Page 49 of Obsessed with the Player

“That’s not your problem, though, is it? Your problem is that you’re shit scared that he’s going to reject you, because you’re not used to caring, and now that it matters, you want to quit the fight before it has even started.” He huffed. “Good thing you didn’t end up trying to become a pro boxer.”

I glared at him. “Can we get back to the pep talk and leave out the insults?”

Travis stared at me easily. “A few years ago, when I was all torn up over Scott, you were the one that told me I would never know what would happen if I didn’t try, and the same applies here.” He slid out of the bar stool, getting ready to leave me to my crisis, before looking back at me. “Just ask yourself this: can you be the guy that will fight for him the way Dan deserves? Because if you can’t, you should just let him go.”

I should. I know I should. And yet the thought of letting go of Dan, of not being there for him, of not seeing him day after day, watching me from inside the office, walking out and staring at me as he talked to other people, as we played our little games, made me even more sick to my stomach.

I knew Dan deserved the world.

And I knew I wanted to give it to him. I wanted to give him everything, I wanted to see him smile and be sassy with me, and I wanted to make him melt with my touch, I wanted him to be vulnerable and safe and cherished the way he deserved.

But was I strong enough to give it to him?

Could I stand it if finally offering myself still wasn't enough?

You won't know until you try.

Travis's words, the ones that I told him years ago, followed me all the way home.

***

As soon as I opened the door to the apartment, I almost crashed into Dan, who was about to come out, and we both stared at each other, dumbfounded. Our positions had been very much the opposite only a few hours ago, and as the tension still lingered, thick between us, we just stood there, breathing each other's air, with my heart in my throat as I noticed the redness in Dan's eyes.

I hated it. I hated seeing it and I hated the thought that I was the reason that he was like this—that he thought I just saw him as a toy and nothing more.

“Day drinking?” he asked, visibly swallowing hard only a few inches away from me.

I closed the door behind me. I didn’t want to risk him running away again, even less when Dan looked more vulnerable than ever before. It took an inhuman amount of strength to keep myself from reaching out to him. “Did you come here to pack your bags?” I asked, because I just needed to know.

Dan’s eyes snapped to mine, nostrils flaring. “Why? Did you want me to?”

My throat constricted. “I just want to know where we stand.”

“And where do you think that is?”

“I don’t know, do I?” I asked feeling bitter all of a sudden. “You’re the one that left like the devil was on your heels.”

Dan looked away. “I guess you never signed up for a toy with a will of its own, right?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” I snapped, pressing closer to him and bracing my arms on each side of him. “What if I told you not to leave? If I wanted to keep you here.” I said, finally shooting my shot.

“Because you want your toy available?”

“Because I wantyou,” I said, wanting for him to see how he made me feel, how serious I was, how it felt like he had my heart in his hand. “I want you, not some sex toy fantasy. I only said it because I wanted to shield myself and cover up the fact that I felt too much for you when I never meant to.”

The confession, when it finally came out, felt like it was torn out of me, leaving me raw and vulnerable.

Dan shook his head, “I’m not this person, Andy.”

My stomach tightened. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means I'm not this outgoing, daring, impulsive, not-thinking-everything-a-thousand-times-before-actually-going-through-it Dan, it’s just an illusion. You said it yourself, didn’t you? This is just a farce and I’m just the same idiot you met, the stuck-up guy that couldn't even admit that he was into you because he knew you'd never look twice at him.”

My chest fluttered with miserable hope. “You were into me?”

“And you wanted my lips around your cock.” He gave me a dark look. “Don't even try to pretend that it wasn't just because I pissed you off with my denial.”

“You're wrong,” I said, stepping closer, wanting to extinguish all the distance between us. “You're so wrong, because while I was pissed that you hated me, it wasn't just a pride thing. My first actual thought was about how little your ex deserved you. That if I had had you, I wouldn't have ever even looked at anyone else, not for a minute, not for asecond, and I was bitter because Iknew that I would never get to prove it, because you would never actually look at me and see me.”

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