Page 15 of Playing My Rivals

Matt pulls out a chair and sits. “Jamison, who was the smoke show Jerry and I met? She came by a while back?”

“When?” I run through the women who have stopped by my place.

It’s only been Lauren and Dori. My mind hooks onto the night Dori stopped by. She told me she ran into them and they told her where I lived. Panic rises in my chest.

Jerry sits and faces me. “It was a few weeks back. She was at the desk asking about you. I think her name was?—”

“Her name was Lauren.” I shift uncomfortably in my chair.

Matt leans forward. “I don’t think that's the name she told the front desk.”

“Check the front desk roster, then.” I bluff, hoping they don’t check it.

Hunter gives me a once-over. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not. She’s just a woman I know.” I peek over my shoulder, seeking an escape.

“Oh, I get what you mean. We all have those.” Hunter laughs.

He’s angry with Dori and has drunk himself way past his limit. His insinuation about Lauren being a hook-up has me thinking he still has a few of his own.

I nod and tuck it away for another day. I’ve already fucked up enough today, so I need to think about how I want to use this information in the future.

Matt and Jerry hang out for a little longer, then go to the bar. Hunter brings up his relationship with Dori again. I try to act like it’s normal guy talk, but he keeps going on about how he was planning to seduce her with a night of pampering.

It wouldn’t be that bad, except he’s giving me a play-by-play of what he was planning. By the time he’s done describing how he was going to start on the couch that overlooks the city and end it in the shower, I want to stab knives into my ears so I don’t have to listen anymore.

I’m spinning out of control with jealousy. Thinking of them together like that is enough to kill me.

Just my luck. Hunter notices me twisting in misery. “What’s wrong, Jamison? Is it something I said?”

CHAPTER 4

HUNTER

I pound my palm against Dorothy’s door. “Dorothy, it’s me, Hunter. Open the door.”

A moment later, the door swings open. She’s standing off to the side, ready for me to come in. I step inside, shut the door, and spin to face her.

“What are you doing here so early, Hunter? It’s Saturday. You know I take Saturdays to decompress.” She goes into the kitchen without making eye contact.

Her dismissive attitude sets me off. “You know damn well why I’m here. Try answering your phone next time and I won’t interrupt your Saturday.”

She shakes her head but says nothing. She goes about making a pot of coffee. I stare at her, stupefied.

This woman is going to be the death of me.

“So you have nothing to say?” I ask.

“Why would I say anything? You obviously came here to assert some kind of pissed-off dominance, so get it over with so I can go about my day and chill out.” She presses the brew button on her coffee maker.

I want to shake her silly. We had plans, and she’s the one who blew me off. How is this my fault?

My blood boils. “Pissed-off dominance? That’s why you think I’m here?”

“If you’re not here for that, why are you here?” She turns and grabs a bottle of water out of her fridge. “Would you like one?”

“Forget the water and look at me.” I step forward and push the refrigerator door closed.

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