Play With Me (Playing for Keeps #2)



It’s a quiet ride to the restaurant, Mom, Olivia, and Hank discussing how beautiful I was on stage. Carter keeps opening his mouth before second-guessing, which is probably for the best. Ninety-nine percent of the words that come out of his mouth are the wrong ones anyway.

When everyone exits the car, I slip one dress off in favor of another, right here in the front seat while Carter hands his keys over to the valet.

He takes my hand, helping me out and pulling me into his side for a hug. “You look beautiful, Jennie.” He kisses my temple. “And you kicked ass on stage. I’m proud of you.”

A sassy eight-year-old attaches herself to my torso as the hostess leads us to our table. “You rock, like, so hard, Auntie J.” Alannah’s not really my niece; she’s Carter and Olivia’s. But I love being Auntie J, and I think she’s the coolest kid out there. “If I wasn’t already a kick-ass hockey player, I’d be a dancer.”

“You could do both,” I suggest weakly. “Maybe you can be my first dancer when I open my studio.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Uncle Carter says you’re moving to Toronto to be a dancer.”

“I don’t know what I’m do…ing…” My train of thought derails when I spy the blond-haired giant of a man already seated at our table, anxiously drumming his fingers on the white tablecloth, and I trip over my own feet, bouncing off Olivia’s small frame.

Olivia’s gaze moves between me and Garrett as we stare at each other. She doesn’t say a word, but I her face softens before she pulls out the seat next to him, gesturing for me to sit.

“Oh, I…I should—”

Cara grips my shoulder, shoving me down. “You should sit.”

“Hold on.” Jaxon hauls me back up. “You didn’t take your coat off.” He slips it over my shoulders, fingertips trailing down my arms as he peels off my coat. He looks directly at Garrett, smirking as he does it. “Stunning,” he murmurs with a whistle. “Right, Andersen?”

Carter’s face appears between us. “Did you just whistle at my sister?”

Jaxon’s face drains of color. He shoves my coat into Carter’s chest. “No.”

“Great.” Carter takes the seat beside me, and now I’m stuck between my brother and the man I…I…I truly don’t know how to finish that sentence.

Well, that’s a lie. I know how to finish it. I just refuse to, now that I…we…now that we…

“You look like you’re gonna cry.”

“Huh?” My head snaps, finding Carter examining me. “No.” Oh fuck. I’m totally gonna cry. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“That happens to me sometimes when I play too hard on the ice, Auntie J,” Alannah pipes up. “It usually goes away with food, but sometimes I need a long nap.”

I struggle to smile back from across the table while feeling the weight of Garrett’s gaze on me, or rather, the hand I lay in my lap, face up. It’s bright red and still stinging with pain from the force of my slap. I prod at the pads below each finger, each one slightly swollen. While Alannah continues, I briefly consider submerging my entire hand in the bucket of ice the bottles of champagne and sparkling water sit in.

“Uncle Carter probably needs a big meal and a nap too. He looked pretty angry when that guy kissed you, and he’s always happier after he eats and naps with Auntie Ollie. He gave me twenty dollars after he was done with the video camera though.”

Jeremy, Alannah’s dad and Olivia’s brother, barks a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Uncle Carter crushed the video camera between his hands.”

“I didn’t crush it, per se,” Carter argues weakly.

“Oh, my apologies. You shouted out a string of expletives and then finished with, ‘God-fucking-damnit, I broke the camera.’”

“So I’ll edit that last bit out. No big deal.”

“Do you know anything about editing video footage, Carter?” Adam asks.

He props his cheek against his fist and frowns. “I’ll pay someone. Might be able to edit S-T-E-V-E right out.”

“I’m not a dog, Carter,” I finally interject. “You can’t spell his name and expect me not to be able to string the letters together, the way you do with Dublin and the word walk.”

Carter mutters something about Dublin being more pleasant than me, and as everyone breaks into conversation, I tune it all out, concentrating instead on the loneliness that’s come roaring back into my life.

I thought I was alone before, but it was Garrett who showed me I wasn’t, that I was surrounded by people who loved me, who wanted to share a space with me.

But as I look around the table, all I see is a space I don’t belong in. Couples in love. Friends with more connections. Where do I fit in? I thought this was the one place I did belong, here with these people, but now I’m just not sure.

My heart begs me to argue with my brain, but I don’t have the energy. Not today, not anymore, and every inch of my body aches as it curls in on itself, begging for solitude, which is ironic; I don’t want to be alone anymore. But I don’t want to be lost either.

A clinking sound draws my attention, and I watch curiously as Garrett scoops his ice from his unused glass, wrapping it in the cloth napkin from his lap. Turquoise eyes meet mine, and he takes my hand in his beneath the table, pressing the covered ice to it, curling my fingers around it.

My sore skin is instantly soothed, and for a moment, Garrett squeezes a bit harder, his palm warm on the back of my hand before he releases me. He reaches for a bottle of sparkling water, filling my glass and his before passing it around the table.

I watch as he brings his glass to his plush lips before laying both hands back in his lap, and God, I want to touch him. So badly, I want his hands on me. I want that full, safe feeling that comes with having my fingers laced through his.

I’m not ready to give up; I don’t care if that makes me na?ve. What we have, it’s not something you simply let go. I don’t have much experience with relationships, but this feels like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.

How many times can I tell myself I’m tired of being scared? That all I want to do is close my eyes and jump? Except I don’t need to close my eyes with Garrett. I’ve always been sure of who he is, what he means to me.

My hand moves on its own accord, inching toward his below the tablecloth. He spreads his fingers a little wider, like his pinky is reaching for mine, and I know that whatever has happened, we can work through it together.

“Excuse me. Garrett, right?”

My eyes lift to the raven-haired beauty hovering at the edge of the table, grinning at Garrett. I pull my hand back as the table quiets, every head turning in their direction.

The woman lays a hand at the base of her throat. “Susie. I was the—”

“Oh!” Carter snaps his fingers. “You’re the photographer! From the photoshoot for the suits. The hockey butts!” He cocks a smug brow. “My name is Carter Beckett, and I have a hockey butt.”

Susie giggles. “Yeah, that’s me. You guys were the most fun I’ve ever had at work before.” Her eyes move over me and widen. “And oh my gosh, hey! You’re that dancer! I just photographed your show! You were amazing! I got tons of great shots, and that kiss at the end?” She lays her hands over her heart. “Total swoon. You could really feel the love between you two.” With a shy smile, she turns to Garrett, and my stomach flip-flops, making me nauseous. “I was kinda bummed out not to hear from you.”

“Oh, I…” Garrett’s cheeks flame, eyes bouncing around the table. The only face he avoids is mine.

“He’s seeing someone,” Carter pipes up. “Or not anymore?” He scratches his head, frowning. “You haven’t mentioned her in a while.”

“I was,” Garrett replies slowly, and I watch his fists ball as my throat closes.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Susie says. “Maybe we could go out one night?”

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