The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

Listen, I’m all for a partner who wants to stay home. Work from home or stay home and raise kids. What I have a problem with is someone who lies about their intentions from the start, pretending to be someone they are not with an end goal of being pampered and given gifts and a lifetime of Botox and fillers in their face to keep them looking gorgeous without having to work for any of it.

And by work, I mean: put effort into the relationship. Getting to know me. Getting physical with me. Showing affection.

Once she thought she was getting what she wanted, all that stopped. Once she moved into my house, she changed.

Began ordering my housekeeper around, gave my sister hours that she and Skipper could swing by, wouldn’t let me touch her on certain nights of the week.

It was embarrassing and insulting.

You may be wondering why I fell for a girl like that to begin with and the truth is, I still don’t know myself. I thought about it endlessly. My sister had known it all along, of course, and had warned me. But there’s only so much listening a man who thinks he’s in love will do, you know? I thought I knew Willa. I thought she was a good person. Hell, I even thought she loved volunteering the same way I do, but it turns out that was a lie just like everything else. What Willa loved was designer purses and free rent.

Our first Christmas together, after only dating six months, she made me a list and presented it so I could do my Christmas shopping, get her some things that she wanted—and nothing she didn’t. God forbid I get her a simple sweater or plain hoop earrings.

There was nothing on that list under one thousand dollars.

I remember my jaw hitting the floor when I held the paper and yet, the red flag still hadn’t started waving until I came home one afternoon and overheard her in the kitchen with Skipper. She was telling my niece, who was six years old at the time, that she would no longer be allowed to come and go as she pleased—she would have to text her first.

Her. Willa.

Text Willa, not Uncle Davis.

Total bullshit.

The whole thing was devastating to me; as devastating as it was to Skipper and my sister, having some woman basically kick them out after I’d supported them for years. “The gravy train is over,” Willa had told my niece. She didn’t realize that she wasn’t the gravy train—I was and she was on the receiving end of it, too. Only Willa was too selfish and stubborn to admit it, acting as if she was the one occasionally doling out the money for bills and groceries to my sister and not me.

Besides, it wasn’t actually any of her business what I did with my money at that point; we weren’t married, engaged, or anything of the sort.

“The point is,” Thad is rambling on, half of his babble I missed from woolgathering. “Everyone loves you and I don’t get why Juliet doesn’t have her nose up your ass like everyone else does.”

“No one has their nose up my ass.”

“Sure they do.” He pops another piece of orange in his mouth and chews. “That woman at your gym.”

“Sheila? She’s the manager. She has to be friendly.”

His shrug is noncommittal. “Okay, what about that woman at the place where you buy your pants?”

I roll my eyes. “All these women are in retail. They have to like me so they can make money off of me.”

He relents. “True, but admit it, you’re a neat guy.”

Neat.

Never been described as neat before, but hey—I’ll take it. “Thanks, bro, you’re neat too.”

“I would date you.”

“Thanks, man. I feel the same way about you.”

Juliet comes walking up the path just then, stopping to watch Thad and I embrace, a slow shake of her head as a smile crosses her lips.

Thad and I pull apart, doing the back pat as we move away.

“No, no—please, don’t let me interrupt your bromance.”

“We were done being mushy with each other—you weren’t interrupting anything,” Thad says. “Besides, every day is a bromance with this guy around.”

Juliet’s eyes shift to me. “I bet.”

Thad nudges me in the ribcage and I nudge him back. The last thing I need is him playing matchmaker with a woman who doesn’t seem to have any interest in me. If she had her way, I’d be sleeping on the cold, hard ground beneath the camper—not inside of it.

Besides. I haven’t heard her mention jack shit about herself since we’ve been cooped up together.

I literally know nothing about her; as far as I know, we have zero things in common. It’s possible she doesn’t like animals or small children, or even want children of her own.

I want a family. Apparently finding a woman willing to bear one is more difficult than I’d thought it would be.