The Problem with Players Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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“Just what this guy needs,” Drew said, poking Wesley in his gut. My eyes fell to the gesture, and when I moved back to Wesley’s eyes, he must’ve noticed the daggers I was shooting his way because he took a step away from Drew.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “About five pounds of it. I’m making a special dinner for Avery. A little treat-before-marriage type of meal. She’s been a bit overwhelmed, and I want to make sure she feels loved,” he told me.

“I’m sure what you’re doing will make her feel that way,” I taunted.

“Yeah, and I’m just working as his sous chef,” Drew chimed in. “I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t cut off a finger, seeing how he hardly knows how to cook,” she said, playfully swatting his chest.

I took notes of the hits again.

Wesley took note of me noting said hits.

“Chill out, Drew,” he said with a forced laugh.

She leaned in and licked his ice cream again. It appeared she had no chill-out mode.

“Do you need anything else?” I asked curtly, still annoyed.

“Just two ribeyes, and we’ll be ready to go,” Wesley said, sensing the uncomfortable energy in the space.

Priya began collecting the order. When she finished, I rang them up and checked Wesley out. He thanked me for the order. I didn’t say anything back. They left, but before I knew it, Wesley walked back inside.

“Hey, man. I know you and Avery have practice later today. Do you think you can keep the whole dinner and our interaction here to yourself? I want it to be a surprise.”

“You want me to keep Drew licking your fucking cone to myself, too?” I bit.

His face flushed a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not what it looks like. She’s just⁠—”

“Better get those oxtails home, Wesley.”

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that. From one guy to another, you know how Avery can be. If she found out, she’d make it something it’s not. She’s a bit of a drama queen with a temper regarding this friendship between Drew and me.”

“Hey, Wesley?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Come closer.”

He took two steps toward me.

I leaned over the display and whispered, “Say one more bad thing about Avery, and I’ll slam your fucking face into this glass display.”

That drained the color from his cheeks before he turned and left.

The second he was gone, Priya turned to me with a look of concern.

“I thought that guy was engaged to Ms. Kingsley?” Priya asked after Wesley left the shop.

“He is,” I said, feeling a pit of doubt sitting heavily in my stomach.

“Wow,” Priya said as she restocked the pork belly in the display window. “Ms. Kingsley is a better woman than me. I would never be okay with my fiancé being all over another person like that.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Avery knew about Wesley and Drew. I doubt she would’ve been fine with how close the two of them seemed within our shop.

The urge to kick Wesley’s ass was a strong one, but instead, I debated if it was my place to inform Avery of what I’d seen. Then again, if it were me, I’d want to know.

Even if it hurt.

10

AVERY

Imoved through the day as a zombie. I ran into a few people in town. None of them realized I wasn’t myself that day—or maybe this was my true self. Still, they didn’t notice how off I felt. They didn’t see me because I’d worn a mask to hide my darkness so well.

Sure, they saw my grumpiness and cold persona, but they didn’t see the heartbreak rippling through my system. They didn’t see my sorrow and pain as they passed by me. I felt invisible to the world, and I couldn’t help but think that even my partner couldn’t see the hurt within me.

As I walked to my office before practice, I took a few deep breaths at my desk. I wished there was a button on my body to reset my system and be normal. Whatever normal was.

Nathan knocked on my door and peered inside. “Hey, Coach. I just wanted to stop in and check on our plans for today and…” He stepped into my office space and knitted his brows together. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You look…off.”

My chest tightened slightly from his words.

No way.

There was no way he could see me—see the real me—when the rest of the world seemed so blind.

I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. “I don’t look off.”

“Yes, you do.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know…You just look…” He studied me with a slight tilt of his head. “Sad.”

I swallowed hard.

Sad.

Yes.

That’s it.

“I’m not sad,” I lied, standing from my desk. “What in the world would I have to be sad about?”

“You tell me, Coach.”

His sincerity kept me from coming up with some witty remark. That, and my mind was still beating me up for calling him a bad guy the day prior. Yet there he was, Mr. “Bad Guy.” The only one who could read my truths when the rest of the world seemed addicted to my misprints.



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