Beautiful Player
Page 12
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“She’s Jensen’s youngest sister,” I explained to Sara and Bennett.
“He snogged the older sister when they were teens,” Max added helpfully, overplaying his accent for dramatic effect.
“You are such a shit-stirrer,” I said, laughing. Liv was a short blip; I could barely remember much about what had happened other than some heated kissing and then my easy evasion when I’d returned to New Haven. Compared to some of my relationships at the time, what happened with Liv barely registered on the sex meter.
Our entrées came and we ate in silence for a little bit. My mind started to wander. Partway through our run, I’d given up and just outright stared at Ziggy. I stared at her cheeks, at her lips, at the soft hair that had fallen free from her messy bun and lay straight against the soft skin of her neck. I’d always been open about my appreciation for women, but I wasn’t attracted to every woman I saw. So what was it about this one? She was pretty but definitely not the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. She was seven years younger than I was, green as an apple, and barely came up from her work to breathe. What could she possibly offer me that I couldn’t find somewhere else?
She’d looked over and caught me; the energy between us was palpable, and confusing as f**k. And when she smiled, it lit up her whole face. She looked as open as a screen door in the summer, and despite the temperature, something warmed in my veins. It was an old, yet familiar hunger. A desire I hadn’t felt in forever, where my blood filled with adrenaline and I wanted to be the only one to discover a particular girl’s secrets. Ziggy’s skin looked sweet; her lips were full and soft, her neck looked like it had never been marked with teeth or suction. The beast in me wanted to look more closely at her hands, at her mouth, at her br**sts.
I looked up when I felt Max watching me, chewing thoughtfully.
He lifted his fork, pointed it at my chest. “All it takes is one night with the right girl. I’m not talking about sex, either. One night could change you, young m—”
“Oh, stop,” I groaned. “You’re such a f**king ass**le right now.”
Bennett straightened, joining in. “It’s about finding the woman who gets you thinking. She’ll be the one who’ll change your mind about everything.”
I held up my hands. “It’s a nice thought, you guys. But Ziggy really isn’t my type.”
“What’s your type? Walks? Has a pu**y?” Max asked.
I laughed. “I guess she just feels young?”
The guys hummed and nodded in understanding, but I could feel Sara watching me. “Out with it,” I said to her.
“Well, I’m just thinking you haven’t found anyone who makes you want to delve deeper. You’re choosing a certain type of woman, a type you know will fit into your structure, your rules, your limits. Aren’t you bored yet? You’re saying this sister—”
“Ziggy,” Max offered.
“Right,” she said. “You’re saying Ziggy isn’t your type, but last week you said you were feeling detached from the women who happily screw you without strings attached.” She forked a bite of her lunch and shrugged as she started to lift it to her mouth. “Maybe you should reevaluate your type.”
“Illogical. I can be losing interest in my lovers and it doesn’t have to mean that I need to overhaul the whole system.” I continued to poke at my food. “Though actually, I do have a favor to ask.”
Sara swallowed, nodding. “Of course.”
“I was hoping maybe you and Chloe could take her out? She doesn’t have any real girlfriends here and you guys—”
“Of course,” she said again quickly. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
I glanced at Max from the corner of my eye, unsurprised to see him biting his lip and looking like the cat that had caught the canary. But Sara must have picked up a thing or two from Chloe and had him by the balls beneath the table, because, for once, he was uncharacteristically quiet.
Do you ever feel like the people who mean the most aren’t the people you see the most? Lately I just feel like I’m not putting my heart where it matters.
Her voice and wide, honest eyes when she’d said this had made me feel full and hollow all at once, like the ache was so heavy I couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure.
Ziggy wanted me to show her how to get out and date, how to meet people she wanted to get to know . . . and the reality was I wasn’t even doing that myself. I might not be the one sitting in my apartment alone, but that didn’t mean I was happy.
“He snogged the older sister when they were teens,” Max added helpfully, overplaying his accent for dramatic effect.
“You are such a shit-stirrer,” I said, laughing. Liv was a short blip; I could barely remember much about what had happened other than some heated kissing and then my easy evasion when I’d returned to New Haven. Compared to some of my relationships at the time, what happened with Liv barely registered on the sex meter.
Our entrées came and we ate in silence for a little bit. My mind started to wander. Partway through our run, I’d given up and just outright stared at Ziggy. I stared at her cheeks, at her lips, at the soft hair that had fallen free from her messy bun and lay straight against the soft skin of her neck. I’d always been open about my appreciation for women, but I wasn’t attracted to every woman I saw. So what was it about this one? She was pretty but definitely not the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. She was seven years younger than I was, green as an apple, and barely came up from her work to breathe. What could she possibly offer me that I couldn’t find somewhere else?
She’d looked over and caught me; the energy between us was palpable, and confusing as f**k. And when she smiled, it lit up her whole face. She looked as open as a screen door in the summer, and despite the temperature, something warmed in my veins. It was an old, yet familiar hunger. A desire I hadn’t felt in forever, where my blood filled with adrenaline and I wanted to be the only one to discover a particular girl’s secrets. Ziggy’s skin looked sweet; her lips were full and soft, her neck looked like it had never been marked with teeth or suction. The beast in me wanted to look more closely at her hands, at her mouth, at her br**sts.
I looked up when I felt Max watching me, chewing thoughtfully.
He lifted his fork, pointed it at my chest. “All it takes is one night with the right girl. I’m not talking about sex, either. One night could change you, young m—”
“Oh, stop,” I groaned. “You’re such a f**king ass**le right now.”
Bennett straightened, joining in. “It’s about finding the woman who gets you thinking. She’ll be the one who’ll change your mind about everything.”
I held up my hands. “It’s a nice thought, you guys. But Ziggy really isn’t my type.”
“What’s your type? Walks? Has a pu**y?” Max asked.
I laughed. “I guess she just feels young?”
The guys hummed and nodded in understanding, but I could feel Sara watching me. “Out with it,” I said to her.
“Well, I’m just thinking you haven’t found anyone who makes you want to delve deeper. You’re choosing a certain type of woman, a type you know will fit into your structure, your rules, your limits. Aren’t you bored yet? You’re saying this sister—”
“Ziggy,” Max offered.
“Right,” she said. “You’re saying Ziggy isn’t your type, but last week you said you were feeling detached from the women who happily screw you without strings attached.” She forked a bite of her lunch and shrugged as she started to lift it to her mouth. “Maybe you should reevaluate your type.”
“Illogical. I can be losing interest in my lovers and it doesn’t have to mean that I need to overhaul the whole system.” I continued to poke at my food. “Though actually, I do have a favor to ask.”
Sara swallowed, nodding. “Of course.”
“I was hoping maybe you and Chloe could take her out? She doesn’t have any real girlfriends here and you guys—”
“Of course,” she said again quickly. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
I glanced at Max from the corner of my eye, unsurprised to see him biting his lip and looking like the cat that had caught the canary. But Sara must have picked up a thing or two from Chloe and had him by the balls beneath the table, because, for once, he was uncharacteristically quiet.
Do you ever feel like the people who mean the most aren’t the people you see the most? Lately I just feel like I’m not putting my heart where it matters.
Her voice and wide, honest eyes when she’d said this had made me feel full and hollow all at once, like the ache was so heavy I couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure.
Ziggy wanted me to show her how to get out and date, how to meet people she wanted to get to know . . . and the reality was I wasn’t even doing that myself. I might not be the one sitting in my apartment alone, but that didn’t mean I was happy.
