Playing Dirty: Rules of the Game Book Five

by Tharp, Emma

  Holding up the bag of food and coffee, I say, “Truce?”

  She shakes her head and walks in toward the kitchen. It’s not an invite, but she didn’t slam the door in my face.

  I follow her in and set the bag down on the kitchen table.

  She grabs one of the coffees from my hand and takes a sip. A moan escapes her lips. “Just because you brought over good coffee doesn’t mean that I forgive you for standing me up.”

  I’ve got some ass-kissing to do. And her ass, well, I don’t mind kissing it. “I’m really sorry for that. It wasn’t intentional.”

  Setting her cup on the table, she opens the bag and pulls out a bagel sandwich. Having a seat at the table, she crosses her legs. “I took our arrangement seriously. And I took you seriously. I realize now that that was a mistake.” Her tone could freeze ice on a tropical island.

  “Something came up. I had an unexpected visitor show up at my apartment. She wasn’t invited and it was a surprise to see her at my door.” I crack my knuckles. “She’s an ex that didn’t believe things were over.”

  She’s taken a large bite of her breakfast. Holding up a finger, she finishes chewing. “So you couldn’t text me? I find that hard to believe.”

  “Mind if I sit down?” I don’t want to make any assumptions. She’s let me in her apartment, but I still get the strong feeling from her stand-offish behavior that I’m not welcome here. Chloe nods and I have a seat. “I’m going to start at the beginning. When I moved here, I started seeing a woman named Sara. We agreed to be casual and that’s all I wanted it to be. I was honest from the beginning. When I sensed her feelings were changing, I put an end to it.”

  Chloe squints her eyes at me. “When was that?”

  “Months ago.” I have a sip of coffee. “When Sara showed up unexpectedly yesterday, I knew that I needed to be crystal clear with her. She practically begged me to get back together with her.”

  “What did you tell her?” Chloe asks, sitting up straighter.

  I shake my head. “I left her with no doubt about where she stands with me. We are done. I’ve got zero interest in seeing her again. I’m not interested in anyone but you and our arrangement.”

  She rubs at her temples. “Oh, really? How the hell am I supposed to believe you, Marcus?”

  Holding my hand over my heart, I stare into her sapphire eyes. “I’m being honest with you, Chloe. I get that it’d be easier to tell me to get lost, but I want to try and prove to you that I want this to work.”

  She stands and goes to her cupboard, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen. She pops a couple in her mouth and swallows.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. She’s seemed off since I got here, and it’s more than anger.

  “I’m okay. Just a little hungover.”

  “You went out last night?” Since I’ve known her, she’s never been a big drinker.

  She nods and finishes her coffee. “It was a date. We had a couple bottles of wine.”

  A date? What the hell? I’m unreasonably jealous and I’ve got no claim on her. My nostrils flare, but I take a breath to calm down. “Who was he?”

  She waves a dismissive hand. “Nobody you’d know.”

  “Do you like him?” I ask dryly. If he fucking touched her, I might lose my shit.

  “It was someone my brother’s been trying to hook me up with. He was a nice guy.”

  A nice guy, huh? I bet. I’m sure he’s a hell of a lot nicer than I am. I don’t have a prayer with her if she’s into this guy. “Will you see him again? Because if I’m being honest, I don’t like it.”

  She rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t pop out of her head. “Oh, yeah?”

  I’ve got no idea where all of this is coming from. I’m not normally a territorial kind of guy, but everything with Chloe is different. “Yes. And I realize I’ve got no right to have an opinion on who you date, but with our agreement, I just assumed that I’d be the only man you’d be seeing.”

  Her eyebrows spring halfway up her forehead. “Well, when you shit all over our agreement”—she makes air quotes—“it becomes null and void.”

  If this is ever going to work, I’m going to have to bring this down a notch. “I know I messed up. And that’s why I came over this morning. I wanted to apologize and explain to you what happened. Our arrangement can still work. In fact, I can stay now and give you the interview this morning. You can ask me anything you want.” What the hell am I saying? I’ve never wanted to open up to anyone. Ever.

  “Anything?” she asks.

  “If you say that you’ll give this another try, then I’ll be an open book.”

  Chloe’s shoulders relax and the sides of her lips turn up marginally for a split second. “I don’t like being stood up or lied to. If either of those things happen again, the deal is off. Got it?”

  My entire body heats up and my Grinchly excuse for a heart beats faster.

  Twelve

  Chloe

  We take a seat on my couch. Notepad in hand and recorder app going, I finally get my first interview with Marcus. When he showed up at my door today, I almost slammed it in his face, but it was his eyes…they were full of sadness and regret, that’s why I let him in. Oh, and the smell of coffee and breakfast that couldn’t be ignored even with my massive hangover.

  “What got you into playing hockey?” I ask him.

  “There was a rink close to my house. I begged my mom to buy me skates since all my friends in the neighborhood were going. One Christmas she bought me a pair from a secondhand store. Early on, I had a knack for skating. One of the guys who drove the Zamboni told my mother that she should get me into hockey. He’d watched me skate and said I was a natural. I wish I could remember that guy’s name. He’s the reason I am where I am. I doubt my mom would have ever signed me up for hockey if it weren’t for him.” Marcus looks out the window focusing, as if he thinks hard enough, he might be able to figure out the Zamboni driver’s name.

  “What about school? Were you a good student?” I ask, wanting to pull him back from wherever he just went.

  He shakes his head and lets out a chuckle. “Nope. Not really. I got bored with details and did just enough to get by. But I was really good at whatever sport interested me. I had coaches approaching me all the time. I only ended up playing hockey and lacrosse though. They both took up most of my time. Sports kept me out of trouble.”

  The devilish grin on his face does crazy things to my stomach. Why do I always have to be attracted to the bad boys? I could see myself in high school crushing on Marcus hard, falling all over him for attention. “I can see that about you.”

  “Oh, yeah. What about you? Did you play sports in school?” he asks and puts his hand on my thigh. “Don’t tell me you let your perfect athletic body go to waste.”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve got thicker thighs and they did serve me well in sports. “I played soccer in college, but this interview isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

  He rubs his jaw and continues staring shamelessly at my bare legs. “Damn, I would’ve loved to watch you play soccer. Women that are athletic are so sexy.”

  My cheeks heat up. He’s so damn charming. “Thanks. Next question. You’ve played upper level hockey right from the beginning. What was it like to play in Nashville, your first NHL team?”

  He clucks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Overall it was a great experience. Second year I was there we won the Cup. But toward my eighth and final season with them, things started going awry.”

  “Oh, really? How so?” I ask.

  A frown tugs the corners of his mouth. “Well, it started after my fiancée and I broke up. She started dating a teammate of mine and I wasn’t pleased. It was Cole Shaw. And he and I played on the same line. We didn’t gel anymore. It was a shitty situation all around. It was time for me to leave. I was ready.”

  Hmm. He was engaged. Now I want information for selfish reasons and not so much for my piece. “You had a fiancée?”

  “I di
d. It was stupid on my part. I wasn’t ready to be engaged, but I proposed anyway. I’ll probably never be ready for that. And I wasn’t good to her. When we broke up and she started dating Shaw, it was the perfect revenge.” He moves his jaw from side to side. “But I did deserve it. Like I said, I wasn’t a good fiancé.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask before I even have the chance to think.

  “I cheated on her. I’m not proud of that, but it’s what happened,” he says and shrugs.

  I knew it’d be best to guard my heart from Marcus. I was right. “Why did you cheat?”

  “You know, I’ve asked myself that question over and over again. I think some of it has to do with the fact that I’ve never had a decent male role model to teach me how to treat a woman, but that’s a cop-out. What I did learn after things ended with Alex was that I didn’t like the way it felt to hurt her. And I don’t want to feel that way again.”

  “Do you think a cheater can ever be reformed?” Because I’m not so sure.

  He takes a long pull from his water bottle. “Sure. Take us for example. Even though we aren’t technically a couple, I won’t see anyone else while we’re together. It never ends well that way. What about you? You going to see that guy again?”

  I tap my pen against my pad. “No. That isn’t going anywhere. But we’re off topic. You mentioned your mother earlier; you said she wouldn’t have signed you up to play hockey. What about your dad, you mentioned not having a good male role model?”

  He shakes his head and his lips form a tight line. “No, I don’t know my father. He left my mom when she was pregnant with me.” He stares off again, checking out. Creases form in his forehead.

  It’s possible I just crossed the line. “I’m sorry, Marcus. That’s terrible. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

  “No. It’s okay. My mom’s a good woman. She did the best she could with my sister, Katie, and me.” His voice breaks and he clears his throat.

  We sit in silence. I put my pen down and turn off the recorder. Then I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. Gliding my lips over his, I press my tongue into his mouth. Something about a sexy vulnerable man gets me every time.

  * * *

  Sitting at my desk at my office downtown the next morning, I sip my coffee. I’ve been here for the last two hours and finished the first draft of the interview I did with Marcus and have submitted it to David.

  A text alert goes off on my phone. It's David asking me to come back to his office. My heart hammers away. He's been here all morning as well. He must have read my article.

  My heels click on the floor as I walk down the short corridor and turn into David's office. His desk is covered in paper, both newspapers and files. It's in complete disarray.

  David's glasses are sitting on the edge of his nose and he’s staring intently at one of the morning newspapers. His brown hair is thinning and a bald spot is forming at the back of his head. He looks up when he sees me. "Chloe, have a seat." He points at the chair across from his desk.

  "Good morning," I say as I sit down and cross my legs, smoothing out my black pencil skirt.

  He removes his glasses and sets them on the desk in front of him. "I read what you sent over. Great article. I’m very proud of your work."

  I release a long breath that I didn't even realize I was holding. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that."

  David taps away on his keyboard and looks at me. "Do you think you could get another interview with him? We could add it to the front page of the section. We have room next week."

  Nodding, I say, “Yes, I think so."

  "Good. See if you can get even more details. Some juicy stuff."

  "Of course." I purposely left out a few of his more vulnerable details. It just didn't feel right. But the interview is packed with information that he has only told me and has never been out in the press before.

  "Great. I look forward to seeing it." He puts his reading glasses back on and picks up a different newspaper and starts to read it.

  That's my cue to leave. I make my way out of his office and back to my desk. I'm not sitting for more than five seconds before my co-worker, Nikki, saunters over to me and leans her hip on my desk. "I hear you got a one-on-one interview with Marcus Reid. I'm jealous."

  Word does spread fast in the sports journalism department. Nikki and I are definitely close, but I haven't opened up with her about Marcus yet. I wasn’t ever going to tell her about the fact that he and I are sleeping together, that doesn't need to get out to anyone. But I also didn't tell her that I got an interview with him because I wasn't sure if it was definitely going to happen. "Yes, I did interview him and I'm going to get another one soon."

  Her perfectly shaped and filled-in eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Really? He's so sexy. Tell me what he's really like."

  Talking to anyone about Marcus feels like I'm sharing something very intimate. "He's a bad boy on the outside, but I think he's got a good guy deep inside somewhere." I smirk.

  "Ooh. That makes him even hotter."

  All I can do is giggle. Marcus is a very handsome man, you'd have to be blind not to see it, but hearing it from someone else and seeing her reaction somehow makes me have a deeper appreciation for him.

  Nikki pushes her long red hair over her shoulder and says, "What are your plans for the weekend?"

  "I’m going to my parents’ place and my brother and his family will be there. It’s the American Thanksgiving. My mom is from New York so we celebrate both Canadian and American Thanksgivings. What about you?"

  "I’ve got a Tinder date Saturday night. I’m a little tired of the dating scene, but I’ve got to keep trying." She scoots herself off my desk and walks toward her own. "Let's do lunch soon," she calls over her shoulder.

  "Sounds good."

  I tug my phone out of my purse and send Marcus a text inviting him to my parents place for Thanksgiving dinner.

  Thirteen

  Marcus

  "Can you please pass the gravy, Marcus?" Charles, Chloe's father, asks in his booming, jovial voice.

  Picking up the delicate crystal boat, I hand it to him. "The meal is delicious, Susan," I tell Chloe's mother. She's a beautiful woman. She looks exactly like her daughter with a few extra lines around her eyes and mouth.

  "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Feel free to have seconds." Susan lifts the platter full of turkey and passes it in my general direction.

  I take it from her and give myself an extra piece even though I'm so full I could burst.

  "Can I please have another roll?" Clark, Hudson—Chloe’s brother—and his wife Caitlin's six-year-old son, asks.

  "Me, too," their daughter, little Amelia, says in her squeaky four-year-old voice.

  “Sure. Here you go.” Caitlin dutifully picks up two rolls from the basket and puts one on each of her children's plates.

  "You had one hell of a night against Nashville last week. It must've felt good to play so well against your old team," Hudson says.

  Chloe rolls her eyes and lifts a forkful of green beans toward her mouth. "Hud, don't you think Marcus has talked enough about hockey tonight?"

  I rest my hand on her thigh. "It's fine by me as long as we aren’t boring the rest of the table."

  "You'll never bore us. We love our sports here in the Williams family," Charles says before taking a sip of his scotch.

  I've been able to sense that since I walked in the door of their immaculate home. When I saw Charles’s “man cave," that's when I knew that sports were life for him. He's got photos, signed jerseys, and memorabilia from many of the Toronto teams and players through the years. It's very impressive.

  To say I was surprised to get an invite to Thanksgiving dinner with Chloe is an understatement. I questioned whether it was a good idea or not. Meeting someone’s family is a big step in anyone’s relationship, and I’m not quite sure how to classify what Chloe and I have. But this invitation was one I couldn't say no to. I've been in
the doghouse with Chloe for long enough. It's time that I get back in her good graces.

  It was a 45-minute drive outside of Toronto to get to the Williams’ home in Mississauga. There aren't many properties with land that I've seen until we got here. The house has a three-car garage and is built with the finest stonework I've ever seen. With acres of land and a massive inground pool, they have a piece of property that's worth a pretty penny. Inside is stunning. The great room has similar stonework as the exterior, with a massive fireplace and high ceilings. Everything in the home is state-of-the-art, from the entertainment system to the appliances in the kitchen. Chloe told me that her father is an engineer but didn't elaborate and that her mom was a stay-at-home mother.

  I help bring my dishes and some of the plates of food to the sink where Susan, Chloe, and Caitlin start the process of cleaning up. One thing I know how to do is help clean up. My mother and sister made sure I always contributed at home. We never had much, but we took care of what we had.

  "Join me for some scotch in the den," Charles says after he sets his plate next to the sink.

  Clark and Amelia head toward the living room where they left all of their toys from earlier. “Come play with us, Daddy!” Amelia yells.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes, baby.” Hudson leans down and kisses his daughter’s cheek.

  “Okay.” Amelia bolts off to the living room.

  Hudson and I follow Charles down the hallway to the man cave where we have a seat and Charles turns on the football game.

  I have a seat in one of the cushy oversized leather chairs and realize that this is what a normal Thanksgiving looks like. The family coming together for a meal and enjoying each other's company. The noise of children playing in the background and dishes clanking in the kitchen are what Thanksgiving is meant to sound like. It was never like that in our house. Mom worked a couple of jobs and usually had to work on Thanksgiving. My sister, Katie, always took care of me as best she could. But there was never turkey, stuffing, and gravy.