a thumbtack and the warmth of freezer burned ice cream? At least give me a reason to hate her that has nothing to do with her boyfriend.

  “Whereabouts are you looking?” Josh’s tone is casual as his arm curls around his girlfriend’s shoulder.

  She peers up at him, happily pressing closer to his side. Because apparently the millimeter between them had been too much.

  I tighten my hold on the strap of my handbag. “In the city.” Josh lives in the Buckhead area and my search is centered due south and closer to downtown.

  “Josh’s apartment is gorgeous. You should see if there’s anything available in his building.”

  I blink. Who the hell is she? And what planet is she from? I can’t believe she’s encouraging me to get an apartment in the same building as her boyfriend. I’ve never considered myself particularly vain—not unhealthily so—but come on…seriously?

  Perhaps she’s simply secure in their relationship and she trusts him not to stray.

  Usually I’d applaud monogamy but…ugh.

  “I’m looking to lease not buy.” Josh lives in a very expensive high-rise of condos. Not only is something like that out of my personal budget but Josh lives there and I’m on the wagon. It’d be like an alcoholic living right next to the damn bar.

  “I know a few places you might like,” Josh says, idly playing with the ends of his girlfriend’s shoulder-length hair.

  Um no. “That’s okay. My dad’s agent is on the job. She knows Atlanta real estate inside and out.”

  When he smiles and shrugs as if he doesn’t give a shit, I have to will myself not to react outwardly.

  What the hell is wrong with him?

  No, what the hell is wrong with you?

  Sigh. I know, I’m being ridiculous. This is what being near Josh does to me. Which means it’s way past time to go. “Anyway, I better get—”

  “Are you sure you won’t stay?” Chloe’s expression is hopeful and I’m still trying to decide whether her seeming friendliness is genuine.

  I force a smile and tuck a long strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I really have to go.”

  Whether Josh is relieved by my imminent departure is hard to tell. And I’m not sure if it makes the situation better or worse that he doesn’t appear fazed by any of it. Me being here. Me meeting his girlfriend. You know, the one he didn’t want when we were…doing whatever the hell it was we were doing.

  “At least take some food home with you.”

  Ever the mother, Paige usually refuses to let me leave without a container or two of food, especially since our housekeeper retired six months ago and my parents now use the house as a layover between my father’s business trips and their vacations, which is why I’m not in a hurry to move out. This month they’re in Japan where my father’s company is opening a new office.

  “Well, if you insist,” I say lightly. “Lead the way.”

  Their kitchen is similar to ours, spacious with a large center island and granite countertops. But where the appliances here are a lovely brushed bronze and the floors a medium hardwood, my mother had opted for stainless steel appliances and grey slate floors.

  The center island is arrayed with a spread more worthy of a tailgating party than movie night: a platter of buffalo wings, a mound of cheesy nachos, mini pepperoni pizzas and my favorite, golden-brown mozzarella sticks.

  Paige, who’s been watching me closely since we entered, solemnly regards me. “Are you okay?”

  No, I’m not okay but I’m not going to admit to that. Instead I adopt a blasé attitude, the tone of my voice expressing the barest hint of self-deprecation. “You might have given me a heads-up that you’re now hanging out with Josh and his girlfriend.”

  A shadow crosses her face. “I-I wanted to. I mean, this is only the second time we’ve hung out and only because I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

  I give her shoulder a comforting pat. “Just kidding. I don’t mind that you have another couple to do couple things with,” I lie and snag a mozzarella stick from the tray.

  There’s silence as I dunk it in the marinara sauce and take a bite. I barely get a chance to savor the salty cheesiness of it before Paige says, “I was going to tell you but every time I bring him up—”

  I hold a hand up to halt her words. I know. I know. I would always shut her down because it was easier not to talk about Josh. Although it’s been a lot harder not to think about him.

  “Look, Paige, I’m fine.” I’ve been better, but that’s life. The situation is what it is. “Just kind of caught me off guard.” I huff a laugh. “That’s what I get for dropping by without calling.”

  The hand she props on her hip tells me she’s not buying half of what I’m saying. She knows me too well. The whole thing reminds me of all the times she used to insist she was over Mitch. She swore up and down that she wouldn’t take him back if he crawled on his hands and knees over broken glass. While I’d prayed she meant it, a part of me always knew his bloody palms and knees would eventually wear her down. He loved her and she loved him. The end. But thank goodness, a happy one.

  “Don’t even. You know you’re welcome here any time.”

  I offer her a faint smile. Best friends simply don’t come better than my beautiful, five-foot-four-inch defender.

  “So, what are you feeding me? I hope you’re including some of this stuff too.” I wave a hand over the appetizers spread out on the countertop, ready to get off the subject of Josh and eager to go home.

  Ten minutes later, I’m laden down with three glass containers of food. Not only does Paige pack the honey mustard salmon and garlic and cheese stuffed potatoes she made for dinner, but enough of the appetizers to keep me indulging for days.

  Our return to the family room finds Chloe and Mitch exchanging small talk while Bree sits on her father’s lap rubbing her eyes and clutching a half-eaten pretzel. Josh is noticeably absent. I make it a point not to ask about his whereabouts and no one feels
the need to offer it.

  Determined to make my exit before he gets back, I give my goddaughter a hug and kiss and say goodbye to Mitch and Chloe.

  “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you again,” Chloe says, all smiles and pink cheeks.

  I make a noncommittal sound before preceding Paige out of the room.

  The moment we’re out of earshot, I send her a sidelong glance. “She’s friendly.” My tone is positively deadpan.

  Soft amusement lights her eyes. “She moved here from Nebraska six months ago. She’s trying to make friends.”

  I don’t want to be her friend. “You mean Josh isn’t enough?”

  “Girl friends,” Paige gently chides before veering away to grab my jacket from the hall closet.

  I roll my eyes and hand her the green canvas shopping bag of food to hold while I shrug it on.

  We share a quick hug at the door. “Call me when you get home.”

  “Yes, mom.”

  Once she sees I’m safely in the car, the food stashed on the floor in the back, Paige waves goodbye and closes the door. Only then do I release a shuddery breath and rest my forehead on the padded steering wheel.

  What a night.

  It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling. To do that, I have to wade through a myriad of emotions. I’d like to think that my reaction to Chloe has more to do with pride than jealousy but the ache in my heart tells me that’s wishful thinking.

  When Josh and I got together, he’d been adamant about not wanting anything more than sex. I’d agreed because, at the time, that’s all I’d wanted. I certainly wasn’t going to ask for more than he was offering. Sex without strings wasn’t something I’d ever done before, but if it was the only thing on the table, why not with a guy I’d secretly hate-crushed on for years?

  I’ll tell you why not. Because mixing emotions with sex is like trying to operate an eighteen-wheeler for the first time. They are large and unwieldy and almost impossible to control around those tight turns.

  There’s a reason I’ve never been into one-night stands, and it’s not for the lack of desire or opportunity. It’s because, for me, sex isn’t simply about physical pleasure. It goes much deeper than that. Which is why I’ve only had sex with three guys in my life, including Josh.

  The unexpected knock on my window has my head popping up with a start and my heart seizing in my chest. Amidst the frenetic pounding, I turn to find Josh peering through the window at me.

  Chapter Three

  Erin

  My hands tremble ever so slightly as I start the car and lower the window.

  “Jesus, Josh, you scared me to death,” I exclaim softly. A swift look around reveals no one else is lurking in the bushes. “What are you doing out here?”

  “What’s wrong? Got something on your mind?” His tone conveys only mild concern at finding me head down clutching the steering wheel.

  I ignore the question, annoyed that he caught me unaware. “Does your girlfriend know you’re out here?” Keeping bitterness from my voice is a Herculean task, one I’m not certain I accomplish.

  “Is that what this is about? Chloe?” he asks, widening his stance and shoving a hand in his front jean pocket, the other one clutching his cell phone.

  What did I tell you about the size of his ego? Big, just like the size of his—

  Forget I said that.

  “Is what about?” My defenses go up, snapping and locking into place like guardrails. “I’m going home, which is why I’m in my car. You, on the other hand, still haven’t explained what you’re doing out here.”

  He holds up his iPhone. “I had to take a call.”

  I take a pointed look around. “Outside?”

  “I needed the privacy.”

  I could name a number of rooms in the house—including the home office—that would have served his purpose and wouldn’t require him standing outside in the dark.

  “And fresh air,” he added as if reading my mind. “Plus, I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

  My surprised gaze meets his. Talk to me about what? Before I can process what’s happening, he circles the car and slides into the passenger seat.

  “What are you doing?” I hate the way my pulse accelerates at his proximity and his oversized presence.

  “We need to talk.” He pushes the lever on the side to move the seat back and make room for his long legs. Paige was the last person to ride with me and he’s considerably taller.

  “About?” Did seeing me today make him realize I should be the one snuggled up beside him on the couch?

  “I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

  My gaze narrows. Oh my God, is that pity I hear in his voice? “You mean because of your girlfriend?” I ask in a voice whose deception lies in the softness of its tone.

  If anyone appears awkward now, it’s him, as if only just realizing how full of himself he sounds. He clears his throat and gestures toward the house. “You looked uncomfortable in there.”

  My spine snaps arrow straight. “If by uncomfortable you mean annoyed, then yes. You were sitting in my chair. Beyond that, I really couldn’t give two hoots who you date.” The lie glides off my tongue, my stung pride easing its way.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. Sue me for being concerned.” He’s all persecuted male now, his hands up defensively.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t need your concern. You seem to be forgetting that I’m the one who called it quits.”

  Me. He’d actually tried to talk me out of it—albeit not hard enough. Now he has the nerve to act as if nothing happened between us. As if we hadn’t spent countless hours burning up the thousand-thread-count sheets on his king-sized bed. He’s delusional if he thinks our relationship can go back to the way it once was. The years of playful bickering had been foreplay that could have only led to one place.

  And just like that I’m reminded of our last time together; his expression sated and his jaw whisker-rough as I straddled him on his bed. In that moment, I’d felt my heart clench. Once the clenching stopped, the aching began, and a terrifying realization dawned.

  I could easily fall for this ridiculously sexy man; a man too smart and good-looking for both his and my own good. Mostly mine.

  Dear God, what if I already have?

  And that’s when I knew I had to end it. You know, because Josh doesn’t “do” relationships and his trust issues with women stretch a mile wide, something my best friend experienced firsthand.

  Josh might be at the been there, done that stage in his life but unfortunately for me, I’m not quite done with that. In fact, I find myself wanting it more than ever these days. Wanting him.

  But he doesn’t want me. Not that there’d been anything between us but good healthy lust. Certainly not on his part. And now he has Chloe to satisfy that.

  Josh’s expression shutters and his hands abruptly drop to his thighs. “And here I thought that if we couldn’t be friends, we could at least be civil.”

  Okay, now I’m pissed. “I wouldn’t have a problem with that if you’d get off your high horse. Oh, poor Erin. She must be devastated now that I have a girlfriend. How will she ever get over me?” It’s juvenile to mimic him but I’m in an I-don’t-give-a-fuck mood. “I suggest you get over yourself. There wasn’t anything for me to get over.”

  Although the dashboard isn’t emitting enough light to cast his face in anything but variegated shades of gray, the tick in his jaw is noticeable enough and I can feel his growing frustration. It’s a pulsating force.

  Sighing, he gives his head a weary shake, his voice expressing much of the same. “I don’t know why I try with you.”

  Try with me? He’s got to be kidding.

  What he did was play me for a fool. All the time he said he didn’t want to be in a relationship—that he “didn’t have time” for one—what he really meant is that he didn’t want to be in one with me.

  I’m good enough to fuck but when he went girlfri
end shopping, he picked someone who’s the polar opposite of me. In almost every way. All I’d ever been was a layover to his ultimate destination and now he’s exactly where he wants to be.

  With somebody else.

  I do the only thing I know how, which is to bury my hurt under a mound of anger. “Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend. I’m sure your efforts won’t be wasted on her.”

  The ensuing silence is deafening, thick with both tension and anger. He’s staring at me, but the darkness makes it impossible for me to predict what he’s going to say next. He isn’t particularly easy to read under the glare of a spotlight much less cloaked in darkness.

  Then I watch in a growing sense of bewilderment as he climbs out of the car and closes the door.

  He’s leaving? Just like that?

  I know I told him to go but he’s supposed to put up a fight. That’s how things have always been between us. He’d do or say something to annoy me and I’d push, and he’d push back.

  I continue to watch as he proceeds up the walkway and into the house, not once looking back. The sound of the front door shutting closed behind him carries a finality that has me swallowing the lump that recently formed in my throat.

  Well I guess that’s that.

  I back out of the driveway and head home to a big empty house, regretting the fateful day I made the mistake of letting Josh Marshall into my bed. And other places.

  Chapter Four

  Two summers ago

  Erin

  Southern Nights is the “It” spot in Atlanta but that’s not what brings me here tonight. I’m here because Maggie, my former college suite mate, is in town and begged me to go out with her. I selected Southern Nights because it’s one of the hottest nightclubs in Atlanta—and for reasons I’d rather not get into.

  A decision I’m currently rethinking.

  There are few things I hate more than walking into a night club alone and finding myself even more so forty minutes later. Maggie and I were supposed to meet at the door at ten so we could walk in together, but she texted a half hour ago to let me know she’s running late.