Page 9 of Obsessed with the Player

Now it was my time to grin.

Maybe this wouldn't be that bad after all.

***

The night went by fairly quickly, probably thanks to the fact that I was trying to take in so much information about the group. They seemed to be regulars of this place, just the way that Andy was, so it had to be his group of party buddies. They all seemedto be staring like hawks between Andy and I, probably noticing the tension between us, but I paid it no mind.

Instead, I made sure to introduce myself to everyone and sent looks to my shitty potential professor as I showed him that as much as I might have been the type of guy who went to bed early and the opposite of a party animal, I was actually capable of socializing.

More than a few of his friends kept giving me flirty stares, men and women alike grinning at me like they were imagining what I looked like without my clothes on. It was a strange sensation, one that I wasn't used to, since I had never actually gone out without having a girlfriend, and the attention felt new, making my skin tingle under their scrutiny.

After a long while, when I finally finished my first drink–I had no intention of getting drunk tonight, not when Andy was lurking nearby with watchful eyes and evil ideas– the player himself came with me to the bar at my not-so-subtle request when I dragged him by his arm.

I pinned him with my gaze. “I thought you were meant to test me?”

“And I thought I was the one in charge here, which means, I don’t take orders from you, and I’ll do what I want at my leisure.” He rested his forearm at the bar without looking at me.

My hands balled into fists.“You could at least try to teach me something.”

“What is there to teach? You seem to be doing well enough on your own.” He now turned around and pinned his eyes on me, narrowing them.“I never knew you were a charmer,” he said, throwing it at me like an accusation.

My stomach squirmed. Was that bitterness in his tone?

I shrugged. “I never said I wasn’t social. I said I didn’t know how to be single.”

“And you still won’t tell me why that’s suddenly so important.”

Now my stomach turned into knots. “I don’t know what there is to tell. I haven’t been single in a long time and am out of practice. Shouldn’t be that difficult to accept.”

“Right, it shouldn’t be, but it’syouwe’re talking about and it’smeyou’re asking, something I’d never have imagined you doing in a thousand years, which means there must be some very good reason in that pretty head of yours to justify it.”

Pretty. My heart thumped against my ribs, my skin way too aware of how close Andy and I were right now, the buzz of the people around us almost fading as the whole of my attention centered more and more on him.

I’d never been called pretty in my life, and never even expected anyone to do it. Maybe it was a throwaway word, but with the pointed way he was looking at me right now, I didn’t think it was. Why I would hyper-focus onthatparticular bit of information, I didn’t know, and in fact, I shouldn’t.

Because even if I wasn’t supposed to be a charmer, Andy very much was. All night, I had been overly aware of every single one of his movements, waiting for a barb, a pointed comment, or for his damn test to start, and all night I’d seen several people watching him like they were getting ready to strike, shoot their shot. Several had in fact tried to make a move on him, but he’d brushed them easily off, like this was an everyday thing, which it probably was.

He could have anyone. Choose anyone. He was an unreachable shooting star to someone like me, firmly planted onthe ground, and I’d known this ever since the first time I laid my eyes on him.

Which was maybe part of why I’d hated him so much.

Which was something I didn’t want to look at too closely.

My nails dug into my palms.“My reasons are none of your business. We’re here because you wanted to push me through some stupid test of yours, but if you just want to admit defeat and keep us both from wasting our time, you just have to say it.”

Andy let out a dry chuckle, his hair almost glowing under the warm light here. “You think your cute boy routine counts as me losing?”

I bristled.

Cute boy routine?

It doesn’t mean anything.

“It's not a routine and itisyou losing, no need to be bitter about it.”

And Andywasbitter. For the first time in my life I was seeing him as anything other than one-hundred-percent confident and irritatingly amused, and the delight at this discovery sent a shot of adrenaline through my veins, making me feel bolder and more daring.

Ready to take on any challenge he might suggest.

---