Page 9 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

Chapter Nine

Taylor

A fter Hunter left, I assumed he was going home, but when I saw him turn and go to Van’s place, I felt my stomach drop. I hoped my brother wouldn’t cause more problems than those that already had arisen. But knowing Hunter, he would do what any big brother would. Create more issues for their little sister.

While Hunter was here, I stood at the oversized window in the living room and saw the same woman from the grocery store with Van leaving his house. This hit me hard, and I began sobbing again.

Hunter, the most overprotective and caring brother, took me in his arms and told me to let it all out. I cried because Van hurt me. I sobbed for Travis to be the man he was, but most of all, I cried for myself for being such an unsuspecting person.

Hunter stayed for a good half an hour, and when he left, he told me to relax and to take it easy for the rest of the day, and that he’d check in with me later tonight. I didn’t tell Hunter when I saw the woman leaving Van’s place, as I worried he’d go after her and confront her.

Ten minutes after Hunter disappeared behind the trees heading towards Van, I saw him stroll back to Gram’s property. He walked out to his pickup truck, got in, and drove away.

Curiosity was getting the better of me about what happened next door when Hunter confronted Van, but there was no way I was calling either of them to find out. Eventually, I figured I’d get the details.

I strode to the recliner, staring off into space. The last twenty-four hours seem surreal to me. Hell, the last few months were surreal. It started with Travis’ betrayal and continued when Van kissed me on the back deck.

My life has been turned upside down, and I was reeling from all the emotions I’ve experienced. I’d gone from pain and hurt to relief when I arrived in Coleman and circled back around to the beginning of the emotional rollercoaster.

Sitting in the recliner, I glanced at my forgotten book but decided to snatch up my laptop. It was on the table to my left, and as soon as I logged in, I went to my favorite social media website. I found Van’s page and began scrolling down his posts.

Not finding what I wanted, I switched to his photo albums and BINGO, and there it all was.

“Ah,” I squinted and glanced at all the pictures he’d posted, and some he’d been tagged in. One of the images was from what seemed to be some sort of formal dinner or a special event with all the A-listers in attendance.

Sitting at a round table, Van, dressed in a tuxedo, had his arm on the back of a chair. The same chair that the gorgeous brunette was sitting in. While she was smiling for the camera, Van was smiling at her. While it was difficult from the angle Van was sitting to see his face full on, I took his smile towards the woman as adoration.

Oh, how I wished Van would look at me like that.

Sighing, I turned my attention to Van himself, and if I thought Van was handsome daily, seeing him all decked out in a traditional black tuxedo, white starched shirt, and bow tie blew me away.

Sniffling the last of my tears away, I continued scrolling through his profile and saw many more pictures of him with the woman. In one of the pictures, I saw her name. I clicked on her name, and it took me to her profile.

As I scoured her About Me section, I snorted.

“Of course, she’s a swimsuit model,” I rolled my eyes. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Glancing at my current outfit, and seeing what this Ellie Parsons was wearing, the only word that came to my mind was frumpy. Whereas she wore a bikini that left little to the imagination, I wore a pair of cotton shorts and a white tank top with more stains than I recall.

Ellie’s hair was styled with perfect curls hanging down over her shoulders, and resting on the top of her bosom. My hand went absent-mindedly to my head, and the messy bun probably had seen better days.

Frowning, I couldn’t remember the last time I washed my hair, let alone struggled to get a brush through it. But this Ellie woman, more than likely, had an entire team of hairstylists and makeup artists who pampered her daily. On the other hand, I had to rely only on myself, and it’s obvious I didn’t care.

After doom scrolling through Ellie’s profile for another hour, I was mentally exhausted and decided to shower and wash away my sadness, tears, and pain. My eyes were swollen from crying, so I hoped a warm shower would help ease the puffiness.

Maybe after a nice long shower, I’d have a better outlook on life, but I doubted it.

***

I’d just dried my hair and brushed it out when the front doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Hunter, as he’d just walk in probably, so I knew it had to be Van.

Turning off the blow dryer, I set it on the bathroom counter and strolled down the stairs. Through the little window, I could see the top of Van’s head, and my heart skipped a beat. Even though I was upset with him, I couldn’t control my emotions and heart when it came to him.

Inhaling, I whipped open the door and tried not to smile. I was happy to see Van, but I needed to ensure he knew how upset I was with him.

“Hey,” he murmured, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I was wondering…” He paused. “Maybe later…” He stopped.

“Yes?” I leaned against the doorjamb, crossing my arms over my chest. “You were wondering what?”

I wasn’t going to make this easy for Van. I wanted him to cower and suffer a little.

“Yeah, well,” he glanced at me, and when our eyes connected, I felt a tingling in my chest, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. His dark brown eyes mesmerized me, but I had to fight the battle.

“And?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Can we go out to dinner tonight and talk?” He whispered.

“About what?” Yes, I wanted to make him drag this out. I needed him to know how much he had hurt me.

“Hunter came by earlier,” he began. “He told me you saw Ellie, and I need to explain…”

“You don’t owe me anything, Van,” I hissed. “No explanation. Nothing.”

“I want to explain,” he replied.

“I will not let you tell me what you want to make you feel better, or less guilty,” I challenged.

“That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my voice even.

“Dinner with you,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine. “Time alone, and a chance to explain.”

I took a deep breath, folding my arms across my chest. “Donovan Willis, I won’t tolerate any more lies. Not one.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “No lies. Just the truth. I’ll come get you in two hours.”

I paused, softening my tone. “I appreciate you wanting to talk. But I think dinner isn’t the best idea right now.”

His face fell just a little, but he quickly masked it. “I see.”

“I just need some space to process everything,” I added gently, giving him a small smile. “We can talk, but maybe... another time? When things aren’t so raw?”

He nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah, I understand. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“And you will,” I said, my voice kind. “But not over dinner tonight. Let’s give it a little more time, okay?”

He managed a faint smile, though his disappointment was evident. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks, Van.” I squeezed his arm lightly before stepping back inside, closing the door softly behind me.

I sighed as I leaned against the door, hoping I’d made the right call.