Playing the Game: Playing the Game Duet Book 1

by Gina Drayer

  “I didn’t realize you knew how to dance,” I said, already out of breath and dizzy from just his touch.

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he said. “Like the fact I majored in English with a minor in Classic Literature.”

  “I knew that. I just didn’t think—”

  “Didn’t think what?” he snapped. “Didn’t think I actually earned my college degree? Don’t presume just because you looked me up online that really know me.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. “I’m sorry. I was trying to be clever. I didn’t realize how my words would be interpreted until Ben laughed.”

  “For the record, I am an ass.” He pulled me tight against his hard body and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “And even though this isn’t real, when we’re together in public, you belong to me. Stay away from Ben.”

  I should have been insulted by his words, but every part of my body was on fire, aching for his touch. I closed my eyes as we twirled around the floor, just trying to breathe. And of course, all I could smell was him.

  The music came to a stop. We both were breathing hard, the heat between us palpable. All it would take was a single spark to set either one of us off.

  “Ready to go back?” he asked.

  “Can we just stay here for a while?” It would be much safer at the table with his friends surrounding us, but I didn’t want to go back just yet. I wasn’t ready to let go.

  A long moment passed before his eyes met mine. Frustration, desire, anger all flashed in those intense blue eyes. It was clear he was fighting the same battle I was.

  “We can stay as long as you want.”

  True to his word, we danced for over an hour. When we finally went back to the table a lot of the earlier tension was gone. Whatever was going on between us worked itself out on the dancefloor. We spent another hour laughing with his friends. The light-hearted Cooper was back, and when we said our goodbyes, the tension from earlier was a distant memory.

  “Can I walk you to your door?” he asked when we reached my brownstone.

  The night had been lovely. But a bit too real. I needed to draw the line somewhere, or I wasn’t going to make it to the New Year with my heart intact.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, forcing a smile. “I can find my way.”

  I grabbed my purse and escaped the limo, but of course, he didn’t listen.

  “You dropped this,” he said, handing me my lucky stone.

  “Thanks.” My fingers brushed his as I took it back, lingering a little too long. “I should go.” I shoved the stone back in my purse and turned away.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, grabbing me by the elbow. “One minute I know you want this and the next, you’re pushing me away. So which is it?”

  I met his eyes and let out a deep sigh. I couldn’t explain myself without sounding like a crazy woman. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. I know you feel it too. The attraction. How can you ignore it?”

  That was a loaded question. I could deny my feelings, but what good would that do? Cooper saw right through me. “I, um… This, us…” He took a step towards me and my mouth went dry. “Wait.”

  “Wait for what? We’re adults.” He took another step and traced his fingers along my jaw. “What are you afraid of?”

  You. This. Losing my heart to a man that will never love me back. But I didn’t say any of that.

  “I admit, I’m attracted to you. But it doesn’t matter. There’s no future for us. We both know it.”

  I was hoping my words would discourage him, but a hint of a smile teased the corners of his mouth, and he closed the distance between us.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He buried his hand in my hair, causing the complicated updo to come tumbling down, and pressed his lips to mine without a hint of doubt or hesitation. Shocked, I gasped, and he took advantage and deepened the kiss. My gasps turned into a needy moan as a flash of heat ran up my spine. I’ve never felt this way about another man. I really didn’t expect to feel this way about him. He drove me crazy. I simultaneously wanted to slap him and drag him back to my room and tear his clothes off.

  He rocked his hard cock against my body, and that moan turned into a needy plea. My panties were drenched, and I hadn’t been this close to coming from a make-out session since I was a teen.

  Every time I touched him, I fell a little more. And when he breaks my heart—and he would break my heart—it was going to be my own fault for believing this was real.

  Cooper Reynolds was going to wreck me unless I stopped this right now.

  Gathering every last ounce of willpower I still possessed, I pushed him away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, confusion clouding his face.

  “I can’t,” I whispered, holding up a shaky hand. “I can’t do this. I’m not made like you. I need more than just attraction. Please, just stop.”

  “Calm down, Sweetheart,” he said, taking a step back. “Why don’t you just take a few deep breaths and calm down.”

  “Don’t call me Sweetheart,” I said, nearly hysterical. “I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Tears stung the back of my throat. Why did he have to kiss me? Why did I like it so much?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You never do,” I said. “Is this all a joke to you? How can you turn your feelings off so easily?”

  “Emily,” he said. “I don’t understand what I did to upset you, but I want to make it better. Just tell me what to do.”

  “Go home, Cooper,” I said. “Just go home.”

  I spun around, determined to leave before the tears started falling, but as I turned, the heel of my new shoes got caught in a crack. I stumbled forward, and my legs got tangled in the long skirt of my dress. Before I even realized what was happening, I was on the ground. My head bounced off the hard concrete stairs, and I heard a loud pop as pain shot up my ankle.

  “Dammit,” I said, tears freely streaming down my face now. “Dammit. Dammit.”

  “Fuck. Are you hurt?” Cooper was down on the ground by my side, his large hands on my thigh. “Let me help you up. That was a hard fall. Can you walk on it?”

  “I’m fine,” I said and gritted my teeth through the pain. But as soon as I stood up, the ankle gave way, and I fell back into his arms.

  “I think I’m going to puke.” I closed my eyes and took shallow breaths, trying to stave off the sudden nausea.

  “Hold on.”

  He eased me back to the ground and inched up my skirt to examine my ankle. I leaned my head forward and took shallow breaths.

  “This isn’t exactly how I thought I’d get under your dress tonight,” Cooper said with a grim chuckle.

  I laughed, but that just made my head hurt more. He flexed my ankle, and I swore again.

  “There’s a good chance your ankle is broken.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, weakly, but even I didn’t believe myself.

  “No, you’re not.” He pushed back a lock of my hair and swore. “Your ankle is already swelling, and the back of your head is bleeding. I’m taking you to the hospital. Don’t even try to argue with me.”

  All I wanted to do was go home and forget about tonight, forget about the kiss, but I obediently let Cooper tuck me back into the limo.

  Star New York

  Prince Charming to the Rescue

  Late yesterday, Cooper Reynolds was seen leaving the hospital carrying his new girlfriend, Emily Oliver. After dancing all night at a charity ball, Cooper is living up to his new title of New York’s Prince Charming.

  Emily suffered some kind of accident after the couple left, but Cooper stayed by her side and helped her to the back of their waiting limo. Their romance is turning out to be a real Cinderella tale.

  It’s unclear at this time the extent of her injuries. Cooper didn’t have any comments for the reporters, but a representa
tive from his agent’s office asked that the public respect Ms. Oliver’s privacy.

  19

  Emily

  This night was a complete disaster. The ankle was just the icing on the cake.

  This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen and hurt myself bad enough to go to the hospital. I could handle a broken bone. What I couldn’t handle was Cooper's hands on the bare skin of my leg, inching my dress up.

  It didn’t matter that his touch was comforting, not sexual. My skin still lit up like the Fourth of July and ached for more.

  I shouldn’t have let him kiss me. I was being duped by our own act, and the lines between the fantasy and reality were starting to blur in my head.

  “Does this help?” he asked, massaging my calf with his firm fingers. His rough palms kneading up my leg to my knee.

  A moan slipped out, and I bit my lips hard.

  “Sorry, baby. Are you in a lot of pain?” he asked in a soothing tone.

  “Yes,” I say on an exhale. Physically and mentally.

  Cooper swore under his breath and hit the intercom button. “How much longer until we’re at the hospital?”

  “Another ten minutes, sir.”

  With a low, frustrated growl, he scooped a handful of ice from the champagne bucket and pulled out his handkerchief to form a makeshift ice pack.

  “This should help a little,” he says and pressed the ice against my throbbing ankle.

  “Thank you,” I say, trying not to think about the pain. The ankle pain, of course. Not the other ache his touch was causing. I desperately need a distraction before I do something stupid—like try to kiss him again. “You seem to be pretty handy in an emergency. Were you a boy scout?”

  “I’ve played baseball all my life. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to make a run to the ER. Even though it’s not a full-contact sport, there are a lot of injuries. We even have a doctor that works for the team. He’s a really good doctor.” He pulled out his cell. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to call the team’s orthopedic surgeon and have him meet us. I don’t want just any doctor looking after you.”

  He was talking to the doctor before I could protest. After explaining what happened and telling the doctor which hospital we were headed to, Cooper hung up. I was sure the good doctor told him he was overreacting. It was just a sprain, maybe a simple break. I certainly didn’t need a surgeon.

  “Dr. Pete is going to meet us at the ER,” he says after putting away his phone. “He’s one of the best Orthos in town. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

  “I wasn’t worried.” I couldn’t keep the annoyance out of my voice. I wasn’t the kind of person who wanted someone to take care of everything. I’d looked after myself for so long, it felt like an intrusion. “While I appreciate everything you’re doing, this isn’t part of our agreement. Just drop me off at the Emergency Room, and I’ll call Tony to come pick me up. I can take care of myself.”

  He looked up from my ankle and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to leave you.”

  Even though I knew he was just talking about not leaving me at the hospital, my heart still sped up and tears stung the back of my throat. His words hit the mark.

  “I know that things got… intense back there,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “And we do need to talk about that, but right now, let’s focus on making sure you’re okay.”

  I nodded, unable to find my voice, and turned away from his intense stare.

  We rode the rest of the way to the ER in silence. And despite my protests, Cooper insisted on carrying me into the waiting room.

  “Emily?” a young nurse at the registration desk asked. “Doctor Pete Selding called to let us know you were on your way. We have a room ready for you.”

  The waiting room was packed with people, including several kids.

  “I didn’t know you could make reservations at the ER,” I say, embarrassed. “All these people were here before me. I’ll wait my turn.”

  Cooper ignored my request and followed the nurse through the doors.

  “Wait.” I turned to look at him, imploring. “I’m serious, Cooper. I don’t want special treatment. It’s just my ankle—”

  “And a head injury,” he says, interrupting.

  “I’m not dying. Someone out there might be.”

  Ahead of us, the nurse held open a door. “We triage everyone who comes through the door. No one out there is dying,” she says. “And I promise you, you’re not taking anyone’s place in line. Your own doctor will be treating you. We’re just giving him a room to see you.”

  “Satisfied?” Cooper asked as he sat me down gently on the bed.

  “Besides,” the nurse says, pulling out a blood pressure cuff, “having Cooper Reynolds out in the waiting room would present us with its own set of issues.”

  “I’m sure several people saw us coming in,” Cooper says. “It’s just a matter of time before the press arrives.”

  Sighing, I held out my arm. I knew they were right, but I wasn’t happy about it. The last time I was in the Emergency Room with one of my residents and her sick baby, we had to wait four hours before we were even seen. This time, even with x-rays, the doctor was ready to discharge me in less than two hours.

  “Partial weight-bearing for a week,” Doctor Pete says while scribbling on his clipboard. “I put you in a brace as a precaution, so you don’t exacerbate the injury. You can follow up on Friday, and we’ll take it off.” He handed me a card with a Manhattan address and turned to Cooper. “The head wound was just superficial. I saw no signs of a concussion, but you should keep an eye on her tonight.”

  “We’re not… We don’t live together.”

  “Come back right away if there’s any vomiting or intractable pain,” he continued, coming around to my side. “You’re going to be sore, but this should help you sleep.”

  “What? No. Really, I don’t need anything.”

  “There’s no need to tough it out,” he says with a gentle pat on my shoulder.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your concern, but— Ouch!” I was just about to explain my intolerance to most pain medication, but before I could get a word out, the syringe was in my arm. Shit. Please don’t let it be an opioid. “What did you give me?”

  “A low dose of Dilaudid. Just enough to take the edge off. I’m sending you home with a prescription. Take as needed.” He handed a stack of papers to Cooper. “You two are all set. You have my number if you need anything.”

  Dilaudid. Crap. Hopefully, I can make it home before I say or do something I’ll regret. The last time I took pain medication, I did a bunch of online shopping I didn’t remember, including purchasing thirty-seven Blu-ray copies of Thor. A classic, for sure, but I really didn’t need thirty-seven.

  “I bought a set of crutches, but hospital rules dictate that you have to leave in a wheelchair.” I tried to get up, but the nurse stopped me. “Stay put, and I’ll help you.”

  “I can get her,” Cooper says.

  “Sorry, I can’t let you do that. Hospital policy.”

  By the time the nurse came around the bed with a wheelchair, the painkiller was going strong. My limbs were heavy, and I had this urge to sing Wind Beneath My Wings as she assisted me off the bed.

  Thankfully, I managed to hold my tongue, but I may have hummed a few bars. Cooper hovered close by, pacing as she helped raise my leg. I was actually surprised that he didn’t insist on carrying me out, hospital policy be damned.

  But as soon as we pushed through the Emergency Room doors, I realized why.

  20

  Cooper

  Fucking vultures. Every last one of them. There were at least four photographers and a few bystanders filming with their phones when we left the hospital.

  A man in a black jacket appeared from around the corner just a few feet away and started snapping pictures.

  “What happened to your date? Was there an accident? Were you drinking?”

  The flash went off several mor
e times as the man continued to shout questions at them.

  “I’m not wearing any shoes,” Emily said and covered her face.

  Even though that was an odd thing to be upset about, I hated that she was uncomfortable at all. The limo was still several yards away, and we’d have to wade through the crowd to get to it.

  “Screw it,” I say under my breath. If they wanted a story, I’d give them a story. I bent over and lifted her out of the chair. “Put your arms around my neck, and hold on tight.”

  With her head buried in the crook of my neck, I headed straight towards the crowd that had gathered. I didn’t acknowledge a single one of them. My sole focus was on getting Emily to the safety of the limo.

  “I don’t have any shoes on,” she repeated.

  “We left them in the car. Remember? You can have them back as soon as we’re inside.”

  The driver spotted us and opened the door. As quickly and gently as I could, I eased Emily into the back seat and joined her while blocking out the flurry of flashing bulbs. Hopefully, none of those assholes follow us, but just in case, I tell the driver to take the long way back to her house—and to add a few detours for good measure.

  While I was giving the driver instructions, Emily leaned over to retrieve her shoes and almost fell onto the floorboard. I caught her around the waist and pulled her onto my lap, expecting her to protest or at the very least complain a little. But she just sighed and leaned back against my chest, clutching the broken shoe.

  “What’s up with the shoes?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

  “It’s part of the story,” she says as if that explained everything. When I didn’t respond, she huffed and counted off with her fingers. “A commoner. A prince. A ball. A lost shoe. Don’t you see? We’re in a fairytale.”

  I finally caught up to her and laughed. “Ah. Sorry to break it to you, but I’m no Prince Charming.”