Players

by Rachel Cross

  “So what if I notice attractive women? I’m not stepping out on you.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “What the fuck, Amy? I’ve been faithful.”

  “Have you really, I mean, in your head?”

  “What?” he said, harshly.

  “It’s not that you notice women.” She paused, trying to put into words what bothered her most about his mother’s comments. “It’s the way you look at them, like you’re fantasizing about bending them over the nearest object.”

  He backed away from her, the skin over his cheekbones flushed with anger, his hands clenched into fists. He laughed, but it was forced. “So now you know what I’m thinking? I had no idea you were so insecure.”

  “Fuck you. Men who do what you do—ogle women—always say ’don’t be insecure, baby, if I appreciate what’s out there. I’m not going to stray’ or ’all men do it, whether you notice or not.’ But I am secure in myself. The way you look at other women when we are out doesn’t say anything about me, but it says a whole helluva lot about you.” Now if she could convince herself of that, she’d be golden.

  He stared at her clenched jaw. “What does it say?”

  “That you’re a man who objectifies women. You did it to me, too, before you knew me. Before we became friends. But it’s more understandable now. I mean, if I were raised by Mandy Marx, I’d be a misogynist too.”

  “A what?”

  “A misogynist. It’s a—”

  “I know what the word means, Amy. I don’t know how you could apply it to me. My problem isn’t that I hate women, quite the opposite.”

  “Bullshit. Your interactions with women are almost exclusively sexual. Even our relationship, Shane. Despite the fact that we started out as friends and I care about you, haven’t you noticed the . . . shift?”

  Fury was etched into his face. “What are you talking about?”

  “You use women.” She took a breath. “You use me.”

  “You feel used?” His tone, his very demeanor, was incredulous.

  “You don’t want to have sex with me. You need to. It’s different. And coming out here with you, it’s apparent. Between your mom and TruAchord . . . ”

  Shane stood and walked as far across the room from her as he could get—to the sink area outside the bathroom. “I’m sorry you’ve noticed me appreciating other women. I know some women can’t handle it.”

  Amy held onto her temper with an effort. Of course he was defensive. “Stop trying to shift this onto me. Healthy guys in monogamous relationships don’t check out every woman between eighteen and fifty. They just don’t. I’ve had my share of relationships—”

  “Oh they’re checking them out. Maybe they’re more subtle about it.”

  She considered his words. “Maybe. But that’s the most obvious part, Shane. Your history is a nearly monogamy-free existence. All the problems you’ve had the last few years are based around women—even the issue between you and your brother-in-law.”

  He recoiled.

  She watched the fury burning, a flush crept up his neck. “I can’t believe you would throw that in my face. I was young and she was stupid. And you don’t know Hollywood. You don’t know what it’s like, for an actor.”

  “Really? All celebrities have photos of their junk out there? All of them have trouble on set because they’re sleeping with their co-star and members of the crew at the same time?”

  He drew himself up, eyes sparking with anger. “That’s not—”

  “That’s not what happened? Don’t lie to me. I’ve got friends who worked at Enchanted but now work in Hollywood. Your reputation isn’t all lies. And it isn’t ‘the women’ out to get you. The common denominator is you.”

  He gaped at her. “I thought you knew me.”

  “I do. And I care about you. A lot. More than I expected to when I embarked on this thing. I wanted to keep things casual with you, but it’s evolved.”

  “I’ve been faithful.”

  “Congratulations. That’s the second time you’ve brought it up. Like you think you should be entitled to some kind of prize or . . . or medal. We’ve never talked about it, but I’m faithful to you also. And it’s no hardship, but it’s not exactly smooth sailing for you, is it?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You have guys crawling all over you. At the rink, at bars, here.”

  “So? It’s not like I’m tempted. Monogamy—fidelity—it’s not a struggle.”

  He couldn’t meet her eyes.

  Her heart lurched. “Is it a struggle for you?” she said, softly, trying to keep the pain from her voice.

  “No,” he said. He strode forward and grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet off the bureau. “I’m going to go get us some lunch, then we’ll get out of this shithole.”

  He slammed the door behind him.

  Amy dashed away angry tears.

  • • •

  By the time he came back with two bags of Subway sandwiches and chips, Amy had all her stuff packed and was sitting on the bed, avoiding his eyes.

  He tossed a bag to her, which she caught, but she didn’t open.

  Fine.

  His cell phone rang and he checked the number. “Goddamn it.” He answered with, “Nat?”

  “Shane? Have you left yet?” He could barely make out what she was saying, her words were so garbled by tears.

  “No, we’re checking out now. What’s wrong?”

  “He . . . he left,” Natalie wailed. “I threatened to do it without him with your money, and he walked out the door.”

  He closed his eyes and slumped, defeated. “Damn it, Natalie.”

  “We’re both so exhausted, spiritually and emotionally from all the failures. From getting our hopes up for years, Shane. We’ve been doing this for an eternity and I . . . I want to hold a baby in my arms,” she said, piteously bursting into a fresh round of tears. He gave Amy a helpless look and made what he hoped were soothing sounds into the phone. “Where’d he go?” Shane asked.

  “Why?” she asked. “You can’t talk to him. No one can reason with him. Either he has a baby with me or I have one without him. Even if I have to go to the sperm bank.”

  “Calm down, calm down. Okay? I’ll stop over with Amy in a bit.”

  Shane disconnected the phone and started packing.

  Amy came over to help, bringing his clothes, his toiletry bag.

  All of this was his fault. He’d fucked things up for his sister, he was fucking things up with Amy. It never failed. His bad choices meant he couldn’t help her. Why oh why hadn’t he kept his dick in his pants seven years ago? He’d known how bad an idea it was to screw his married sister-in-law. He knew how immature she was. But in the heat of the moment, with all the stress of dealing with his mom, his dad’s death, and the pressure of being the town’s “favorite son,” he’d needed an outlet that night. He was stupid and selfish and shortsighted. And Danica had thrown herself at him since he’d arrived in town.

  Shane sat on the edge of the bed, everything packed around him, Amy in the bathroom. He heard the door open and close but didn’t raise his head from his hand. His throat thick, he studied her perfect, pink toenails peeking out of strappy sandals on the beige carpet. He took a deep breath, ready to do whatever it took—beg if he had to, admit she was right—when her arms came around him.

  Her palms smoothed through his hair and made long strokes down his back.

  He took a shuddering breath and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “I know,” she said giving his hair a tug.

  “Natalie threatened to use my money for the procedure. Jesse left her.”

  Her indrawn breath was loud in the quiet room.

  He lifted his head from where it nestled in her warm, flat belly. “Talk to him,” she insisted. “Accept responsibility. It was a boy who did those things seven years ago.”

  “You don’t know Jesse.”

  “No, but I’m betting he’s matured. And so have
you. It can’t hurt.”

  • • •

  Shane steered the rented sedan up the steep driveway to Miles Contracting. He parked and Amy gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

  Through the windscreen he spotted Jesse, in jeans, a tank top, and a Titans ball cap, wiping his hands on a rag, scowling at them.

  He emerged from the car and hailed the other man.

  Jesse jerked his head. “My office,” he growled.

  Jesse and Natalie had started dating their junior year of high school when Shane was a freshman. The oldest in a family of six kids, Jesse had been the man in his family after his dad left. He’d treated Shane like a younger brother, looking out for him. Jesse wasn’t the first relationship his sister had, but he was the last. And how had Shane paid Jesse back? Screwing his kid sister in a coatroom, then later in his hotel bed. The next day she told a friend, who told a friend, and it was all over town and whispered in Danica’s husband’s ear before Natalie and Jesse had even left for their honeymoon.

  By then they’d both realized how badly they’d messed up, but there was no going back. Danica was divorced and living with her mom six months later and re-married a year after that.

  Guilt and shame didn’t begin to cover it.

  Shane leaned against the wall of the dimly lit office as Jesse settled himself into the chair behind the desk. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “To fix this.” He gestured between them.

  “There’s no fixing it.”

  “I know I made a mistake. A horrible mistake. I was stupid and immature—”

  “From what I hear, nothing’s changed there.”

  “—and so was she. And while it’s fine that you continue to loathe me from afar, you’re making my sister’s life a living hell.”

  Jesse shot to his feet. “Me?”

  “Yeah. I fucked up. Danica fucked up. What the hell does that have to do with you?”

  “She’s my kid sister and you wrecked her marriage. Now she lives in a trailer.”

  “She wrecked her own marriage. And from what I hear, she proceeded to wreck another one after that. So go ahead and blame me for the first one. I take full responsibility. I’ll give you a crack at me. Take a swing. I won’t defend myself.” Shane took two steps forward. “But for Chrissakes, man. You have got to stop punishing my sister for loving me as much as you love your own.”

  His brother-in-law’s expression was stunned. “I don’t . . . I’m not.”

  “You are.” He sighed. “You made her choose a long time ago and she chose you, with my blessing. You won’t allow me in your house. You don’t go with her when she comes to see me. You make her feel guilty. You’ve been driving a wedge between us since you’ve been married. I’ve been paying the price for my folly for seven years and staying away, because I know how painful it is for her to know what you think of me.” Shane gulped. “But you’re making her pay that same price. And it isn’t fair. This isn’t about the money or your pride, it’s about cutting off your nose to spite your face. Well, congratulations. Now we’re all suffering.”

  Jesse stared at him, motionless.

  “I’ve made piles of money, and my investor has turned around and made piles more. And if I can buy my sister a chance at happiness, I’ll take it. Take fuckin’ all of it, if it would make peace between us and give my sister the baby she’s so desperate to have.”

  “I’m not taking money from you.”

  “Will you take a job? Build me a vacation property. A ten-thousand square foot house on Emerald Lake. I own a few acres out there. Will that work?”

  Jesse was still scowling, but after a few seconds he gave a short nod.

  Shane stepped back. “Great. My lawyer will send all the orders through.”

  “Why do you want to build there?”

  “I love that lake. And I hope someday, if I have kids of my own, the cousins can go there in the summers.”

  Jesse looked struck. “You’d come back here?”

  “Yeah. If we can put the past behind us. And if I can avoid Mandy.” The two men exchanged a look of understanding.

  Shane extended his hand across the desk and Jesse begrudgingly shook it.

  When he walked out into the sunlight he was grinning ear to ear.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The black town car drove them back from the airport and pulled up to the curb in front of her house.

  Amy grabbed for the door handle.

  Shane had been contemplative on the flight home—probably because they’d had a male flight attendant. Something had shifted during the trip, and Shane had been noticeably more demonstrative—holding her hand, nuzzling her neck. She’d put up the armrest and slept on him most of the way home. But hovering over them was that fight, and the ride from the airport had been nearly silent.

  She was happy to be home and get some space, get her head together—she needed to start adapting to her life without Shane. She’d be leaving in a few weeks and had to learn some changes to the Enchanted program at practice tomorrow.

  The driver opened the curb-side door and deposited Amy’s bags on the sidewalk before he helped her out.

  Shane followed. “I still don’t see why you can’t come home with me tonight.”

  “I need to get some sleep and get prepared for practice tomorrow. There’s only two more weeks until we go on the road.”

  “Can you give us a minute?” he said to the driver.

  “No problem.” The man got back in the vehicle.

  Amy wrapped her arms around Shane’s waist and leaned back. His expression was stony as he stared down at her.

  “When do you move out?” he said.

  “Kyle, Allyson, and I will be on the road by mid-September. We’ll be putting our stuff in storage a day or two before we go,” she replied.

  “Will you move in to my place?”

  “That’s sweet, but it’s only a few boxes and I’m sharing a storage unit with—”

  “No. Will you move in with me? Now, today. I want you with me.”

  Amy’s heart thundered in her ears. “Shane?” she said softly. “I’m leaving in sixteen days. I’ll be on the road until May, with only a few breaks. I won’t be living anywhere but hotels for the next eight months or so.”

  His gaze became searing, searching, trying to communicate something he obviously felt deeply.

  She cocked her head. This was completely off the wall. After their fight in Tennessee and his “I don’t do long-term” speeches when she’d first met him, she’d been erecting scaffolding around her heart for the inevitable breakup. And her heart needed the scaffolding, especially after what happened in Tennessee.

  Amy pulled his arms away and took a step back. “I won’t do the long-distance thing. I can’t.” Even if she did, she didn’t think she could do it with him. “Wait. Are you asking me not to go on the road?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask or expect it. It’s what you do. I may be on the road this year too if this role comes through.”

  “Then let’s enjoy this while it lasts, okay?” She pulled his head to hers for a peck. But the peck turned into a slow stroking, and mingling breath. Amy pressed her body into his and felt the swell of his erection along her abdomen. “Shane,” she murmured against his lips.

  He put her away from him and knocked on the window of the car. The driver got out.

  “Get my bag, would you please?” Shane exchanged the bag for a few bills. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.” The man got back into the car and drove away.

  He picked up her bag and stood smiling down at her. “Lead on.”

  “You want to stay here?” she studied him uncertainly.

  “Yep.”

  No one was home when they walked into the stuffy house she shared. She led the way to her bedroom and opened her window.

  Shane deposited her bag on the floor.

  He took her in his arms, and, sweeping her up, deposited her in the center of her
bed. He joined her, capturing her lips, his tongue sweeping over her lower lip.

  “You feel so good,” she murmured, her hands stroking his body shoulder to thigh, lingering to yank his hips hard against her arousal.

  She opened for him, her tongue darting out to lick into his mouth. The hand gripping her waist tightened with near bruising force while the other slid up her thigh, slowly, teasing. The weight of him was delicious and she arched and moaned beneath him. And suddenly she was desperate, pulling at the hem of his shirt until he levered himself up with one hand and yanked the shirt off with the other. Amy shrugged out of the top of her dress, while Shane moved to the edge of the bed to shuck his pants and underwear and pull out a condom. Finally naked, he crawled over to where she knelt on the center of the bed, nude and shivering despite the warmth of the room. He stroked one shaking hand down the front of her body—stopping to cup one breast in his hand, long fingers toying with first one pebbled tip, then the other. His eyes were heavy lidded with arousal. She met his gaze, biting her lip to hold back a moan.

  Never breaking eye contact, he ran the wide palm of his hand down over her stomach, as her muscles there twitched and fluttered. He slipped his hand over her and lightly flicked at her clit. She gave herself up to his hand as he teased, sliding one finger into her; her body clenched around it and he drew in a sharp breath. Another finger joined the first as his thumb circled her clit. She was desperate to pull him on top of her—to cease the torment and join their bodies. But there was something here, watching him pleasure her, memorizing every harsh plane of his face.

  She wanted to kiss him, or close her eyes, anything to break the unbearable intimacy of this moment. Her body throbbed against his hand as his fingers continued to pulse into her body and he stroked her clit, waiting.

  It was both arousing and mortifying that he was watching her, that he would watch her to completion. Her eyes widened, never leaving his as she bucked into his hand, trembling, coming with a low cry, boneless, exhausted, and self-conscious.

  It was more than sex—it was unbearably intimate. Had she ever had an orgasm looking into her lover’s eyes?

  Shane rolled down the condom, shoved her lethargic legs apart and entered her with a thrust that pushed her body deep into the soft mattress.