Page 12 of Imperfect Player

“Except a ride home. And a dance. And a drink. And laughter and fun and a million other things.”

“He wasn’t interested, Chelle. Besides, I’m happy with the way things went. Meeting Ethan reminded me of how good things can be with someone. Our conversation was easy and fun, not a struggle like it was with Kai. Ethan’s attention was solely on me, not his phone or any of the dozens of women in the place.”

“Not every man is an asshole like Kai. And not every man has to be your forever. Nothing says you can’t just have a little fun with someone and then move on.”

My head says that I can’t. My heart too.

I’ve never been that girl. I don’t want to be.

Though, if I were, Ethan is exactly who I would want to be that girl for.

“We are not talking about Kai. You’re going to kill my buzz.”

“You could tell me more about Ethan.”

“Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Work. Hookup. Work.”

“Hookup, huh? Who is he?”

She shrugs. “He’s no Ethan Ambrose, that’s for sure, but damn did he have rhythm.”

Her head falls back as she lets out a moan that causes me to laugh. In fact, we’re both laughing so hard that I barely hear my phone.

When the reminder sounds, Chelle reaches for it.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Unknown number.”

She hands the phone over. Sliding my finger over the screen, I unlock the phone and peer at the message.

Unknown: It was a pleasure meeting you.

“What does it say?” Chelle asks.

“That it was a pleasure meeting me.”

Chelle smiles, clapping her hands together giddily. “It’s Ethan.”

I shake my head. “No. I never gave him my number. Besides . . . ”

Chelle sits there waiting for me to finish my thought, but I can’t, because aside from Ethan, I can’t think of a single new person I’ve met recently. Especially not anyone I gave my number to.

“Only one way to find out.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to respond.”

“What? Are you crazy?” she shouts in my ear.

“Yeah, and deaf now too,” I say, pushing her away. “What am I supposed to say?”

Chelle grabs the phone from me and sends a message before I can get it back.

Me: I would say the same, but I don’t know who this is.

“Cute,” I tell her as I read the message that appears to have come from me.

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