Play Me (Take a Chance 3)

She looked like she didn’t want to answer. “Because I…I thought…you used to like me…and Pete hated you.”

His heart wrenched. He’d been a revenge screw. It hadn’t even been because she wanted him, for fuck’s sakes. It had been about getting revenge on the man she had loved once. He’d never felt so used. “Wow. I’m going to leave now.”

“I can’t lose you.”

Those words ripped through his chest and tore his heart out. She couldn’t do this to him. Couldn’t make it seem like he mattered to her as more than just reliable Garrett, when he so clearly didn’t. And he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt when it did. “I just need some space. We’ll be fine.”

But he doubted that. They wouldn’t be fine ever again. He tugged his shirt over his head.

She wrung the blanket in her hands, looking as if she were fighting to find the right words. It made him feel like an ass for wanting her. Like he’d done something wrong or heinous. She stumbled to her feet, gloriously naked. “Don’t go. I’m sorry, but please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone. It’s a rough day for me. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m still not.”

His anger at himself softened and he sat beside her and lifted her chin up with his thumb. She looked up at him with hope in her eyes. He knew what she wanted him to say. Knew she hoped he would say it was a mistake. That he didn’t think he could ever love her. But he wouldn’t lie. Not even to save her from guilt.

“I’m not leaving you, Kiersten.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “But I can’t be a revenge fuck. Not with you.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, but didn’t take his eyes off of her. “Stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.” His grip tightened on her.

“Can you stay the night? Give me more time to think?”

“You can have all the time to think that you want, sweetheart.” He stood and rubbed the back of his neck, still coming to terms with everything that had happened since he’d arrived at her house. Never in a million years did he anticipate making love to Keirsten tonight—or how intense his feelings about it would be. But he couldn’t. “I care about you enough to wait for you—but I can’t wait for you with you.”

He turned on his heel and walked out of her room…and out of her life.

Chapter Four

Three months, two weeks, one day, and nineteen hours.

That’s how long it had been since Garrett walked away from Kiersten. She barely even spoke to him anymore, other than a soft hello as they passed on the court after practices. It was probably better that way. Anything more than a brief encounter hurt too much. He’d spent most of his life pretending not to care about her. Pretending he was fine without her. But now that he’d had one night in her arms, he knew he wasn’t.

And he wanted her more than he could ever possibly describe.

Oh well. Tough shit. He wasn’t going to get her on his terms. And he wouldn’t accept hers.

Fuck. He needed a drink. Or three.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and froze. Pots clanged in the kitchen. Dropping his gym bag to the carpet, he walked around the corner. Only Mike had a copy of his key, and that was just in case of an emergency or if he somehow lost his own set. But why would Mike let himself in and then cook? To the best of his knowledge, Mike didn’t even know how to cook.

“Mike?” he called out.

“Uh, no,” Kiersten replied. “It’s me.”

He tensed and walked slowly into his kitchen, his heart beating rapidly in his ears. “How did you get in here?”

She flushed. “I asked Mike for the key. Told him I needed something for Chris to practice at home.” She waved a hand. “He didn’t question me, thank God. My story was weak.”

He studied her. “Why are you here? You could have just knocked.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t let me in,” she said softly, averting her eyes. “So I took matters into my own hands.”

“And the dinner?”

“A way to try to make up for what I did. It’s pathetic and not big enough, I know, but I had to do something.”