Consider Me (Playing For Keeps Book 1)

OLIVIA

WHY? Why? Just shy of eighteen years old and they’ve got a better love life than me.

It’s twelfth grade gym class, for fuck’s sake. Do they need to be kissing?

“Aw, c’mon,” I groan, dragging a palm down my face as it turns into an aggressive game of tonsil hockey. “Okay, ladies, that’s enough.”

I prop my fists on my hips as Lucy and Jean ignore me. I can tell they’ve heard me—I can see the corners of the sly smiles they’re wearing—but my kids like to push me. It’s my own fault; I’m way too friendly and lenient with my students, and it sometimes backfires on me. I can’t keep count of how often I’m breaking apart public displays of affection, especially in my co-ed class.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope.” I clap my hands five hundred times until they stop. “You’re in class! You’re seventeen! Here’s an idea: wait until class ends.”

They break away with a laugh, and Lucy swipes the back of her wrist across her mouth. “Sorry, Miss Parker. You’re the only cool teacher at this school.”

I point at her. “Don’t try to butter me up with that cool teacher bullshit.” Shoving a set of pylons into her hands, I tell her, “Set these up along the red line, please.”

“Aw, man.” Jean tosses her head back with a groan. “Not shuttle sprints.”

“Yes, shuttle sprints. This is a fitness class, Miss Ross. You joined it of your volition.”

She crosses her arms and frowns, toeing at the gym floor with her sneakers. “Lucy made me.”

“Oh, the things we do for love.”

Lucy jogs back over after setting out the pylons, tossing her straight, jet-black hair over her shoulder. “You okay, Miss Parker? You seem a little, I donno…” She waves a hand around my face. “Sad, lately.”

“Me? Sad? No, I’m totally fine. Super-duper fine.” Super-duper fine, ladies and gentlemen.

Paul swaggers over, dropping his elbow to Lucy’s shoulder. “Yeah, what gives? You’ve barely laughed at any of my jokes.”

“Maybe you need to work on your material.”

He scoffs. “I’m funny as fu—” His mouth slams shut, eyes wide and set on me as I watch him with an arched brow. “Frick. Funny as frick.”

“Right, well—” My words drown in the sound of the gym doors bursting open, bouncing off the wall, and I clap a hand over my eyes and sigh as a gorgeous, leggy blonde sweeps into the space, all eyes on her as she tears off her oversized sunglasses. “For shit’s sake. Cara! You can’t just barge in here!” I sweep my arms out. “I’m in the middle of a class!”

She flicks her wrist. “Class dismissed.”

“What? No! No, class isn’t dismissed.” I twirl around, pointing at my students, all twenty-one sets of eyes bouncing between me and Cara. “Stay!”

Cara’s body slumps, head lolling backward. “C’mon, Miss Parker. It’s the last class of the day. Let these kids have some fun. Be cool.”

“I’m cool! I’m fun! We have lots of fun here!” I look around for validation, my own head bobbing. When I don’t get it, I toss a hand in the air. “Fine. Go. But anyone who’s late tomorrow is doing burpees.”

With my arms pinned across my chest and one foot tapping, I watch as every single one of my students high-fives my best friend. I wish I could say this is the first time this has happened, but it’s not, and it won’t be the last. Cara works on nobody’s schedule but her own, and my principal has a crush on her, so she strolls through those gym doors way too often.

Cara flashes me what I’m sure she thinks is a charming grin before sweeping both arms out toward my office. “Step into my office, Miss Parker.”

“It’s my office,” I huff, then dash forward in an unsuccessful attempt to beat her there.

She sinks to my chair, twisting back and forth, fingers steepled in front of her face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You are so incredibly irritating, you know that?”

She grins. “I really do, but I figured we were overdue for a work visit. Plus, those kids love me.”

“Because they get a free period every time you show up.”

“I’d make a great teacher.” Her eyes sparkle, and the way they linger on me unnerves me. Cara’s always had a way of seeing right through me. “What’s your plan for this weekend?”

“This weekend?”

She nods. “This weekend. You can’t avoid him, you know. He’s going to be there.”

I flop down to the chair across from my desk, legs over the armrest. “Who the hell manages to throw together such an extravagant engagement party only two weeks after the engagement?” I don’t touch on the fact that tomorrow night was supposed to be mine and Carter’s movie date.

Cara smiles at her nails as she checks them. “I have my connections.”

Her connections are that she owns her own event planning business, is absolutely unstoppable when she’s in party-planning mode, and when she needs something she doesn’t have—like, say, a venue that can service one hundred people on such short notice—she knows how to be persuasive. And I don’t mean flirty; I mean utterly terrifying.

“In fact, he’s the best man, so you’re gonna be walking down the aisle together at the wedding.”

The noises I make are not a coherent response. They’re mostly a string of grumbled curse words that make Cara grin.

“C’mon. What’s going through your mind? You’re keeping so much bottled up. I need you to talk to me.”

My teeth descend on my lower lip, tugging on it. “I know he didn’t do anything with that Sandie girl, and I know he’s allowed to be with whoever he wants; I’m the one that walked away. But it’s still scary, you know? He meant to hook up with her. It was his first knee-jerk reaction.” My voice lowers. “I can’t help but wonder if he’ll always try to hurt me when he’s angry with me, but at the same time, I know I hurt him first.”

“Sounds like you’ve both made some decisions recently based out of fear.”

“It feels like this vicious circle. Like a carousel that won’t stop. I want to climb off, but I don’t know how to get it to slow down.”

“Yes, you do. You need to decide to leave it all where it is or move forward.” She walks to the whiteboard that hangs on the wall, picking up a marker. I follow her. “So here’s what we’re gonna do.” She scrawls Carter Beckett across the top of the board, underlines it three times, then draws a stick figure with a giant penis. I’m going to need to erase this immediately. She finishes with a heart on the left and a frowny face on the right.

“We are not making a pros and cons list.”

“Think of it as a list of likes and dislikes.” She taps the X. “Now, things you don’t—”

“He’s a playboy.”

“Previous…fear…of…commitment,” she scribes, which is not at all what I said.

“He’s arrogant, cocky, and flashy.” Except the second the tip of Cara’s marker touches the board, I stop her. “Wait. I think I kinda like that. He’s…proud. Charismatic. Confident. I think they’re good qualities. I wish I was as sure of myself as he is.” Then we likely wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Hm. Interesting.”

I flick her elbow while she scrawls beneath the heart. “Wipe that smile off your face or I’ll wipe it off for you.”

“You’re obviously very physically attracted to him.”

I nod, humming. “I wanna tap that man like a maple tree.”

“And he’s funny,” Cara suggests.

My head bobs as I run the tip of my fingernail across my lower lip. “He makes me laugh a lot, and he’s kind of a big goofball. He makes me feel good about myself. He’s painfully honest, and I like the way he smells and the way he plays with my hair. And when he looks at me…when he looks at me, it’s like it’s only me and him. I like the way he looks at me. And I like that his house is his escape, that he likes to stare at the stars and the mountains and forget the noise, and he has the prettiest smile and the best dimples, and he was so sweet with the kids at the fundraiser and such a good sport at taking the pies to the face, and he’s a good friend, and—” I suck in oxygen I’m in desperate need of, noticing the soft smile on Cara’s face.

“Bet he’s a good snuggler. He’s all big and burly, and he’s not all that great with personal space.”

A tingly warmth starts in my belly and spreads throughout my body as I remember the way Carter hauled me against him after each round, how his arms came around me, his face in the crook of my neck as his lips touched my skin over and over again, his hand on my throat as he kept me right where he wanted me. There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to be anywhere other than right there.

Cara picks up the hockey skate charm hanging from my lanyard, examining it before gesturing at the board. It’s full below the heart, and oddly empty below the frowny face. “Looks like you have your answer.”

A lump forms in the back of my throat, a shiver of apprehension dancing down my spine as I wring my hands. “I know I do. But that doesn’t make it less scary. His past was his present only a month ago. My fears are logical and warranted, aren’t they?”

Cara’s compassionate gaze stays on me as a beat of silence stretches between us. “I understand, Liv. I get where you’re coming from, because it’s the same reason I kept him from meeting you for so long. It’s impossible to ignore the caution signs, especially when they’re constantly being thrust in your face everywhere you turn. Carter’s always owned his decisions and he’s never shied away from them being splashed about so publicly. And now you’re thinking that there’s no way this is real. That you’re another girl that doesn’t mean anything. That he’s going to have you and toss you aside when he’s done. But he’s already had you, and he still wants you. You like him, and he likes you. There’s no problem here, other than that you’re letting fear of the unknown dictate your life.

“So are your fears warranted? Absolutely. But it’s up to you to rise above them, to step outside your comfort zone and put yourself out there, if you want to explore this thing with Carter. What do you think?”

I sink down to the chair, twirling my ponytail around my fingers as I stare at my runners. “I can’t stop thinking about him. Everything feels natural with him, and he pushes me to open up. For someone so assertive, he’s always been incredibly patient with me.” My gaze lifts, floating to Cara. “I think I’d really like for both of us to give this a chance, if he still wants that.”

Cara snorts and pulls out her phone. She flashes me her screen, and I see World’s Most Annoying Man at the top of the message thread, accompanied by a tiny profile photo of Carter. My eyes drop to the messages scattered on the screen.

is ollie ok? i don’t want her 2 be upset about that girl.

does she hate me?

do u think she wants to talk maybe 1 day soon?

maybe i could send her flowers???? roses? sunflowers? seems like a bright flower kinda girl.

i think i miss her, care. this sux.

“Safe to say he still wants to give it a shot, Liv.” She leans against my desk, nudging the toe of my shoe with hers. “I’m proud of you. Going after what you want sounds easy to some people, but the reality is that sometimes it’s just fucking scary. I think leaving when you did gave you the chance to step back and gain some clarity on the intensity of your feelings and what you wanted.”

The school bell rings, signaling the end of another day, and Cara slings her purse over her shoulder and tosses my bag and coat at me before I can get a response out.

“Did you get your dress sorted for Saturday?”

“No.” I groan as we slip out the gym doors. “I’ve been to the mall twice this week and I can’t find anything.”

“All right, off to the mall we go. You need my expertise.”

“I don’t have time for a Cara-sized trip to the mall. I’ve gotta be home by five. Jeremy’s dropping Alannah off.”

“Oh, sweet Livvie. We’ll be in and out in a half hour. I promise you.”

We’re in and out in seventeen minutes.

Cara towed me into a store, waltzed up to a rack, picked a dress in nine seconds, shoved me into the change room, and then made every single employee come look at how “fucktacular” I looked. Honestly, I couldn’t disagree, hence the seventeen-minute trip.

Now she’s invited herself over for dinner, citing wanting to get my niece riled up before bed. Alannah’s sleeping over because tomorrow is Take Your Kid To Work Day, and she begged me to come to school with me, even though she’s not, in fact, my offspring. She said she wanted to boss around the big kids.

“I’ll be quick,” Cara promises as she pulls into her driveway. “Just need to grab something. Why don’t you come in and say hi to Em?”

“If you’re going to be qu—”

She slams the door, gesturing through the windshield for me to follow her, and with a sigh, I follow my bossy best friend through her front door.

I should’ve known it was a trap.

Because when she shoves me down the hallway and toward the kitchen, instead of only Emmett, I get the impossibly large frame of Mr. Beckett, frozen while he stares at me from halfway inside the opened fridge, jaw dangling.

“Hey! Hi! Olivia!” He’s yelling; I don’t know if he realizes. “G-good,” he sputters. “You look good!” Still yelling. He slams the fridge door and drops his elbow to the countertop, nearly missing his chin when he tries to prop it up in his palm.

I look down at my outfit. I’m still in my running shoes, a pair of Lululemon leggings that Cara got me for Christmas—because who the hell can afford to spend a hundred-plus dollars on a pair of workout pants—and a hoodie with my niece’s hockey team’s name scrawled across it. My hair’s in a messy, low ponytail, tucked beneath a toque, and I look like I spent the day teaching fitness, which is exactly what I did. Carter looks like he spent the day lounging on the couch and still belongs on the cover of GQ. His charcoal gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, highlighting what I know to be an entirely too-impressive package, and his dry-fit Vipers shirt clings to every muscle of his flawlessly sculpted torso.

I barely resist the urge to fan my hot face.

“Oops!” Cara sashays into the room. “Carter! Totally forgot you were here!” Her sneaky smile is suspect.

“Uh-huh,” Emmett muses. “Forgot.” His air quotes are perfectly placed. “We’re gonna order pizza. You ladies want some?”

“Can’t stay, babe,” Cara tells him, which is good, because I don’t think I can speak. “Send some to Liv’s. We’re eating there.”

Carter and I are having an epic stare off. I can’t look away, nor do I really want to.

Until Cara takes my hand and starts towing me across the room.

My mouth quirks, and I give Carter a tiny wave. “Bye,” I whisper.

His entire face shatters with a cheek-splitting grin.

“Wait!” Both hands come up as his body does this weird rock-swivel thing, like he has no idea what he’s looking for. Then he launches into the living room and returns a moment later, sliding across the floor in his socks, two cookies in his hand. With a shaky grip, he holds them up to me. “Oreos.”

My God, he’s freaking adorable.

I try to ignore the zing that passes from the tip of his fingers to mine when we touch, but it’s impossible. This man is a live wire and my entire body sizzles with need when he’s around.

He dashes ahead of us outside in his socks, which are now sure to be soaked from the snow, and pries open the passenger door for me. As we back out of the driveway, he watches us from the front porch, that ridiculous, over the top lopsided smile never waning.

“Man’s in love,” Cara mutters, and when we walk up my front steps twenty minutes later, I’m still focusing on those words, wondering if they might be our future someday.

We’re not in my house for two minutes when the front door swings open, a gangly brunette sweeping inside, flinging her sleepover bag into the wall when she sweeps her arms out with an extravagant flourish.

“I’m here, baby!” Alannah twirls, stopping with wiggling fingers in the air, sparkling grin set on me.

“Jazz hands? Really?”

Her giggle fills my small house, and she bounds over to me, leaping into my arms and tackling me into the wall. It’s short-lived, thank God, because when she spots Cara, it’s game over.

My brother finally makes it through the door, looking from them to me. “Alannah and Cara? You fucking nuts?” He rolls his eyes as his daughter comes bounding over to him, hand out for the dollar she gets from him swearing. “You sure you don’t wanna stay at our house?” Jeremy asks. “Be a whole lot quieter.”

“Quieter and boring.” Alannah rolls her eyes. “Mummy and Daddy said they’re gonna take a nap tonight after Jemmy goes to bed since I’m not gonna be home, since, ya know, I stay up way later than him.” Jemmy is her little brother Jeremy. Yes, my brother named his son after himself. I call my nephew Jem, and most of the time, my brother Asshole.

Cara laughs. “A nap, eh Jer?” She aims a pointed look at Alannah. “You sure you’re not trying to make a third?”

“Fuck no.” Another sigh, another dollar for his daughter. “I forgot how hard babies were. I’m done.”

“You should get snipped.”

He claps a hand over his crotch. “Don’t threaten my boys.”

A young man I don’t know appears at my door with one of those bright red insulated bags. He pulls out two pizza boxes. “Uh, Ollie…Ollie Wallie?”

“Oh my God.” I bury my face behind my hand before I take the pizzas. “Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”

He shakes his head and starts back down the steps, waving over his shoulder. “Prepaid over the phone!”

“Oooh, pizza.” Jeremy reaches for the lid of the top box, but Cara slaps his hand away, taking the pizza and heading into the kitchen, Alannah hot on her heels. He frowns, taking another step in, and a shudder shakes his shoulders. “It’s freezing in here, Ol. Furnace broken again?”

“Guess so,” I murmur, moving to the thermostat. Fifty-five. I press at the buttons, waiting for that sound that lets me know the furnace is whirring to life, but it never comes, so I smash on them some more, then smack my forehead off the little box twice, in case that’ll do anything. When all of the above fails, my ears burn beneath the toque I still wear as I avoid my brother’s gaze. This thing is broken 80 percent of the time, he’s fixed it for me at least three times, and I’ve had it professionally fixed four times. It’s always temporary. “I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

I rub my arm and look down at my feet. “Because it’s freezing in here and Alannah’s staying over. It was working when I left for work this morning, I promise.” It’s hard not to feel like a failure around my brother sometimes, and right now is one of those times.

Jeremy rolls his eyes and tugs on my hoodie. “Load her up in your ratty sweats before you go to bed. She won’t break.”

“I’m tough as nails, Auntie Ollie.” Alannah peeks out from the kitchen, flexing her biceps and growling like a bear, a slice of cheese pizza between her teeth.

I follow Jeremy down to the basement, nibbling my thumbnail as he plays around with the furnace. When he sighs, I know the verdict isn’t good.

“Hate to tell you this, Ol, but this thing is toast. You need to replace it.”

The look on my face tells him exactly what I’m thinking: fan-fucking-tastic. A furnace is not on the list of things I can afford right now.

“Kris and I can help you out.”

I wave my hands around in front of my face. He’s bailed me out before, which was hard enough for me to accept. A new furnace is where I draw the line. “I have some emergency money saved up.”

His brows quirk as he gestures for me to head up the stairs, and I think he’s going to drop it, until we emerge from the basement, and he pauses at my side to whisper in my ear. “You’re a terrible fucking liar.”

When he leaves a minute later, I find Cara and Alannah spread out on the living room floor, pizza covering the coffee table as they flip through Netflix.

“There’s a special pizza for you,” Cara tells me without looking up.

I pad into the kitchen and lift the lid on the box, huffing a laugh at the toppings. It’s only one, actually. Bacon. Real bacon. An unholy amount of bacon. Like, an entire pound. Curled, crispy edges, tiny bubbles of grease, a savory, smoky aroma that overloads my senses in the best way.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my hoodie, and I press Play on the video from Emmett.

It’s of Carter, loading up a plate with pizza while he sings.

“Don’t go bacon my heart! Mmm, mmm! I won’t go bacon your heart! So, oooh, oooh! Don’t go bacon my heart!”

Carter heaves what sounds like a happy sigh, flopping down on the couch. “You think Ollie likes the extra-extra bacon pizza I ordered her? I bet she found the most bacon-y slice.” He hums a laugh, tipping his head back as he drops half a slice of pizza into his mouth. “I can’t wait to see her at the party Saturday. Maybe I’ll line my pockets with bacon.”

The video goes black at the exact moment I realize how inexplicably doomed I am when it comes to this man.

It’s nearly midnight when I disengage from Alannah’s koala-like grip, quietly climbing out of bed and tucking the blankets up around her shoulders. Turning on the lamp in the living room, I snuggle up beneath a cozy blanket on the couch and dial the number that’ll connect me to the voice I need to hear more than anything right now.

“The only acceptable reason for you calling so late is to tell me that you’ve finally come to your senses and you’re moving home.”

Giggling, I lay on my side, stuffing the phone between my ear and the cushion. “Sorry to disappoint you yet again, Mom.”

She laughs, light and soft, a sound I’ve missed. “What’s up, sweetie?”

“I just miss you.”

“I miss you always, honey. What’s going on?”

“I met…I met someone.”

“Oh, honey. You have a boyfriend! James! James, Ollie has a boyfriend!”

“Mom, no! I don’t have a—ugh.” Why did I call?

“Boyfriend? Who? She’s too young for a boyfriend. No. Not ’til she’s thirty. I’ve got five more years! Get my shotgun!” Dad doesn’t have a shotgun, which is how I know he’s joking. Mostly. I think. I hope.

“Carter’s not my boyfriend,” I mumble into the cushion.

“Carter? Sounds cute. What does he look like? What does he do? Oooh, let me guess! He’s a teacher at your school. No—principal! Are you dating the principal? So scandalous. I’m into it.”

“You literally could not be colder.” I’m also not going to tell my mom what Carter does. I didn’t even mean to say his name. I’ve already said too much, so I just repeat, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him.”

“I like him.”

“And does he like you?”

My heart patters a little harder. “Yes.”

“So…what’s the problem?”

“He has a reputation…with the ladies.” This is about as awkward as I expected it to be.

“Oh. And you’re scared.” She’s not asking; she’s telling. My mom has always been one of my best friends, hence being so utterly upset with me when I packed up and moved across the country. She knows me like the back of her hand, and I can’t hide a thing from her.

“Terrified.”

“What scares you the most?”

“That I’m going to fall in love with him.”

“Oh, honey.” Mom laughs. It’s one of those humoring laughs, the kind where you expect her to say you sweet, sweet fool when she wraps it up. “I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but if you’re scared of falling in love with him, well…you’re already halfway there.”

I fall asleep with her words playing on repeat, and when Alannah and I are on the way out the door the next morning, my phone sounds in my coat pocket. I pull it out as I lock the door, tapping through to Emmett’s text message as I head down the steps.

Emmett: Theater 4, row L, seats 10 & 11. Tonight at 7:30.

Emmett: He’s still going.

The air around me stills as I reread the details, the seats Carter meticulously picked for our movie date while we curled up by the fire on his balcony—last row, dead center.

He’s still going.

A strange but welcome calm unfurls in my belly, climbing into my chest, allowing my shoulders to unstack, my spine to straighten. I feel lighter somehow, like a weight has been lifted. The weight of my fear, maybe, or my indecisiveness. Both of those things have the power to drag you down like anchors, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been letting them pull me under since the first time that man made my heart stutter.

Alannah tugs on my hand. “Why are you smiling so big, Auntie Ollie?”

I fix the Vipers toque on my niece’s head, covering her ears. “I’m just happy, honey.”

She grins up at me. “Happy looks good on you.”

Feels damn good too.