The Game Plan (Game On 3)

I clear my throat. “I think you got the talking down pat, Big Guy.”

He pauses and takes an audible breath. “I never got to taste you, Fi. I regret that. I have no idea what a pussy tastes like, and all I can think about is yours. God, I want to spread you wide and take my time, savor every inch, see if your flavor changes when you come.”

“Ethan,” my voice cracks.

“See? It’s too much, isn’t it?”

Somehow I manage to laugh. “Any more and I’m going to spontaneously combust right here on Fifth Avenue.”

“Yeah?” He sounds surprised. Poor, deluded, sexy center.

“I think you’re right,” I say, forcing myself to walk again. “No more sex talk. It’s killing me too.”

A sad sort of half-chuckle rumbles through my phone. “I know. So…” His voice strains as if he’s reaching for lightness. “Tell me something else to take my mind out from under your skirt. How’s work?”

Yeah, right there is an immediate buzz kill.

Fuck, my throat hurts again. I want to tell him everything, right down to the bone-deep agony I feel in failing once again. But I don’t want him to see that side of me. Flighty Fi who can’t keep her shit together. I can’t stand the thought of being diminished in his eyes.

“It’s fine.”

He’s silent for a moment, and for the first time, I’m grateful for the physical distance between us. He can’t see my face.

“I thought you had to leave because of a work issue,” he says carefully.

Great. Either I’m lying about work or I lied about why I left him. Silently cursing, I grind my teeth and search for an answer. “It’s all settled. Not as big a deal as I’d thought.”

“Well,” he says. “That’s good.”

He doesn’t sound like he buys my story. God, I’m fucking up already, building this house-of-cards relationship on a shifty set of lies. But I can’t tell him. I can’t. I’ll start crying here and now.

“I’m at the bar,” I tell him with false levity. “Call you later?”

“Always, Cherry,” he says softly. I hear him take a breath. “Fi?”

My heart pounds as I grip the phone like a life line. “Yeah?”

“Just know I’m with you. Even when I’m far away, I’m with you.”

It’s all I can do not to sob. I stand on the corner of 5th and 25th, the world flowing by me like rippling water, and feel such loneliness I have to hug myself around my middle. “Thank you, Ethan.”

I hang up then, because I can’t say anything more without breaking my heart wide open.

Chapter Twenty

Fiona

Anna and I end up not drinking but buying sandwiches at Eataly and claiming a table in the Flatiron Plaza, the little pedestrian triangle of concrete between Broadway and 5th. The weather is gorgeous in the way of New York in the fall—crisp breezes cutting through sun-warmed air.

I don’t talk about my job issues. I’d rather enjoy the evening than ruin my appetite.

“So, Dex?” Anna grins before taking a sip of her latte.

I don’t know if she found out from Ivy, or if Gray blabbed to Drew—though my money is on Gray. Regardless, I can’t help but grin back. “Yeah. Dex.”

I hold in a dreamy sigh, because that would be overkill. But Anna’s too quick. My satisfaction doesn’t escape her notice.

“That good, eh?” Her cheeks plump, and the breeze sends her red curls spiraling around her head.

“Let’s just say fauxgasms are unnecessary.”

“Fauxgasms?” Anna asks with a laugh.

“Fake orgasms.” I give her a look. “God, please don’t tell me you’ve never had to fake it. I think I’ll die of envy.”

My sex life hasn’t been horrible or anything, but college boys, by and large, are pretty much pump and dump, lather, rinse, repeat.

Dex had been a virgin, and yet he’d put his entire body and soul into the act. I’d felt cherished and my body worshiped. Never mind that Dex is so freaking sexy, all he has to do is look at me and I’m a hot mess.

Anna swallows a bite before shaking her head. “Of course I’ve faked it. Never with Drew, though.”

I roll my eyes at that but laugh. “I hope not since you’re marrying the guy.”

“Oh, he leaves me quite satisfied. Quite.”

We give each other an immature fist bump and dissolve into laughter.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” Anna says.

“Why? Because of the athlete thing?”

“Well, partially that. I mean you’ve shrugged off every friend of Drew’s who’s hit on you.”

More than a few guys on Drew’s team have made passes whenever I hang out with him and Anna. And, yes, my refusals were mainly because they were football players. But some were also total meatheads.

“But really,” Anna continues, “it’s more that Dex is so quiet. I mean, I love the guy, but you’re not exactly shy.”

I have to laugh. “He’s not quiet when we’re together. Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’d kill someone who was exactly like me. Imagine all the noise, noise, noise!” I fake a shudder.

Anna gives me an obligatory smile, but then it fades. “So why do you look so sad, Fi?”

Like that I wilt. I could tell her about my job. But that’s not what’s hurting my heart at the moment. “Because I don’t think I’m cut out for a long-distance relationship. I miss him already.” I don’t just miss him. I need him. Here. Now. “I’ve got all this fluttery anticipation and nowhere for it to go until we see each other again. Won’t it get worse the more attached I get?”