Players to Lovers (4 Book Collection)

by Ketley Allison

  “Two-night stand, if you count the last time.” Ash winks, trying to lighten the mood.

  “It was meant to be nothing more,” I forge on. “And save for the condom breaking, or not working, or whatever happened that night, now we’re here. And just like you, I didn’t expect to be in this position.”

  Ash sobers. “Sophie, you’ve taken this all in stride. Much better than I did.”

  “I wanted to have sex with you,” I say. “You were the hottest guy I’d ever seen. I finally wanted to feel what it was like.”

  Ash’s smile is bittersweet, but he somehow manages to make it cocky at the same time. “I hope I lived up to expectations.”

  “You’re not hearing what I’m saying.” Please don’t make me say it. “I wanted … I wanted to know what sex was like.”

  “Okay.” Ash lifts his water for a drink. He still isn’t getting it.

  “Ash, I was a virgin.”

  He chokes. Coughs up ice water as the glass slams against the countertop, and he doubles over.

  “Shit.” I scramble off the stool and race over, smacking his back like dislodging water from a person’s throat is a thing.

  “I’m—I’m fine,” he rasps.

  “I know CPR,” I say. “I know Heimlich, too, from my Children’s First Aid Class. But only on toddlers—though it can’t be much different, right? Turn around.”

  I make a fist, ready to ram it into his diaphragm.

  “Soph—it’s fine. I’m good.” He steps out of my hold, rubbing his throat and clearing out any residue. “I’m not dying.”

  I sigh in relief. I had visions of jumping on his back like a spider monkey, wrapping my arms around his torso, and administering the worst Heimlich anyone has ever seen. Being pregnant, who knows if I could’ve done it.

  “I’m fucking surprised, though. I thought … don’t punch me for this, but I thought you were casual about this stuff. Like, hooking up with guys.”

  I clamp my mouth shut, wishing I were on the other side of the island so I could pick up my water and hide my face in it.

  He turns. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “When would I have done that? When you first bought me a drink at the bar? Hey Ash, take me your place after this shot. I have a V-card you may want. You would’ve run away so hard and fast, your tattoos would’ve faded to nothing.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? Tell me, are you the kind of guy who looks for virgins?”

  He blurts without hesitation, “Fuck no.”

  “There you go. No guys are. Not the ones I’ve come across, anyway. I thought, by living as though I was experienced, by making everyone—even my best friend—believe I had this mysterious, alluring sex life, no one would look beyond it. I didn’t want people to know the real me or the reasons why I was still a virgin—because my brother fucked me up too much to want to experience college life the way I should. Because the ghosts I live with, the fourteen souls that are forever tethered to my family, haunt every step I take.” I choke. “Because I don’t deserve happiness after what he did.”

  “I am so sorry for your suffering. I am. You do not deserve to carry your brother’s sins on your shoulders, especially for all these years.” Ash comes closer, leaning his back on the counter and crossing his arms. “But this is something you should’ve led with. I’d never have…” He looks away.

  “Slept with me?” I’m strangely hurt, hearing something I’ve already concluded was true.

  His gaze comes back, those dark blue jewels seeing right through me. “I would’ve never treated you the way I did.”

  I fumble back a step. His intensity is disarming. “You treated me just fine.”

  “There’s a carefulness required. A sweetness. Time taken. With you, I did none of that. I threw you on that bed over there and had my way with you without thought. Without any idea how nervous you must’ve been. How scared. Shit, Soph, that makes me—I’m feeling pretty sick over here, thinking how callous I was with you.”

  I shake my head. “You weren’t. I … it was good. Really good. Like nothing I could’ve imagined—”

  “And that’s just it. You picked me. You chose me to be a forever memory, because let me tell you, you never forget your first. But you didn’t let me in on it. And that’s a big fucking deal.”

  “It’s my body,” I say defiantly.

  Ash bares his teeth. “You didn’t give me the option to treat you the way you deserved.”

  “Because I didn’t deserve it!” I’m shouting. “The days of a perfect, candlelit night were long gone! I’m twenty-four, Ash, and I was tired. Tired of being behind the scenes, of hiding, of pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Everyone assumed I was this experienced woman in all fields—business, travel, sex. No one questioned it since I used humor as my backdrop. No one gave a thought to what kind of past I had, because how could someone so happy and carefree have such a fucked-up history? And that night … when I saw you at the bar, getting drunk, looking hot, I took my chance. I thought, fuck it, screw my lies, to hell with my morals, I want him. I want you, Asher Whittaker, to be my first, whether or not you know it.”

  Ash’s voice rises with mine. “I should’ve known it, Sophie!”

  “Why are you so hurt? You’re the biggest player around! You sleep with multiple women a week!”

  “And I have an unspoken agreement with them. We fuck. That’s it. No feelings. No consequences.”

  He doesn’t mean to, but Ash’s gaze flickers to my stomach. His brows crunch down, and he spins away, rubbing his mouth.

  “I wanted that same agreement,” I say to his back. “I had no intention of telling you the truth after that night.”

  “Well, thanks for clueing me in.”

  “It’s a little late for anger,” I say. Even as I blurt it, I feel immature. “Considering what else we have to deal with.”

  “That’s right, Soph, excuse away your behavior. Really dig in on the fact that we have a baby now and your virginity should be the least of my problems.”

  “It is. If it weren’t for getting pregnant, you would’ve forgotten me months ago.”

  Ash’s laughter is hollow. “You think you have it all figured out. Ash fucked me and wanted to forget me.” Ash draws closer. I can feel his heat. Taste his breath. “What if I told you, after you snuck off that morning, I couldn’t get you out of my head? What if I kept dogging Carter and Locke for when you’d be back in New York? What if I snuck your number into my phone, and after a few whiskeys, looked at those digits, my thumb hanging over the send button after I wrote stupid, pathetic shit, like how I wanted to see you again? What about that, huh?”

  Any retort gets clogged in my throat.

  “That’s right, bombshell. You got under my skin.”

  My attention strays to his bare, stenciled chest. His exquisitely drawn arms. My lips move, but I can’t find the words as my gaze traces over his incredible ink.

  Ash has creatures crawling all over his body. Yet, I’m the only one who’s embedded myself underneath.

  At last, I meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because that’s not who I am. It made me uncomfortable, how easily you affected me. It’s something I had to think about, because I’ve never once wanted to see a girl a second time. And suddenly, I wanted to see you every day. I hated how far away you were.”

  It hurts to draw in breath. There’s a crushing feeling under my rib cage, a heavy ache. Something like regret. “I wish you would’ve.”

  Ash levels me with a look. “Then I guess we’re both wishful thinkers.”

  I fold my arms, needing a type of warmth unavailable from the environment around me. I glance around one more time, at the place I lost my virginity, lived without Ash, adjusted to my changing body. Certain this will be the last time I see it.

  “Goodbye, Ash.”

  He steps back, giving me space. “Bye, Soph.”

  My footsteps are hollow as I make my way to the
door, and I don’t glance back when I open it. I know what I’ll see.

  A gorgeous, pained man who’s crafted his body with perfect precision. The estranged father of my child.

  The man I don’t hate, but can’t love, either.

  And I leave with the knowing ache that had we both acted differently, this moment could’ve concluded with a happy ending.

  24

  Ash

  1.5 Months Later

  Lily’s munching on another crayon.

  I call over my shoulder, “Can she eat these things?”

  There’s no answer, so I inspect the box for the ingredients, notice the NON-TOXIC banner, and shrug. “Hope it’s tasty, shortcake.”

  “God, girl shit is heavy,” Locke says as he lugs an overloaded suitcase from his bedroom.

  I jump up from the couch and lift a leg over Lily, who’s “coloring” on some paper on the ottoman. “Dude, I said I got that. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “If anyone else gives me the bullshit you’re too fragile line,” Locke says, “I’m going to kick them in the balls.”

  I grip the handle of the suitcase. “Exactly the move a fragile person would choose.”

  “Fuck you. Lily, no!” Locke scrambles to get to his daughter, who’s mouth is now the color of a Smurf’s.

  “She’s determined to eat the rainbow.” I prop the luggage near the front door. “You got any Skittles instead?”

  “Carter hoards those,” Locke says, while prying another crayon from Lily’s grip.

  “No! Mine!” she says.

  “Only if you color with it, sputnik. If I see you put it in your mouth one more time, I’m taking them away for good.”

  “Nooooooo.”

  “I mean it.”

  I pause at the front door, surprisingly moved by seeing my buddy act like a stern father. Mostly because I know as soon as Carter’s gone, he’ll cave and give Lily anything she wants.

  “Thanks for that,” Carter says to me, nodding to the suitcase as she walks in from the bedroom. “I told Locke to wait for you, which meant, of course he didn’t.”

  “No worries.” I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “You ready?”

  Carter needed a ride to the airport, and while she specifically didn’t ask me, I offered. The two have been strapped for cash, with Carter’s painting bringing in some funds, but not on a regular basis, and Locke’s high school football coaching salary being less than ideal. They invested what they had in my restaurant, gaining equity, and I pay them quarterly, but they’re using that profit for Lily’s college fund. Until Locke’s trust from his late mother kicks in when he’s thirty, they’re living within their means—which is not much.

  They’re so responsible, it’s gross.

  And they’re a truckload happier than I could ever be.

  I don’t dwell on their kiss goodbye, or the way Locke holds his girlfriend and sneaks in a squeeze of her ass. Carter laughs, smacks his hand away, then bends down and bear-hugs her little girl, uncaring of any blue dye that gets on her toffee-colored blouse.

  I don’t linger on the way the three of them fit together, or how Locke can’t seem to let Carter go.

  “We’re gonna be late,” I say, feeling like a Grinch.

  “Okay.” After one last kiss and a heartfelt look at her family, Carter comes over. “Is Astor there already?”

  I nod. “She’s been blowing up my phone for ten minutes wanting to know if I’m actually going to follow through on my promise.”

  Carter laughs. “Sounds right. Let’s go. Bye, guys!”

  Locke hefts Lily to his chest, and they both wave as we leave, Locke ensuring Lily’s distracted by another crayon before she realizes her mother’s gone.

  Knew that bastard wouldn’t last.

  “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Carter says as we descend the stairs from her second-floor walk-up.

  “I wanted to. Jesus, what do you have in this thing?” Her suitcase makes an audible bang every time the wheels hit the stairs.

  “Options. Presents. Shoes.”

  “Anything practical?”

  “Like a toothbrush? Sure.”

  I roll my eyes as we head to my McLaren a few parking spots over.

  “Whew, I thought you would’ve brought your bike,” Carter says behind me.

  “What is with your little faith?”

  “Well … because of where I’m going.”

  I press the key fob, popping the trunk. “As I’ve told you, and Astor, and everybody fucking else, Sophie and I are good. Amicable.”

  “If amicable means, don’t talk to each other at all.”

  “Your sass is duly noted.”

  “She’s doing great, by the way,” Carter says as she opens the passenger door and slides in.

  I throw her shit in the trunk, my car literally sagging from the weight, and slam the trunk shut.

  “Thirty-six weeks,” Carter continues when I drop into the driver’s seat.

  I rev the engine, letting the intimidating rumble drown out anything else Carter wants to add.

  We drive in silence to the airport, Carter tapping absently on her thigh and taking the hint that after almost eight months, she’s not going to salvage anything between Sophie and me. But hey, I’m glad she doesn’t hate me as much. Progress.

  Yet, Carter has gotten to me, and I hate to admit it. “So, Cantaloupe’s doing good?”

  “It’s Papaya now. And yes, both mom and baby are healthy.”

  My attention strays from the road for a brief second. “She’s not—?”

  “No.” Carter chuckles. “That’s not the name. She’s keeping that a secret.”

  “It’s nice,” I say, tapping my finger against the wheel, “What you and Astor are doing.”

  “Sophie deserves a baby shower,” Carter says. “And it’s also nice of you to drive me to the airport.”

  “More luxurious than an Uber, am I right?”

  Now Carter rolls her eyes. “Men and their things.”

  “Uh, excuse me, but what did I just throw in my trunk?”

  We banter for a few minutes more. I had no idea how much I missed this, the camaraderie between not just my friends, but their girlfriends. Sophie’s and my one-night stand brought a whole lot of unexpected change, and the only thing that’s straightened the path, is time.

  “This is taking a lot longer than I thought to get to JFK,” Carter says.

  “Mm.”

  Her head whips toward me. “Ash, what have you done?”

  “Nothing,” I say, turning the wheel innocently as I make a left turn.

  “Where are we?” Carter’s straining against her seatbelt.

  “White Plains.”

  “That’s not Queens.”

  “Sure isn’t.”

  Carter bangs her hand on her window. “This is a fucking private airport.”

  “Don’t swear. It’s a nasty habit in front of children.”

  “You curse daily in front of my child.”

  “I’m a changed man.”

  “You are a child.”

  “Then don’t curse in front of me.”

  “Ugh!” Carter slams her back against the seat crossing her arms. “I hate you. But I also love you for this.”

  I smile, while keeping my eyes on the road. “I know.”

  We pull up to my family’s plane, where I know Astor is comfortably seated after blowing up my phone when she also realized I’d chartered private transport for them to get to Sophie.

  Any chance I get to use my parents’ shit, I do. If it were up to me, I’d squander away their funds, but Dad recognizes an enemy when he sees one. Mom is the one who allows her only child whatever he wants. And with the utter crap they’ve piled on top of their only living legacy, I take without thought.

  Carter pauses after opening her door. “Ash. Thank you. I mean it.”

  I shrug it off. “Just, uh, tell her I’m glad she’s doing well.”

  Carter gives me a knowing look
, one I don’t like. “I will.”

  “One last thing.” I dig into my back pocket and pull out a piece of folded paper. “This is for her.”

  “A baby shower present?”

  “I guess.”

  Carter opens it. Reads. Her eyes go wide. “Ash…”

  “I know you and I haven’t gotten along lately, but I’m trying to do what’s right. Within my boundaries.”

  She nods. “I don’t know if she’ll accept this.”

  The check is snapped out of Carter’s hands. Astor has somehow appeared without notice and stands by the door. “I’ll make sure she accepts this.”

  Sighing, I say, “Hey, Astor.”

  Astor bends down so I can see her. “Hey yourself. Thank you for the ride.”

  “Special circumstances. Don’t be telling Ben I rent out planes for free.”

  Astor smiles. “Then I guess I’ll cancel the Vegas trip I just asked your pilot to take us on next weekend.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “See you later, Ash,” Carter says as she steps out. Her suitcase has already been retrieved by the chartered staff.

  “Bye, ladies.”

  I drive off without looking back, feeling a sudden need to speed away before I make a stupid decision.

  I want to get on that plane.

  25

  Sophie

  I stand in the middle of my brand-new, bona fide nursery room.

  My stomach fills half the space, but I curve my arms around it, comforted by the kicks and rolls of its occupant, and do a spin of my own.

  With the help of Pinterest and the opinions of Carter and Astor, I chose a pale cream for the walls and decided on colorful accents everywhere else.

  The cushioned rocking chair, where I’ll be soothing a baby late at night and fumbling with feedings, is in the far corner, directly across from the white crib (a Carter inheritance). I went with a safari theme and splurged on an adorable stuffed elephant and giraffe crib sheets. A small potted plant is in another corner, bright green and leafy, and as unclear as I am on how long it will survive.

  Lastly, a small throw rug is laid over the hardwood, just outside of the crib, with playful monkeys, giraffes, elephants and alligators mingling in a way they never would in the wild.