Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy(81)

He grins at that. “You threw yourself a surprise party?”

“Well, I tried,” I answer through a giggle. “But Billie and I had been so focused on inviting everyone, we forgot about the food and cake and, you know, all the other things that go with a party.”

An amused chuckle escapes his lungs. “What did your granny do?”

“After she reamed our asses, she found a way to feed everyone at the party. Even managed to get someone to run to the bakery last minute and get me a cake.” I share one of my fondest, funniest memories of her.

“So, you ended up with your party anyway?”

“Well, sort of.” I shrug. “I mean, I never got to experience the actual surprise part since I was involved in planning the damn thing, but yeah, it was still a good party.”

“Did you ever end up getting a real surprise party?”

“Nope.” I force a pout on lips. “Pretty sure Billie and I were too afraid to push that issue again after our granny had to feed over fifty people on the fly.”

“Poor, teenage Birdie.”

“I know, right?” I push out a dramatic sigh. “My biggest teenage dream never actually came to fruition.”

“Maybe one day,” he says and reaches out to slide his fingers into my hair. “Though now probably isn’t the right time to tell you this, but teenage Andrew did get to experience a real surprise party.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously?”

He nods. “For my sixteenth birthday. My mom and dad threw one for me with all my friends. Although, my uncle Tim made quite the showing. That bastard ended up sneaking in beer, and my parents caught him and me and my brother Lance and a bunch of my buddies playing beer pong in the garage.”

I quirk an amused brow. “Your uncle Tim sounds like a character.”

“You have no idea,” he responds on a laugh. “He’s a fucking wild card. You never know what you’re going to get with him. He’s my dad’s brother and the biggest thorn in my mom’s side. No doubt, I have stories for days about that man.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You really want to hear more about my crazy uncle Tim?”

“Uh…yeah,” I drawl, and Andrew smiles over at me.

“All right, but only if you’re willing to exchange a few more stories about your ballbusting granny.”

I don’t hesitate to agree to his demands.

And for the next hour or so, before sleep consumes us, we stay just like that, lying in bed, sharing stories about our families. It’s a sweet, quiet kind of fun that I didn’t know was possible with a man like him.

Somehow, he just keeps surprising me with new facets of his personality, none of which revolve around my initial impression of him being a huge asshole.

In fact, they’re the complete opposite.





Andrew



There’s only one woman I want in my bed right now.

After a long as fuck day on set, I headed back to the hotel, fit in a sixty-minute workout in the downstairs gym that consisted of weights and the treadmill, and tossed on a pair of freshly laundered—thanks to the hotel concierge—boxer briefs and sweats once I dried off from my shower.

The television is on some nightly news channel with a meteorologist rambling on about the weekly weather forecast in Memphis, and I glance at the time to see it’s already nearing ten.

I’m surprised Birdie hasn’t texted me by now, letting me know she’s done shooting concert scenes with fucking Johnny and the rest of the actors playing her band for the night. And when my phone chimes with a message, I snag it off the nightstand and check my inbox.



Marissa: Hey there, hot stuff. Long time no see. I hear you’re in Memphis right now. And funny thing, I’m in Memphis too, doing a photo shoot. ;) Want to meet up tonight?



When I note that the text isn’t from Birdie, I sigh in annoyance.

Marissa Spitz. Swimsuit model. Ex-lover. Once someone the gossip magazines had deemed I was in a relationship with. Not to mention, a woman I haven’t spoken with in about six months.

She’s great. Nice. And all the supermodel things most men would drool over.

But she’s no fucking Birdie Harris.



Me: Actually, I already have plans.



Marissa: Well, change them and come see me.



Me: While I appreciate the offer, I’m going to have to decline. I already have plans with someone important.



Marissa: Someone important? Don’t tell me Andrew Watson is trying his hand at a relationship…



Me: C’mon, M. Don’t be petty.



Marissa: Get real, Andrew. You know I was just joking, but your response leads me to believe you actually ARE in a relationship with someone. Color me shocked.



I wouldn’t say I’m in a relationship with Birdie, but I also wouldn’t say I’m looking to screw around with anyone else.

Strangely enough, that’s the last thing I want to do right now.

I’m simply relishing the fun we’ve been having together over the past few weeks. I’m enjoying spending time with her, and, it goes without saying, I’m really enjoying sliding my cock inside her and eating at the buffet that is her perfect pussy.