Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(24)

“She seems a little off,” she says slowly, guilt dripping from every word. Her forehead is wrinkled and she avoids my stare. I feel instantly selfish for reacting the way I did, seeing how upset it’s made her, but I can’t find it in myself to apologize. Neither of us have done anything wrong. Maeve is the one to blame for all of this.

Catching my best friend having sex with my boyfriend of four years will never not sting. And six months later I’m still not over it. I’m not sure if I should be by now, but I’m definitely not. I still miss them both so much that I hate them even more for it. They don’t deserve to be missed. They deserve to live a very miserable life together. They should be missing me.

“I don’t care.” The lie burns my throat. “She seemed fine when Logan was shoving her up against the wall of Sinners the other night. Actually, she seemed pretty fucking great.” Okay yeah, I’m bitter. I have a right to be.

“What?” Sophie gasps. “She definitely didn’t mention that.”

“And you’re surprised why? She lied to us for months, Soph.” I lean back against the wall with my arms crossed, trying desperately to ignore the pain beginning to grow between my eyes.

“I know.” She sighs softly, lips forming a small pout. “I just thought that she could have changed, you know. Gone back to how she used to be. We could have been a group again.”

I place my hand on her slouched shoulder. “I hope for the same thing. But she broke my heart, Sophie. I trusted her with my life and she used that against me for who even knows how long.”

She nods before leaning her head back against my stomach. The memories of that night never seem to fade or lose their colour. They stay clear and vibrant, like a freshly painted canvas.

I got home from work and heard him calling out her name from our bedroom. I remember the spiked up, messy head of blonde hair peeked out from beneath our heavy white comforter. Her short black dress was strung carelessly across the back of my office chair. The sound my wine glass made as it fell from my hands, shattering against the hardwood floor. I can feel the burn in my throat from when my choked sob flew across the room, the two bodies jumping anxiously from the bed.

“Sierra?” Sophie calls, staring up at me curiously. I force a smile and fall back in the now, shoving the memories to the back of my mind.

Moving my gaze to the sunflower shaped clock hung from the wall behind my desk, I say, “Lunch goes by too fast.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’ll call you later?” Or, in other words, can you please leave?

“Right.” She coughs, standing up from her chair. “Have a good rest of your day, babe. Talk later.”

I round my desk and place my palms down on the smooth wood, nodding firmly. An array of emotions flicker across Sophie’s face before she settles on a small smile. She raises her hand in a small wave and pulls open my door, walking through it silently.

As soon as she’s gone, I close the door and a choked sob is ripped from my throat. I move a shaky hand to my chest bone and struggle to suck in a shuttered breath. Balling my hands into fists, I clench my jaw, angered by my lack of strength. Keep it together, Sierra.

They never deserved you. They mean nothing to you anymore. You can do better. You will do better.

I repeat the mantra over and over again until I’ve made myself believe it. Even for just right now.





As I slide a thick stack of clasped papers into my briefcase, a knock on the door startles me. My eyes—tired and somewhat blurry from the sting of my drying contacts—fall on Cole’s broad shoulders as he leans in the doorway, the epitome of confidence and bold male energy. I think it’s easy to admit that he intimidates me nearly as much as Braden does.

A heat festers in my chest at the thought of Braden. Nearly six-and-a-half feet of towering man and sexual prowess wrapped in a mess of arrogant words, fearlessness, and a whole ton of experience. I’m not sure how anyone could help not being intimidated by all of that. I wouldn’t doubt that even someone like Cole would find Braden’s presence unnerving.

“Heading out?” Cole asks with an easy smile that makes my nerves somewhat settle.

“Yes, sir. I have a box of toaster waffles calling my name.” I laugh lightly, sliding the straps of my purse up my arms until they rest on my shoulder.

“As great as those sound, I actually came to invite you to join myself and a few other co-workers at the Italian restaurant down the street. Best fettuccine in the city, hands down.” His million-dollar smile does little to calm the growing uncertainty that fills my stomach at the thought of having such a casual meeting with my bosses.

With my luck, I’ll crumble under the pressure and end up stuttering a ridiculous attempt at a joke that will end up labeling me as the awkward girl for the rest of my career here. Not the worst label, but not exactly what I’m aiming for.

“Thank you for the offer, bu—”

“We don’t bite, I promise. It’ll be fun,” he tries again, this time placing his palms together in front of him. The gesture looks like a silent plea, and I feel my resolve weakening.

I’m not sure whether it would look worse for me to decline all together, or make a complete nervous fool of myself. Not wanting to upset the people who hold my entire career in their hands, I say, “Okay. When should I be there?”

He grins. “We can head over now, actually. Everyone is already on their way. I offered to ask you myself. It’s only a five-minute walk, anyway.”