Page 14 of Imperfect Player

I wait for a response, hoping to high hell that I didn’t just screw up whatever this is.

Ethan: Obviously I need to work on my game.

Me: I thought you said I deserved better than you.

I hit send and instantly regret my text, the recital of words that he said to me. In my head it sounded cute and flirty. Looking down at the words now, I look like a bitch.

Ethan: It’s true. But…

Me: But?

Ethan: You’re not an easy woman to forget.

My smile grows larger as my stomach fills with butterflies.

Not an easy woman to forget?

Quite the compliment for a woman whose boyfriend did just that—forgot all about her and landed dick-first into someone else.

Ethan: Enjoy your evening with your friend.

I can’t help but wish I had lied, told him I was at home watching television or something. Anything to keep the conversation going and feel like he’s nearby.

It’s a nice feeling. Nice to feel wanted, desired—hell, even liked.

By the end with Kai, I wasn’t even sure he had ever liked me, let alone loved me. It all felt a little disingenuous. Phony. We were just a lie. I’d been nothing more than a placeholder until he found what, or in this case who, he really wanted.

“What in the hell just happened?”

I ask the question to no one in particular. The fact that Chelle answers so quickly, though, doesn’t surprise me.

“That,” she replies, “is a man on the hook.”

She does a giddy little dance in her chair as I try to wrap my head around the fact that Ethan Ambrose just texted me.

And worse, how I can’t do anything about it.

Chapter 4

Ethan

Texting Everly last night wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made. After I told myself that she was off limits, I should have left well enough alone.

Instead, I’d headed over to Advantage Player. Partially in hopes of running into Everly, but as my backup plan, obtaining whatever information about her that I could. Including her phone number.

Everly hadn’t been there, which meant that I settled for acquiring her phone number. But why? What would I use it for? To call her? Unlikely. Text? Seemed a little stalkerish.

Okay, the whole me trying to hunt her down thing was a little stalkerish. A little.

Tripp’s assistant was an easy target. Young. Star struck. Beyond willing to help.

I made up a quick story on the fly about a business conversation that Everly and I never finished at the party the other night. The vast importance of the conversation. How angry Tripp would be if Everly and I didn’t finish what we started.

Truth be told, Tripp would have probably been much happier if Everly and I never started what we had. He sure as hell wouldn’t give a damn if we finished it or not.

I do though.

I care.

---