Page 11 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

Chapter Eleven

Taylor

I sat in the dark living room. Tears stained my cheeks, and I wiped them away. It’s been a few hours since I stormed out of the restaurant where I’d met Van, and I was trying my best to forget the beautiful women who came over to gush over him.

Seeing Van in this element of his life caused me to rethink everything I’ve been contemplating since he lied to Hunter about our kiss.

Was Van really interested in me at all? Or was he playing with me?

Thinking about Ellie, and how I’d seen them together twice now, made me lean towards him being a player. Casanova. Romeo. Cheater.

He was back home, no one was around, and his woman came to find him. But in the meantime, Van had to quench a thirst, and I was the water.

I hated being that person.

I didn’t appreciate being manipulated, deceived, or kept in ignorance. I learned that the hard way, as my mind drifted to Travis. He lied to me, hid his addiction from me, and had never loved me. He just dated me, asked me to marry him, and stayed engaged to me because if he didn’t, he’d lose his inheritance. I found out about the inheritance after I called off the wedding.

“I hope things worked out well for you, Travis,” I said, sniffling and wiping my nose with a tissue. Van kept occupying my thoughts.

Did he really expect me not to notice? Did he believe I was that na?ve?

“Well, I’m not,” I grumbled, staring out the living room window.

The moon was high, lighting outside and filtering into the house. I stood and walked to the side window. The window faced the Willis house. I could see the light upstairs. The kitchen had a light on as well.

This signaled that Van was awake, and I hoped he felt bad. Suddenly, a thought struck me.

What if he brought one of those women home with him?

“Oh, snap,” I murmured and felt the tears falling again. “Why, Van? Why?”

I ran to the staircase leading to the second floor and raced up to my bedroom. Flinging myself onto my bed, I let the tears fall and wrapped myself up in the quilt that Gram had made for me when I was a little girl, which had always comforted me.

Maybe the pink lambs frolicking in a farm pasture or the extra stuffing Gram added made it the fluffiest quilt I’d seen. Either way, curling up with this old, fluffy quilt seemed to help take away my worries and dry up my tears.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled and tried to push aside images of Van, and how handsome he looked tonight.

Which made it easier for me to understand why women were so attracted to him. His dark brown wavy hair, which hung just past his shirt collar, and the perfectly placed curls that seemed even more prominent when he shook his head, made me think he could be a model on a romance novel’s cover.

He could wear a white shirt emphasizing his tanned skin, with the buttons open showing off his muscular and trim abdomen. Of course, a fan set behind the scenes would blow on him, and his hair would ruffle in the gentle breeze, allowing for a fabulous photo shoot.

By the time I had the vision complete, I was smiling, and laughter escaped my lips. I cuddled with the quilt, and as I did, I felt the anger, sadness, and hurt fade away. Envisioning Van as some eye candy on a sultry romance book cover was more than I could handle. While it was a stretch of the imagination, it helped me get over Van choosing the three women in the restaurant over me.

“Always a second thought,” I whispered into the darkness.

Keeping my eyes closed, I sighed and snuggled deeper into my bed. I vowed at that moment to never allow someone to hurt me again. Travis and Van were the top contenders for this, but there had been more along the way of my life, but no more.

“No more,” I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep.

***

Waking up the following day, my head hurt a little, so before even making my coffee, I downed a couple of aspirin. I slept alright, so I’m assuming the discomfort came from all the tears I’d shed before falling asleep.

Glancing at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I saw the dark circles under my eyes and how puffy my eyes appeared.

My hair, which I’d taken a painstaking effort to make presentable last night, had flopped all over the place, and the eloquent bun I had created now looked like I’d been through hurricane-strength winds, with more hair cascading down across my neck than were up in the clips and pins.

I thought about the three women from the restaurant and wondered if they appeared as such a disaster every morning.

They probably wake up with every hair in place, perfect skin, and no raunchy morning breath.

After attending to bathroom tasks, I went to the kitchen to make coffee and decide on my plans for the day. What I knew I wouldn’t be doing was seeing Van. I had nothing to say and didn’t care what he said.

While my coffee brewed, I looked out the window over the sink but saw no signs of life from Van’s place. It wasn’t too early, as I had slept in. I guess I was emotionally and mentally drained from last night, and needed the extra sleep.

Once the coffee was done, I poured myself an oversized mug and added some sugar and milk. I casually approached the back door and opened it. The sun was up, and I enjoyed my coffee on the back deck.

Stepping outside, I inhaled and sat in one of the chairs. Tuning my ears into the sounds surrounding me, I could hear birds chirping, a lawn mower buzzing around someone’s yard, and other familiar noises.

But nothing from next door.

Sipping my coffee, I shook my head. I need to stop thinking about Van and whether he was alone.

“Easier said than done,” I grumbled.

I sat there until I finished my coffee, enjoying the solitude. Running through my head what I wanted to do today, I know I have one phone call I’ve been putting off for a few days.

I need to call the HR lead and extend my leave. It’s been nearly a month, and I only requested thirty days. I recently realized this while online paying bills and glancing at the calendar. I must extend it by another month as I still don’t feel ready to return.

I knew Travis was no longer there, but my co-workers knew the truth and I wasn’t ready to see them.

I hoped extending my leave wouldn’t be a problem, but I was prepared to resign if so. I could find a job as a physical therapist anywhere.

“I can do it here,” I murmured, then smiled. “I could find a job closer to home…” I paused as I considered the possibility.

First, I considered Gram’s old house, my childhood home, as my home now. My second thought was that I didn’t need to return to my old job. I could just find a new one.

Before I called the office, I would scour the internet and see what job options were available close to home .

Returning inside, I quickly grabbed my laptop and returned to the deck. I’d spend an hour searching, and then when I have a more concrete plan, I’d make the call.

Moving forward with my life seemed like the best decision, especially after all the confusion with Van.

The sunlight and quiet morning breeze offered peace, but my thoughts about Van kept circling back no matter how much I tried to push them away.

Then, just as I was about to open my laptop, I heard footsteps approaching the deck. My heart instantly sped up, and I didn’t need to look to know it was him.

“Taylor?” Van’s voice broke the stillness, soft but serious.

I turned slowly, seeing him standing by the door, his expression tense. His dark brown hair was in disarray, and appeared unlike his usual composed self. He seemed vulnerable, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I figured you’d show up eventually,” I said, folding my arms as I met his gaze. “What is it, Van? Come to explain why three beautiful women were fawning over you last night while I stood by like I didn’t exist?”

He winced, and I could see the guilt flash across his face. “It wasn’t like that, Taylor.”

“Really? Because that’s exactly how it felt.” I shook my head, my voice laced with frustration. “We’re supposed to be in this fake relationship, and you acted like I was invisible. How do you think that made me feel?”

Van sighed and stepped closer to the deck railing, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re right. I mishandled it. I didn’t realize how much attention I’d get being back in town… I didn’t think it would affect you like that.”

His admission surprised me, but I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “You didn’t think it would affect me? Van, this whole situation is confusing enough. You can’t just ignore me when it’s convenient.”

Taking in my words, he nodded and apologized, saying, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Although his voice was genuine, I remained guarded.

“And then there’s Ellie,” I added, crossing my arms tighter. “I’ve seen you with her twice. I’m not na?ve, Van. If the kiss was just a way to keep me around while you figure things out with her, I would not stand for it.”

“Taylor, Ellie’s not what you think,” he said, pleading. “We’re not together. Not anymore. She returned out of the blue, but whatever we had was long over. I swear.”

I wanted to believe him, but a part of me still couldn’t shake the feeling of being used.

“So why didn’t you tell me about her before? You could’ve been honest with me from the start.”

“I didn’t think she’d even be an issue.” Van stepped closer and said, “My focus was on you. You’re the one I’m worried about, Taylor. I want to make things right.”

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He hesitated, then looked at me with a sincerity I hadn’t expected. “Have dinner with me—just the two of us. Let’s talk, really talk, without all the distractions. I owe you that much.”

I stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say.

After everything that had happened, the idea of sitting down with him again was tempting and terrifying.

Part of me wanted to say no, to walk away and protect myself from getting hurt. But another part of me, the part that still remembered what we’d shared before everything got complicated, wanted to give him a chance.

“One dinner?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“One dinner,” he confirmed, nodding. “No pressure, no expectations. Just a chance to clear the air.”

I sighed, glancing away as I considered it.

This fake relationship was already messy, but if there was any hope of sorting things out, I may need to hear him out.

“Fine. One dinner. But that’s it, Van. After that… we’ll see.”

Relief flickered across his face, and he smiled slightly for the first time since he arrived. “Thank you, Taylor. I promise we’ll make this right.”

Despite my lack of conviction, I nodded, with my heart still guarded. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As he turned to leave, I leaned against the table, trying to steady myself. This dinner might bring the closure I needed or open a whole new chapter I wasn’t ready for. Either way, I’d be prepared.

For now, let him try to explain. But I wouldn’t be anyone’s second choice.