Playing Hard to Get (The Players)

I ARRIVE BACK at my apartment earlier than normal, my nerves making my palms sweat. Mentally crossing my fingers that Natalie is still home, I push open the door to find her sprawled on the couch, her laptop propped in her lap, an open can of…Pringles sitting right next to her.

“Oh hey.” Her gaze barely flicks to mine as she reaches into the familiar red can—going traditional, I guess—and pulls out a short stack of chips. “I always thought they looked like duck lips.”

“They do.” I shut the door and lean against it, mentally thumbing through the various things I planned on discussing with her. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” She hits the space bar on her keyboard to stop whatever she was watching and shuts the laptop, setting it beside her on the couch. “It’s been a while, huh?”

That is a pointless question I don’t bother answering because we both know that, yeah, it’s definitely been a while.

I settle into the overstuffed chair across from the couch, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath before I launch into what I want to say. “I feel bad about what happened when we had that…argument.”

She’s frowning at me, her brows drawing together as if she has no idea what I’m talking about. “What argument?”

“When we got mad at each other over—the guys. About Knox and Bryan and everything. What I said to you.” I wave a hand, not wanting to dismiss it exactly, but, wow, what a dumb subject to argue over.

Isn’t that normal, though? A lot of big fights start over petty arguments.

Though my worry for her about her drinking isn’t dumb. And I guess her worry about me getting taken advantage of isn’t dumb either.

“Oh. I’m not still mad about that, I hope you know.”

I blink at her. “You’re not?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not even seeing Derek anymore. I blew him off about…oh, a month ago.”

Right after we argued and I started to stay away from her because I thought she was avoiding me.

“And I’m not going out as much,” she admits. “Or if I am out, I don’t drink like I used to. Maybe you were right.”

The relief that floods me is almost overwhelming.

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“I thought you were mad,” she throws back at me. When I gape at her, she continues, “About Knox and all that. I know you two are pretty hot and heavy.”

“How do you know?” I haven’t really told her much, but maybe it’s obvious because I’m never here.”

“First of all, I feel like my roommate disappeared.” Her smile is kind, so at least she doesn’t seem angry about that little fact. “Second, I’ve been hanging out with Blair more. She told me you two were seeing each other a lot.”

“Wait, did Knox tell her?” I’m panicking, but not in a bad way. His friends all know we’re hanging out, but I have no clue if he’s defined what we’re doing to anyone yet.

“Of course not. He’s not going to confess to his little sister that he’s banging the hottie.” She grins at me and I roll my eyes, only faintly embarrassed. “But she has eyes, and so do I. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”

“Oh.” I drop my gaze to my lap, trying to figure out what direction to take this conversation next, when Natalie keeps talking.

“I miss you. I figured you were mad at me and that’s why you were staying away. I said some shitty things, and I’m sorry. I guess I was just—jealous of you and Knox.”

“I’m sorry too,” I admit, my voice quiet. “And I’m glad you’re not drinking as much. I wasn’t avoiding you, just so you know.”

Well, maybe a little bit.

“I figured you were with Knox, and I get it. I’d want to stay with that gorgeous man all the time too.” I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. “But I wasn’t sure what I did that made you stay away from me. I even talked to Leon about it.”

“He told me.” The next words burst out of me as if I’ve been keeping a secret for years. “I didn’t like what you said, Nat. About me being in a controlling relationship. It hurt my feelings and that’s partially why I kept my distance. Plus, I truly believed you were pissed at me for what I said.”

“What? No.” She shakes her head, an incredulous look on her face. “Are you telling me we just went through the classic miscommunication trope? We let this drag on when we could’ve cleared everything up with a conversation a few weeks ago?”

“I guess so.” I feel really dumb.

But I’m also relieved. I don’t like thinking one of my best friends is so mad at me she refuses to talk to me. That was almost too much to bear.

“We are so ridiculous.” Natalie pushes off the couch and throws out her arms, making grabby motions with her hands. “Come to mama.”

I go to her and we embrace, clinging to each other for an almost embarrassing amount of time, but the relief is so strong, I’m afraid I’m going to cry.

I actually do tear up, and when I finally pull away from her, I notice Nat’s eyes are glassy too.

“Next time, just come to me,” she says with a watery laugh.

“Right back at you,” I tell her, and we both smile.

“Now sit down and tell me all about Knox Maguire and how many positions that guy has had you in so far.” Leave it to Nat to ask the most personal question first. “I can only imagine how creative he must be.”

I fall onto the couch with her and fill her in, only leaving a few details out. The ones I want to keep just for myself.

Like how sweet he is. That dreamy look that he sometimes gets in his eyes when he’s looking at me. How forceful he can be too. How he growls or manhandles me when we’re having sex.

The manhandling sounds worse than it is. I just love how he moves me around on the bed, getting me into position. Or how he lifts me up and carries me around as if I don’t weigh a thing. I know I have fuck the patriarchy written in permanent ink on my skin, but there is something so deliciously masculine in the way he touches me. Takes care of me.

I can’t get enough of it.

“I have something to tell you,” Natalie says, her voice breaking through my thoughts. “And I wanted to make sure and tell you this in person.”

“What is it?” Dread makes my stomach twist.

“Bryan reached out to me about a week ago.”

“WHAT?” I practically scream the word, making her wince, and I immediately feel bad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I’m just—so shocked. How did he contact you? When? What did he say?”

“He DM’d me a few days ago. We’ve been following each other since freshman year, you know? He was your boyfriend, so we would like each other’s posts. Reply to each other’s stories sometimes. It was all harmless.”

“What are you trying to say?” My stomach is now tangled into a knot. “He didn’t try to hit on you, did he?”

“No, not at all. He asked me if you were doing okay.”

“Please tell me you said I’m doing fabulous and getting railed on a nightly basis by a gorgeous football player.” Oh my God, have I completely changed or what? I would’ve never wanted something like that to come out a few months ago, especially to my ex-boyfriend. Now I’ve got my fingers crossed that Nat told him exactly that.

Even better, in true Natalie fashion, she might’ve given him even more graphic details.

“I didn’t say you were getting railed nightly.” She laughs. “But I did tell him you were kind of seeing someone.”

Kind of? Ugh, that’s not strong enough. But that’s not Nat’s fault.

“What did he say?” I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me. I already know what he thinks—he never really loved me like I thought he did. Or the feelings faded…

“He said he was glad you’re happy.”

“That’s it?” I feel like that can’t be it.

“Well, he kept talking to me, so I dug for information, like a good best friend would, right?”

I would do the exact same thing for her. “What else did he tell you?”

“That he and Clara broke up.”

“WHAT?” That’s the second time I’ve screamed that word, but I can’t help it. Natalie is dropping bombs left and right on me. “They broke up?”

She nods. “I guess she dumped him. Left him with that apartment and a lease he can’t get out of. Now he’s completely freaking out and trying to find a roommate.”

“That’s called karma.” I don’t even feel bad. “Why did she leave? Did he tell you?”

“Oh, I asked, but he kind of hedged around that question. He did mention that they had a huge fight, but he didn’t expect her to just walk out like that.”

I think about how calm our last encounter was. When he told me he wanted to end things because he’d met someone else. How quietly devastated I was, but I tried to keep everything inside. I didn’t want to fall apart in front of him. I didn’t want him to think he had that much power over me.

How would I react if Knox told me he didn’t want to see me anymore?

The mere thought almost has me choking up.

“I don’t feel bad for him.” My voice is flat.

“I don’t either. He’s a giant dickhead.” The meaningful look Nat sends me immediately fills me with worry. “I feel like he’s sniffing around you, Jo.”

“What exactly do you mean?” I ask carefully.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he came crawling back and begged for your forgiveness.”

I absolutely hate the idea of that. “I won’t take him back.”

“I know you won’t, but that probably won’t stop him from trying.”

“I don’t even want him to try. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Has he tried to message you anywhere?”

“I blocked his phone number, remember?” I’d done it in a fit of rage, and I don’t regret it. It kept him from contacting me—and kept me from trying to reach out to him. “And I unfollowed him everywhere else.”

“Check your DM’s.” She waves a hand at me.

I pull out my phone and do as she says, opening my requests inbox.

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach when I see it.

“He sent me a message.” I jerk my head up to find Nat watching me with huge eyes.

“Read it,” she whispers.

I open the message, hating how shaky I feel. I don’t want him affecting me anymore. It’s annoying, and honestly, so unnecessary. I don’t care about him, not like I used to, but he still has this way of getting to me.

More like it makes me nervous, how he’s trying to reach out to me. Why? What are his motives?

Clearing my throat, I read the message out loud.

“Hey Jo. I hope you’re doing okay. I was thinking about you and just wanted to reach out, but couldn’t since you basically blocked me everywhere. Hopefully you see this message and if you do, maybe we could talk? I’d love to hear your voice.” I drop my phone onto the chair cushion and lean back with an irritated sigh. “I didn’t really block him. I just unfollowed him.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to hear his voice. If I had the choice, I would never hear from him again.” I stare at the ceiling, trying to calm the tumultuous feelings swirling deep inside me. “I wish he would leave me alone.”

“If you ignore him, he will,” Natalie suggests.

“Yeah, you’re right. If he reaches out to you again, tell him I’m not interested in having a conversation with him ever again. I don’t care how harsh that sounds.”

“It’s not harsh at all. It’s what the asshole deserves, if you ask me.”

My phone dings with a text notification, and I grab it, half-believing it’s going to be another message from my shitty ex. But it’s not.

It’s from Knox.

Smiling, my heart eases, and I open the message to read it.

Knox: I’m about to start practice but wanted to ask if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight?

Me: Are you asking me on a date?

He responds quickly.

Knox: Yeah. I realized we don’t do that enough. Go on real dates. I want to take you out.

My heart threatens to burst out of my chest.

Me: I’d love to.

Knox: Get dressed up. I made a reservation for eight.

Me: You made a reservation before you asked me? Am I that much of a sure thing?

Knox: You were the one who used to play hard to get. Now that I’ve got you where I want you, yeah. You’re a sure thing.

Me: Rude.

Knox: I don’t think you’re protesting.

Me: And what do you mean, you’ve got me where you want me?

I wait nervously for his reply.

Knox: With me. All the time.

“Who are you texting?” Natalie asks.

“Knox.” I’m giddy, tapping away at my screen.

Me: So possessive.

Knox: Fuck the patriarchy?

Knox: Or just fuck me?

Me: KNOX.

Knox: Stop pretending you don’t love it. You’re a lot dirtier than I thought you’d be.

Now I’m blushing.

Me: The more appropriate word is filthy.

Knox: And hot?

I send him a bunch of fire emojis to let him know I approve of his word choice.

Knox: Make sure you wear something hot and filthy to dinner.

Me: I can’t wear something slutty to a restaurant.

Knox: Fine, just don’t wear panties then.

Oh, this man…

“You’re blushing.” Natalie’s voice is smug.

And Knox leaves me feeling warm all over. Forget Bryan. He lost out when he tossed me away like yesterday’s trash.

Best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.