Page 2 of Obsessed with the Player

Because he washelpingme.

And because he would solve at least two-thirds of my life problems in one swift stroke.

People walked past me as I stared into the windows trying to find a familiar blond head in there.

Now or never.

I crossed the street.

***

Upon opening the door, the bright afternoon chatter and the smell of coffee hit me like a wave all at once. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd, searching for a specific familiar face, and all too quickly, like pulled to it by a magnet, I foundhim.

My heart stuttered.

Andy.

Sitting at a round table that looked made of fake marble which looked tiny next to him, the guy whose guts I’d hated on sight waited for me, watching me, a wicked grin stretching his lips. My stomach tightened with the impact of his intense gaze,his twinkling blue eyes, but steeling myself, I made my way to him.

His eyes tracked my movements like he was some sort of animal predator and I was the prey he’d been waiting for all day.

He’s not going to intimidate me.

I stopped beside him.

Looking up at me, completely unbothered by the height difference our positions caused, he said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Dan James himself.” He gave me a shameless once over, which made my skin tingle everywhere, and I tried to stop myself from doing the same before his eyes met mine again. “Still alive and kicking.”

“Can I sit?”

Andy raised an eyebrow at me, because, why the fuck would I ask if I could sit?Hehad been the one that made me come here in the first place, and never in my life had I asked Andy for permission to do anything.

I blamed it on the adrenaline coursing through my veins, the instinct torun, and the impact of seeing an older and even more buff Andy after all this time.

“Why,of course.” Andy gestured at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

With a tight jaw and cursing myself for getting myself in this shitshow to begin with, I lowered myself onto the iron chair, and before I knew it, Andy had pulled it sharply into the table with his legs, almost trapping me against it, like he wanted to let me know he wasn’t letting me go anywhere.

The hairs at the back of my neck rose, and my heart raced like a rabbit behind my ribs.

This was going to be a disaster.

I glared at him.

“I’m not going to be intimidated by your macho bullshit, so if you’re expecting me to, you can go take a hike.”

Andy’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Thatis the stuck-up Dan I know.” He got up. “Tell me what you want, and don’t think about leaving.”

I bristled, because I had definitely been considering how bad I would look if I did just that, and now I just couldn’t because it would give him the win.

Asshole.

I gave him my coffee order.

He left to get our drinks at the counter and before long, he was settling his big body in front of me, coffee in hand, in a way that should have been a lot less graceful than it was.

Our two years of separation hadn’t hurt Andy at all. In fact, I was pretty sure he looked even hotter than the last time I’d seen him.

Objectively speaking of course.

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