Page 5 of The Problem with Players

Now I was back to hating all men again.

Especially the one holding my champagne.

I snatched the bottles from his hold as I stared at him with piercing hostility. “Don’t talk to me,” I ordered with sharp disdain. I didn’t say another word as I walked out of the liquor store and stomped my feet all the way back home.

Leave it to Nathan to ruin a perfectly happy touchdown moment with his mere existence.

“Okay, I get it,”Wesley said as he twirled some dice between his fingers after his friends left for the evening. “You’re upset.”

“Am I?” I huffed as I took the emptied bottles of champagne to the recycling bin. I hated when he did that—when he told me what I’d been. If I was upset, I wanted to come to that realization on my own. I didn’t need Wesley to tell me I was upset. That only annoyed me more.

After returning from the liquor store, I had to put on a brave smile and function as if I wasn’t bothered so Wesley’s friends wouldn’t think I was some raging drama queen. Even though I was, indeed a raging drama queen. I started noting every little comment Drew made toward Wesley, and I counted every time she found a way to touch my fiancé.

Forty-seven times.

She touched him forty-seven freaking times!

“You are, and that’s completely understandable,” Wesley said as he followed me to the kitchen with the almost-empty charcuterie board. “I should’ve told you about Drew.”

“You mean you should’ve mentioned that your best friend was a woman and that you two used to date each other? You should’ve mentioned that your ex-girlfriend was coming to ourplace instead of having me find that information out during a game of charades? Yes. Yes, you should’ve. You’ve never even mentioned dating anyone before me.”

“That’s because no one mattered before you.”

“Nice try, smooth talker. How long did you two date?”

“Not long.” He tossed his hands in the air in surrender. “It was really short.”

“How short is short?”

“Like three, four years.”

“Four years?!” I gasped, stunned by the news I was discovering.

He’s so ugly!

“I know that sounds bad, but honestly, Avery, it was so long ago. We were in a college relationship. It is ancient history.”

“It didn’t seem really ancient to her,” I muttered. “She’s in love with you.”

He laughed and shook his head. “She’s not in love with me.”

“She spent the whole game night talking about how wonderful you are and how you taught her everything she knows about thrust-to-weight ratio, which sounds highly inappropriate to me.”

“Oh no. That’s not some weird sex thing if that’s what you’re thinking. Thrust-to-weight ratio is what compares the thrust produced by an engine to the weight of the vehicle and?—”

I placed a hand on his forearm. “Wesley.”

“Yes?”

“I might not know rocket science, but I know women. She was talking about you thrusting your weight into her vehicle.”

He shook his head. “You’re overreacting.”

“Don’t say that. Otherwise, I will truly overreact, and you’ll end up sleeping on the couch. All I’m saying is it would’ve been nice to have a heads-up that you were bringing an ex to our house for game night. When the only game we should’ve been watching was the Super Bowl.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what this is all about? The fact that you missed your football game?”

“No, it’s not about missing the game even though rumor has it that it turned out to be one of the most exciting games in the history of football. It’s about the lack of communication. I was put into an uncomfortable situation, and I didn’t like that, Wesley. I don’t like being blindsided.”

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