Page 3 of Obsessed with the Player

I didn’t like him.

The sandy shoulder-length hair that he now wore down with natural-looking highlights did nothing for me. Neither did the new stud in his left ear, nor the bulging biceps under his t-shirt or the impressively wide shoulders filling it.

His big hands set my coffee in front of me, and my eyes jumped to his, which was when I realized he’d caught me staring. I fought an infuriated blush, getting a sugar packet—because coffees were never sweet enough for me and I needed something to distract myself—but Andy stole it from my hand, ripping thepaper with elegant ease and dipping asmidgeof it into his coffee. Just because he could.

“I was about to use it,” I said stupidly.

“Then get another.”

We glared at each other from across the table.

Or, I glared athim, and he took it in with amusement, like he’d been looking forward to this for a long time.

I bet he even forgot I existed.

Or maybe he remembered me whenever he wanted to imagine himself annoying someone to give himself an ego boost.

I don’t care.

Bracing myself for what was to come, I took another sugar packet–I sure as hell wasnotgoing to take his–and stirred my coffee with one of those wooden sticks.

We drank our coffees in silence.

Was he not going to say anything? Did he expect me to interpret his invitation today as a blatant request for me to just come here and beg him for help?

After a long, tense minute, I was about to say something simply so I wouldn’t start sweating, or worse, fidgeting, but he finally decided to end my torture.

“So.” Andy put his coffee down and leaned onto his forearms. “It’s been a while since you last glared at me.”

“No doubt you missed it,” I said more to myself than anything.

Andy’s lips twitched, but he didn’t acknowledge it. “How’s life going for you?”

My stomach tightened. This was the humiliating part starting.

I gave him a dead look. “Outstandingly well, as I’m sure you know.” In fact, I knew he knew, because it was the way this had been organized to begin with.

Andy, my best friend Jonathan and I used to go to the same college, and we’d been in the same year. So had Andy’s best friend, Travis, who was dating my brother’s best friend, which made it so that it had been all too easy for Jonathan and Travis to concoct a plan together, which was why we were here in the first place.

My jaw shifted before I added, “You?”

Andy’s eyes almost twinkled with evil. “It’s been going great, not going to lie.” He leaned even closer toward me. “But not as good as right now.”

God, I hated him.

It’s just two months.

Gathering my determination again, I said, “While I would just love to be your punching bag for the day, I’m sure we both have shit to do, so why don’t we get to the point and do us both a favor?”

My sharp tone only seemed to amuse Andy, who added some distance between us again. “Right. Our business. Then why don't you go ahead and start telling me exactly why it is that you need my help?”

I exhaled sharply through my nostrils. I was going to do this. I could swallow my pride.

“I don't have a job or an apartment, and I've been told you have both for me, so would you, Andy, pretty,prettyplease, let me move in with you and give me a job so I don’t have to listen tomy brother and my best friend doing things I don’t want to know about through their apartment walls?”

Andy licked his bottom lip and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I love your fake enthusiasm, Dan, it’s certainly giving you points in my naughty book, but I’m afraid it’s not going to be enough.” He grinned like the cat that got the cream. “I have one condition.”

My jaw was so tight, I could have broken a boulder with it. “What is it.”

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