Page 34 of Play Your Part

“You send me your list, and I’ll send you mine.” He held his phone out to me. “Add your number, and I’ll text you later.”

His agreement felt too easy, but then again, I found something we both wanted—a way to manufacture a relationship without actually having one.

“Wouldn’t actual dating be easier if everyone did this?” I typed my number into his phone. It was freeing not to worry about what Alexei thought of me. I could say whatever I wanted, without it becoming something that signified more about the relationship.

Alexei took the phone back from me, his fingers brushing mine, leaving an inconvenient tingle in the wake of his touch. He smiled, a lopsided half grin. “I couldn’t agree more.”

If only I could outline allowable emotions for my body to feel. I needed to stop the zap to the pit of my stomach every time our eye contact held too long or we touched or he flashed me a two-dimple smile. Every moment of it felt devastating; this strong physical reaction to someone wasn’t something I’d experienced since my earliest crushes years ago. I found plenty of guys hot, and I felt hot for plenty of guys, but nothing immediate like this. No feelings over simple glances and brushes of skin. What a waste to feel something so rare for someone I couldn’t wait to push out of my life.

“I think we should end on this positive note before one of us says something to screw it up,” I said.

Alexei chuckled. “Good call.” He opened the door, placing one foot outside of the car, then paused before sticking a hand out to me. Clearly, he had no reaction to our contact like I did. “Nice doing business with you.”

I huffed a laugh, taking his hand and releasing it as quickly as possible. “Likewise, you dork.”

His smile grew genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He looked like he might say something more, but then he turned away from me, ducking his head as he exited the car. He tapped once on the roof giving me the all-clear to drive away, something I did without a second glance at him. Part of me loved the idea of navigating our conversations away from fraught topics. I wouldn’t have to entertain questions about hockey or Justin or anything that seemed innocuous to him but carried too much weight for me.

But there was another part of me… the part thatfelttoo much in his presence, that needed us to butt heads and talk about the topics he wanted to avoid, to see all of his warts and blemishes. I needed our arguments and silences to keep that small part from growing into something I couldn’t contain. He had a reputation for a reason. The more I knew him, the more my opinion of him would cement and stop my basic human instincts from running wild.

I hoped.

The next night, Gemma came to my room to see if I wanted to go out to dinner with her. She nestled into my bed and beneath my covers. There was no way either of us was getting dressed to leave the house, despite Gemma’s best intentions.

“Matt’s not home?” I asked.

“No, he’s at Volk’s. They have a whole postgame ritual.”

I muscled my way to a proper sitting position. “Oh, do tell.”

Gemma waved a hand. “It’s not a big deal. They sit in the hot tub and order pizza. They claim it helps with recovery.”

I laughed. “Pizza helps with recovery?”

“How would I know?” she asked. “Do you know what I like most about hockey, Kennedy? It’s after someone scores, and the men all hug each other. Besides that, I’ve got nothing.”

I leaned into her and sank back into the bed. “I like that too, you know.”

“Volk is under the impression you hate hockey.”

I looked up to find her gaze on me, but I struggled to read the expression on her face. “I grew out of it. Besides, I like annoying him.”

“You have an interesting way of annoying him,” Gemma said as she ran her fingers through a section of my hair, smoothing it behind my ear. “Idon’t often sit in the laps of my enemies.”

My face flushed at the memory I wished Matt and Gemma would forget. Alexei and I agreed to pretend it never happened; it seemed rude it wasn’t automatically plucked from the minds of others. “I was proving a point to him.”

“That he wants to have sex with you?” Gemma asked, her voice shaking with laughter. “Because—”

I pushed away from her. “No—”

I tried to interrupt but Gemma kept talking, fighting to get the words out through her laughter.

“I thought you already established that when he tried to make a bet with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was a joke.”

“If that’s also how you describe his reaction to you the other night, I’d keep it to yourself.” Gemma rose from the bed, then flicked her hair out of her face. “I’ve found men can be very self-conscious when it comes to their penises.”

“Gemma!” I shouted, bringing my hands up to cover my face.

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