Game Player

by B. J. Harvey

  “Nat!” I admonish. “He’s my brother-in-law . . . sorta.”

  “Yeah, he’s also the biggest player in town. You kissing him means you’ve kissed most of the female population in Chicago.”

  “Eww. I don’t wanna think about that.” In fact, I don’t want to think about any other skank having her mouth anywhere near him. Who am I kidding? Half of my friends and their friends have at least rounded a few bases with him.

  “Bet you are now though . . .” she teases. “After having that pork sword anywhere near you, you’d need a vaginal steam clean.”

  “What?”

  “I read this thing the other day where you can get your fish taco heat treated.”

  “What do they do? Sterilize it like medical equipment?”

  “I thought that you could set up a two-for-one salon. Get the top and bottom special, nails and vagina wash in one visit.”

  “Can you imagine the job advert? Wanted—a beauty therapist experienced in facials, massage, nails and pussy puffing.” We both start laughing, and I’m unable to stop the tears pouring down my face. Now all I can see is a giant vacuum cleaner nozzle shooting steam up my snatch. “Was there a point to this call?” I ask, when I finally stop cackling.

  “Not really. Just felt like calling you up and giving you shit.”

  I laugh at that, because it’s totally true. Nat is the sort of friend who rings you from the toilet while she’s doing her thing just so she can gross you out. Weirdly, it’s one of the things I love most about her. She doesn’t fuck around. If she wants to say something, she says it. If she wants to do something, she just does it.

  She doesn’t have older brothers and older sisters to answer to like I do, and doesn’t have the weight of expectation on her shoulders that I feel when it comes to living up to the success of my siblings.

  That is what I do now—I look after Zoe and Noah’s little boy, Nate, four days a week while his parents work. Noah is a surgeon; Zoe is head of the radiology department at the same hospital. While they both love their jobs, they wanted someone they knew and trusted to stay home with their son—my nephew—and who better than Aunty Mia? The best thing about it is I get my weekends off.

  I came to Chicago—the most recent time—just over two years ago, straight after Noah and Zoe’s wedding, moving into a small one bedroom loft apartment near Zander and Kate’s brownstone. I’ve always liked my space and having grown up in a house of six people, I really like having my own place. There’s no one to answer to, no one to bitch at you if you leave the dishes for a night.

  “So what are you going to do about Mr. Cut ‘n’ Run?”

  “Nat!”

  “Well?”

  “Nothing. I won’t mention it. He probably moved on to another club and found someone he actually wanted to bang, rather than the bunny boiler I saved him from. It’ll be fine.”

  “So Kissgate never happened?”

  “Kissgate?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say with a smile, and she just giggles in my ear before saying goodbye and ending the call.

  I put the phone down and stare at the ceiling for five minutes while my brain relives—yet again—how it felt to have Matt touch me. It had been two years between make-outs and if anything, he’d gotten better at it—and he was spectacular before.

  Shaking my head, I roll out of bed and head toward the bathroom, chanting to myself that it was just a friend helping another friend out. Call it my random kiss of kindness.

  Yep. Definitely.

  I’ll just forget it ever happened.

  Easy . . . right?

  A week after ‘Kissgate’ I park my car outside of Noah and Zoe’s huge townhouse and make my way inside, my arms laden with an exorbitant amount of wrapped packages for my nephew’s first birthday. There is a bunch of blue balloons tied to the letterbox with more leading up the path to the front door, which is thankfully open.

  Just as I’m about to drop everything all over their front lawn, a deep familiar voice calls my name behind me. “Mia, hey.”

  I stop and turn around to see Cade Carsen and his gorgeous grin walking toward me.

  Cade is one of Noah’s best friends, which means for the past few years we’ve seen a lot of each other at barbecues and parties at my sister’s house. He’s thirty-one, with dark brown hair, amazing wide shoulders and toned arms—total eye candy. He’s a doctor, like Noah, except he works in the E.R. instead of doing surgery. He looked great in scrubs the last time I saw him at the hospital, amazing in a pair of swimming shorts, and—according to Zoe—he didn’t hold back in asking her for my number last week before telling Noah straight out that he wanted to take me out on a date.

  Zoe called me as soon as Cade had left their house to let me know he’d be calling, and she’d gushed over his good attributes while Noah made fake gagging noises in the background, making the two of us giggle uncontrollably. I’d been in shock as well as being flattered at Cade’s interest because, in all honesty, I had no idea he even thought of me like that. He hadn’t called yet though.

  “Let me grab some of those for you before you lose them,” he says, his hands reaching out and grabbing the gifts out of my arms.

  “Thanks. How have you been?” I ask.

  “Good, I’ve been meaning to call you actually.”

  “Oh?” I reply lightly, masking the fact that my heart is actually racing.

  This is one of my favorite parts. When a hot guy has the confidence to go for what he wants. No beating around the bush, no awkward umming and ahhing, just asking a woman straight out whether she wants to go out with him.

  His smile brightens and his eyes twinkle with amusement, letting me know he can see right through me. “Zoe told you didn’t she?”

  Deciding to give up the ghost, I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, doctor.”

  “Zoe definitely called you. So is that a yes then?”

  “Hey now, buddy. I don’t agree to anything without knowing what I’m agreeing to.”

  “See, I knew you were clever,” he says. “What I’d love you to do is agree to a dinner date with me on my next weekend off.”

  I bite my lip and keep him waiting, waiting for his super confident smile to waver just a little bit before putting him out of his misery. “I’d love to.”

  He smirks and shakes his head. “You’re trouble.”

  “And at dinner, you’ll find out exactly how much,” I reply coyly. “I should really go inside, I’m already running late.”

  “After you . . .” he muses. I walk on ahead and I’m not foolish enough to think he’s not checking out my ass but I’m smart enough not to look back and check.

  I dump the presents on the dining room table and walk into the kitchen to find Zoe with her ass planted on the island in the middle of the room and Noah firmly wedged between her legs—thankfully, clothed.

  “Jesus, you two. It’s your son’s birthday party.”

  “So?” Noah replies, looking over his shoulder at me, his voice full of amusement.

  “At least we’re clothed this time,” Zoe adds.

  “And that’s an image that is forever etched in my brain. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “You’re welcome.” She giggles and Noah groans.

  “You gotta stop laughing while certain body parts are touching you, sweetheart.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “Jeez, get a room, you two. You do know that anyone could walk in. Like any of Nate’s grandparents. And I bet they won’t want to see the making of WD version three-point-oh in person.”

  “God, Meems. Eww,” Zoe says with a sigh, but thankfully they separate. Zoe jumps off the counter and straightens her skirt.

  “You’re late. Everything okay?” she asks me.

  I walk to the refrigerator and pull out a can of soda before turning to face them. “Yeah, I didn’t count on there being traffic tod
ay, or half of Chicago parking in your street.”

  “Seems Daddy here got a bit overzealous when sending out invitations.”

  “I sent out the invitations. How can there be too many people?” I ask incredulously.

  “I only invited a few extras, not many . . .” Noah pipes up.

  “You put a flyer up on the surgical floor,” Zoe says.

  “You put it up on the radiology noticeboard; I figured we were even.” Noah kisses Zoe’s forehead before grabbing two bags of chips from the counter and disappearing from sight.

  “Who’s here?” I ask my sister, who returns to the task of pushing birthday candles into the number-one cake we made together yesterday.

  I organized the party stuff on Noah and Zoe’s behalf earlier in the week, volunteering to help Zo out. From catering to invitations—right down to the bouncy castle in the backyard—I’d done it all. There’s something to be said about having a baby nephew to spoil, and when Noah gave me open slather on everything birthday related, I wasn’t going to do a half-assed job of it.

  “The place looks great, Meems.” Zoe puts down the packet of candles in her hand and reaches over to me, placing her hand on my forearm. “I really appreciate you organizing everything.”

  “I know. I had to make sure Nate knew who the awesome aunty is.”

  “I heard that, Mia. You do know I’m his aunty too,” my younger sister, Danika, announces from the doorway, with Zander and Kate’s daughter, Rose, on her hip.

  “I said awesome aunty. You’re just the cool one. But he loves me. I’m totally his favorite.” I walk toward her and steal Rose from her arms. “You think so too, don’t you baby girl?” I tell her, pulling her in close. “Hey, Dan.” I lean in and kiss my sister’s cheek.

  “You’re funny, Meemee,” Rose says, in her gorgeous baby voice.

  “And you’re my gorgeous girl, aren’t you?”

  She just giggles and burrows deeper into me.

  “Aunty Zowey, Daddy wants cake,” Rose announces gleefully.

  “Oh does he now . . . ?” Zoe says, moving close to give Rose a playful tickle. “Are you sure it’s not my favorite girl who wants some?”

  “Mayyybbbeee,” Rose replies cheerfully.

  “Then let’s go give Nate his birthday cake, shall we?” Zoe says, as Danika steps forward and lifts the cake stand.

  “Are you gonna help blow out the candles?” I ask Rose and she nods enthusiastically, her headful of flame red curls bouncing wildly.

  “Well, look what we have here. A welcoming committee of Roberts girls—aren’t I a lucky guy?” A familiar deep voice says from the doorway and, unable to control my reaction, my head jerks toward the sound.

  “Matt! You’re late! What is it with aunties and uncles being late to their only nephew’s birthday today? Anyone would think you guys actually had lives,” Zoe announces.

  “Sorry, I got waylaid this morning,” Matt replies.

  “Waylaid . . . or well laid?” Danika asks, and I hold my breath waiting for his reply.

  His eyes move to meet mine, and I catch the hint of a smirk on his lips as he scans me top to toe and back again before answering my sister’s smartass question. “Something like that.”

  Suddenly flustered and uneasy, I give Rose a squeeze. “I think we should do that,” I say absentmindedly. I catch a flash of amusement in Matt’s gorgeous green eyes and realize what I just said and how it sounded. “Cake. I meant cake. Let’s do cake.”

  “Cake!” Rose squeals, and I quickly look away from the distracting man in front of me, fixing my eyes to the wall past his shoulder and trying to move by him.

  “We should totally do that,” he murmurs next to my ear and I fight the urge to jump. My eyes widen just as I hear Rose announce. “Yes, do it, Meemee. Do it.”

  I growl under my breath and walk down the hallway leading to the backyard, trying hard to ignore Matt’s chuckles behind me. Stupid, sexy smartass.

  “Mia!”

  I hear my name the moment I walk through the back door, and Mom rushes toward me.

  “Hey Mom,” I reply, as I wrap one arm around her shoulders and give a loving squeeze. Due to my mom still living in Indiana, we don’t get to see her as much as we’d like. But she’s happy there and she’s even started dating again, which drove Zander crazy at first, but he’s grown to accept it.

  “Grandma,” Rose says, just as she takes an arms outstretched nosedive toward my mother who, thankfully and expertly, catches her without missing a beat. “It’s cake time!”

  “Should we go get Nate then?”

  “Yes, Nate!” my niece shouts before Mom walks away in search of the now mobile Nate. This means he could be anywhere, and a quick scan of the backyard finds him on top of Noah’s shoulders in a man huddle with Zander, his best friend Zach, and their friends Daniel and Sean. A quick glance at the bouncy castle finds a gaggle of children belonging to said men.

  I walk over toward the large outdoor table on the patio and see the female half of the group. There’s Mac, Kate, Sam, the wife of Sean—and a few other of Zoe’s friends I recognize from the hospital.

  I hear a round of greetings for Matt behind me but push forward. I’m desperately trying to ignore the urge to sneak a peek back at him in those far too well-fitting jeans of his and the blue tee that clings to his chest in the exact same way my legs want to hug his face.

  Taking a seat, I’m snapped out of my daydream by Kate leaning over the table to give me a hug. “I see my daughter commandeered you,” she says, sitting back in her chair.

  “Yep,” I say, “then dropped me like a two-dollar whore the minute she saw grandma.”

  Sam spits out her drink. “Jesus, Mia. There are children nearby.” Sam’s a cop like Zander—that’s when she’s not busy with her children. Considering her and Sean now have Megan, four, Thomas, two, and little Alexandra who was born two months ago, she’s always busy with a baby.

  “Your daughter is a baby. She can smile and nod, and that’s it. I mean no disrespect because well, you’re a cop and could make my life difficult, but she can’t hear shit.”

  “She has a point,” Mac agrees. “Besides, you totally lost your shit on the phone with me last week when Megan found your brown leather crop and was riding her brother like a horse with it.”

  “Oh my god, that girl is awesome. She’ll be taking over Daddy’s club in no time.” As well as being a lawyer, Sean is also the owner of one of the hottest nightclubs in Chicago. It also happens to have a sex club upstairs—hence why daddy has a crop at home.

  “Her father didn’t see the funny side to it,” Sam adds.

  “He wouldn’t,” Mac agrees, before turning her eyes to me. “You’re drinking soda?”

  Mac is married to Daniel, aka Superman. It’s a long story that involves Daniel having a likeness to Clark Kent, only he’s much hotter. The name kind of stuck. Together, they have three kids—six-year-old twins Riley and Jared, and three-year-old Mason.

  “Figured I should wait until at least after the birthday cake before hitting the wine.”

  “You??” Danika asks sarcastically as she comes up beside me, placing the cake in the middle of the table in front of us.

  “It’s a birthday party, Dani, not a fucking kegger. Sheesh, young people these days,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll, which earns a round of laughs.

  “Ironic coming from you. Anyway, it’s time for cake,” she says, before letting rip with a loud wolf whistle, calling attention to herself. “Noah, get your hand off my sister’s ass and bring your son over here,” she yells. My sister, always the smartass.

  As if I can sense him, I look over toward the guys as they walk up to the table, and my gaze connects with Matt’s. He quirks a brow at me, and that irresistible grin of his makes an appearance, making me want to jump him and throttle him in the same breath.

  How is it that a man-whore like himself can make me feel so many different things at once? I’d successfully put him out of my mind—and carn
al thoughts—for two years, and one kiss, and he’s my own personal sexual muse again.

  Once the candles are lit, my mom starts everyone off with a round of Happy Birthday and soon, Zoe cries into Noah’s neck and Nate smushes his baby face with blue-colored frosting, spreading it from asshole to breakfast.

  A few hours later, most of Noah and Zoe’s friends and colleagues have gone home except the close circle of Mac, Daniel, Kate, Zander, Danika, and Matt. Sam and Sean had to go because of the baby and since they have no close family nearby except Sean’s brother, Ryan, they don’t have the luxury of grandparents as babysitters like the rest of the parents in the group.

  I was scared Sean might’ve seen me at the club last night or—worse still—told Noah and Zoe that he saw me attempt to climb Matt like a dog in heat, but he didn’t say a thing. I did catch him giving me a curious look, but when I raised an eyebrow at him in silent question, he just shook his head and turned away.

  “So, Matt, how did you get on last night? Did you find a warm and willing female you haven’t slept with yet?” Noah asks, lifting a bottle of beer to his mouth and taking a swig.

  “Stayed in,” Matt says gruffly, his voice laced with an indiscernible tone I can’t read. My head snaps up to look across the table to where he’s sitting, and I catch his brows narrowed in Noah’s direction.

  “Losing your touch there, Matt. Has the scratch ‘n’ sniff technique done its dash?”

  Then I see the Matt I’ve come to know—and expect—make an appearance, his shoulders pulled back, his chest puffed out and that sexy know-it-all smirk on his lips. “Nah, man. Worked a twelve-hour-day on site so decided to just watch Netflix and order in.”

  Zoe giggles and everyone’s eyes turn to her. She holds her hand up as she struggles to compose herself. “We all know what Netflix and takeout mean. Don’t we, Matt?”

  Now the rest of the group laughs bar Matt and myself, mainly because my eyes snap back to Matt who is now downing his drink and grumbling under his breath. He looks almost offended, which is totally unlike the cocky man we all know.