Page 88 of The Player's Obsession

“I can’t do that.”

“I’ll be in and out until the game. If we win, the season continues, and I’ll be home more if we lose. Let’s wait until then to decide our next move.”

“I don’t intend to stay that long. This is all temporary.”

“With me in the picture, your brother isn’t going away. That’s a fact.” He places my laptop bag on the counter, the same counter where he sat and dangled car keys in front of me only days ago.

“You’re probably right, but you have a life.” Why am I trying to talk him out of helping me when the truth is, I want a relationship with him?

“We’re in this together for a month, so don’t worry about it. Besides, my parents want to meet you, and we have things planned. As an engaged couple, it would look weird if we weren’t living together.”

“Mm, about that. What if your parents find out we lied to them? They’ll hate me.”

“We can worry about that later. Right now, this arrangement is keeping you safe. I want you to be careful and be aware of your surroundings. Let me know where you are at all times, so I don’t worry. Freddy might manipulate Carlo. I don’t trust either of them.”

“I’ve got the same bad feeling. It never occurred to me that Carlo was lying about his parole, and he’s actually here illegally. Now I know he’s a pathological liar. I don’t want to be the one to send him back to jail, but if this keeps up, I might not have a choice.” My voice trails off in resignation. Carlo is putting me in a difficult position, and at some point, I’m going to break down if I don’t free myself from him and the past.

“I have a question for you,” Oliver says, stepping in front of me and putting his hands on my shoulders.

“What’s that?”

“Are we together, as in a thing, or are we still faking it? Because if you’re faking it, you win the Academy Award.”

I look up, and the background fades away. All I see is Oliver asking about us. It’s sweet, but Melanie is floating out there and might come back. Can I risk it? Does Oliver know what he wants?

It’s as if the stars are aligned and if I don’t give this a shot, I’ll never get another opportunity. I don’t believe in second chances. I’ve been kicked to the curb so many times I feel like a crash test dummy.

I want the dreamy bed in his room and a warm body to hold me during winter.

“Wow, that question sure left you speechless,” he says, his eyes searching mine for an answer.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m still processing all this.”

He steps forward and pulls me into his strong arms.

“Of course, you are. You’re used to black and white, plus and minus, and here I am asking you about your emotions. Your head must be spinning like a slot machine. Let’s hope it lands on the jackpot,” he says and bends to kiss me.

My knees grow weak, and my ovaries are bursting. I swear they know there is a man within close proximity. My panties are damp. My body tingles with excitement and every cell yearns for him.

“I think we can share a room, and showering together conserves water,” I reply.

“Mm, does it?”

“We can test the theory,” I snicker.

“No need. I plan to take you in the shower, the bed, and the countertop. I want you, Penelope.”

The man means business. It’s evident as his cock stiffens against my belly. He mentions his living room carpet is the closest flat surface and hasn’t been christened yet.

An hour later, the carpet is christened, and we are starving.

Every time I get up to grab my phone and order dinner, Oliver pulls me back and showers me with kisses.

“We can’t live on love, honey,” I say between giggles as he nuzzles my neck.

“We can try.”

“And you’ll be too weak to catch a football. I can’t live with the guilt. We need food.”

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