Page 29 of Force Play

“I was going to say flattery. Although I’m definitely not opposed to the other ‘F’ word when it comes to you. Someday I’ll convince you I’m not the villain you think I am.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond, changing the topic instead. “You and Bri seem happy. Is she moving out here?” An air of mischief dances around him as he studies me.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. She’s in school for another year and a half in Chicago.”

“Hmmm . . . long-distance is hard,” he muses.

I was prepared to fend off an advance or sarcastic remark—maybe an offer to warm my bed in her absence. Not thoughtfulness and so much genuine understanding. It takes me a second to recover.

“Um . . . yeah. We’re working it out. Day by day,” Bri says, saving me when she slips in the space between us. I’d been so wrapped up in fending off Dom that I hadn’t even seen her there.

Her arm comes around my waist, outwardly making it seem like everything is fine, but I don’t like the way she says it like she’s uncertain if it’ll work. I’ve had my doubts, but I thought she was pulling for us. What are we doing if neither of us is fully invested in making this work long-distance?

“We haven’t officially met yet. I’m Dom.”

Sticking his hand out, Brianna takes it, her hand fully encased by his larger one. “Oh, I know who you are.” She looks him up and down with a laugh.

“Excellent.” He tilts his head to the side, looking around Bri to find me, his hand coming to his heart. It’s truly unfair that he can look wholesome as fuck and devilishly handsome at the same time. This is why the man gets whatever he wants. “See, Firecracker, this is the kind of ‘f’ word I was talking about—flattery.”

“You’re assuming that’s a good thing.” Warm laughter floats out of Bri. She’s completely unbothered by this, while I feel like a tennis ball being whacked back and forth. “Indie wasn’t lying. You are a handful.”

“Well, that seems kind of personal to share. But I’m glad you think so.”

“Oh my god.” I let my head fall forward, pressing against my arms on the table. “Please stop. Why are you even still here? Don’t you have an unsuspecting woman to pick up?”

“Nope. I’ve given up the hoe life.”

“This is really entertaining. I’m glad I came.” Lifting my head I glare at her. “Obviously. I mean because you’re here. But he’s just so . . .” Bri pauses, tapping her finger to her chin.

“Not. Helping,” I bite out, no longer hiding my annoyance as they continue chattering, while I sip my drink, looking on. Outwardly, everything looks fine. Brianna’s physically attentive, but she’s spent more time talking to everyone around the tables than she has to me. The past two weeks apart feel like they’ve created a rift between us. Everything just feels too friendly. That passion I felt for her before the move is fading.

An hour later, I’m dragging Brianna towards the door to wait outside for our Uber home. All of the other couples left about fifteen minutes ago, leaving Dom and a few of the new guys—Braxton and Montana, I think—to themselves. My mind was distracted with trying to come up with an excuse to leave and then feeling guilty because Brianna was clearly still enjoying herself. Maybe I’m a shit girlfriend to fault her for enjoying herself. I just thought that after two weeks apart she’d want to—I don’t know—duck out early and spend time together. Honestly, it’s an exhausting cycle.

“You seem frustrated,” she says when we step out into the dark night.

“I’m trying really hard not to be,” I admit, checking my phone again to see where the driver is. Great, he’s now seven minutes away instead of five. Closing out the screen, I look back to where Brianna is leaning against the brick wall, looking far more collected than I feel.

“These are your friends, right?” she asks, looking down at her fingernails.

“Yes,” I say.

“Why are you so bothered by me making an effort with them? Shouldn’t you want me to get along with them?”

My head pounds and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course I do. This is just harder than I thought—managing long-distance with our schedules. When you said you were coming out here, I’d hoped we would have more time just the two of us. I’d hoped it would be like it was before I left.”

“You’re right, things have changed, and it’s different than I thought it would be. I like you a lot, and I wish things were different, but between school and work, this is all I can give you.”

“I’m not asking for more.”

“What are you asking for?” She pushes off the wall, coming to stand in front of me.

I glance down at my phone. Six more minutes. “I don’t know.”

“It seems like that might be part of the problem. We barely got started and neither of us have prioritized this. You’re about to take on a whole new career, and we aren’t in a place to travel back and forth. It’s okay if this doesn’t work.”

And that’s the soul of it. We aren’t willing to fight for this, and that tells me everything I need to know about what’s next for us. For the first time since we left the stadium, my shoulder inches away from my ears, partially relieved that she’s making this decision for the both of us. “I wanted it to work.”

She shrugs. “You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better.”

“What if I’m saying it so I feel better?”

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