Page 46 of Play the Part (Marsford Bay #2)

CONNIE

H uxley is sitting on the couch in my office, facing me as I lean against the desk.

We haven’t spoken a word since I dragged him in here a few minutes ago. After Whit pulled Huxley off of Oliver, he ushered us out of the lobby and told us he’d make sure Oliver left as promptly as possible.

Although Huxley split his eyebrow open with the force of the headbutt, and his knuckles are vaguely bruised, his body language is relaxed. There’s a cocky smirk pulling at his lips as he rests back on the couch, his legs wide and his hands on his thighs.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I finally say.

My statement is so half-hearted that Huxley’s smirk never leaves his lips. I don’t mean it. I know it. Huxley knows it. Hell, even Whit knows it.

I’m glad that Oliver got what was coming to him.

Slimy piece of shit.

“ It’s not funny,” I say, but I can’t stop smiling. “Given your record and all.”

Huxley chuckles, resting his hands on the back of his head.

“Sometimes, you just gotta throw caution to the wind, baby.” His smile widens, flashing his teeth, but he then falls serious, his gaze intensifying. “There was no way in hell I was letting him talk to you like that.”

God.

I shouldn’t find his casual attitude toward violence so attractive. Shaking my head, I shoot him an amused look.

“Just try not to let it happen again, okay?” I push myself off the desk. “We’d never hear the end of it from your brother.”

I stroll over to him, and Huxley leans forward, giving me his hand to take. Slipping my palm into his, he tugs me onto his lap, and I giggle as I let myself be pulled down.

“It can be our little secret,” he says with a teasing smile. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he gives me a quick kiss before adding, “Besides, he’s not one to speak.”

I snicker, my arms around his neck. “Very true.”

When Ozzy first started dating Jamie, they had a run-in with her abusive ex at the restaurant where they used to work. Ozzy ended up dunking her ex’s hand into the fryer. She didn’t tell me until years later, after one too many glasses of rosé.

I guess we all have things to hide.

“So …” I start, turning slightly nervous in Huxley’s lap, chewing on my bottom lip.

“So …” Huxley repeats, elongating the word as a way to coax me into continuing my sentence.

“I think we should start dating,” I blurt out.

I can tell Huxley wasn’t expecting me to say that by the furrow in his brow and his quirky little side-eye.

He playfully pats my ass before saying, “Isn’t that what we’re doing?” He kisses my nose. “Are you asking me to go steady, Connie Broadbent?”

I laugh a little too nervously for my taste. “I mean like date date. I feel like we’ve gone about this all wrong. What if we, like, I don’t know … actually get to know each other instead of just fucking and fighting.”

Huxley’s eyes turn hooded, his smile languid and confident. “I kind of like it when we fight.”

I tongue my cheek, grinning back at him.

“Yeah, maybe a little too much.”

He kisses me, smiling against my lips.

“So dating, huh?” he says in between kisses down my neck.

“Yes, dating,” I breathe out as Huxley’s fingers dance near my collar, pulling it down so he can trail his lips over my collarbone.

“Like flowers and shit?”

I chuckle under my breath, closing my eyes at the maddening sensation of Huxley’s lips on my skin.

“Yeah, like, wine and dine me for once,” I say teasingly.

His eyes glide up to meet mine, his side grin so refreshing to see on his face after countless scowls. Oddly, the fight between him and Oliver seems to have relaxed him. It’s as if he’s more confident about us than ever. It sends a thrill down my spine, giddiness tickling my heart.

“It’ll be my absolute pleasure to wine and dine you, baby,” he rasps. “I’ll spoil you for the rest of your life if that’s what you want.”

My stomach flips with the way he phrases that last part … I can’t help but think of how our last fight ended, outside of Jamie’s restaurant. How he told me he loved me. And how I so desperately wanted to say it back.

I wonder if he’ll risk telling me again.

Or will he be waiting for me to say it?

Then, again—am I even ready for love?

I push my anxious thoughts to the side for now and smile down at him. Smoothing my thumb across his cheek, I kiss him.

For now, my heart is cautiously hopeful.

I think I just need a little bit more time to mend some of my broken parts. For once in my life, I don’t want to rush into anything. Huxley means too much to me to ruin it with my old ways.

But the thought of Huxley and me finally dating feels like a warm beacon of light to my bruised heart. A sign that things are going to work out for us. Because if I am such a big believer in fate, then I also have to be an equally big believer in us .

That night, Huxley has his woodworking class, so I beg Jamie to come out with me for drinks since I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.

Baby steps.

I can sit in my feelings and reflect on it all tomorrow.

We meet up at a cute bistro uptown and choose to sit at the bar instead of a table. I catch her up with my new developments with Huxley, conveniently keeping out what happened this morning at the Remington.

“Then I told him I wanted to start dating.”

Jamie gasps as if I’ve told her the hottest Hollywood gossip.

“And what did he say?”

I press my lips into a smirk.

“He said that he’d spoil me for the rest of my life if that’s what I wanted.”

Jamie looks like she’s about to pass out, her eyes instantly watering.

“That’s so romantic,” she croaks.

Her reaction warms my heart, but I can’t help but tease her.

“Please collect yourself, Jamie.”

She snickers into her hand.

“Does that make us sisters now?” she says with stars in her eyes.

I snort into my wine glass. “Woah there, Jamie. As much as I love the idea, we just started dating like an hour ago.”

She giggles and tucks a pink strand behind her ear.

“Well, a girl can dream.”

We share a laugh, taking a sip of our respective wines.

Changing the subject, I look over to Jamie and quirk a smile. “Can you believe you’re getting married in three months? God, time really does fly as we get older.”

“I know, right?” she says breezily. “I swear the engagement party was, like, yesterday.”

Hearing her mention her engagement party, I wince and shoot my best friend a guilty look.

She immediately turns suspicious, eyeing me with narrowed blue eyes.

“What did you do?”

I snort out a laugh. “Okay, wow, why do you immediately think I did something bad?”

She presses her lips together, clearly unimpressed.

“Because I’ve known you our whole twenties,” she answers matter-of-factly. “You’re allergic to impulse control.”

I laugh, then sigh far too dramatically, moving my hair from one shoulder to the other. “ God , you really do hate me.”

Jamie smirks at my dig, her gaze shining with love and years of friendship.

“Go on,” she presses, “Spill.”

“So, uh …” I chew on my inner cheek, toying with my wine stem, acting deliberately shifty. “I never told you that the first time I hooked up with Huxley was actually at your engagement party.”

I brace myself, eyeing Jamie from the corner of my eye. Her mouth falls open, shock written clearly across her face. “Connie!”

I flash her a guilty smile, then hold up my hand. “Look, please spare me the sermon,” I whine. “I’ve already heard it all from Sophia.”

“ Sophia knew about it before me?!”

Oops.

I’ve known Jamie for long enough that I can tell she isn’t mad per se, but I still feel guilty that I’ve kept that one secret for so long.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really am,” I say with an apologetic pout. “It’s just that Sophia had already guessed that something was going on between us, and I really needed advice from someone who knew Huxley personally, you know?”

She eyes me some more.

“I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” she finally says, reaching for her wine glass. “While we’re here — any more secrets I should know about?”

I didn’t plan to tell Jamie about the fight, but it comes out all in one go anyway.

“Huxley headbutted Oliver in the face today.”

Her expression starts with shock and ends with concern. I can read exactly what’s happening behind her worried gaze. I don’t let her speak before pleading my case.

“ Please , promise me you won’t tell Ozzy. He’ll just worry for nothing, I swear Huxley won’t get in trouble. I handled it, I swear .”

I fill Jamie in with the last of my Oliver drama, and while I speak, she cycles through all the expected emotions: Shock. Concern. Disgust. Anger. Outrage.

“That dick ,” she spits when I finally finish my story, her body leaned into the bar toward me.

“To put it nicely,” I reply with a snark.

Sitting up straight, she rolls her eyes. “Well, I can’t blame Huxley for what he did then.”

I lift an amused brow and take a sip of wine.

“Told you.” I flag down the bartender and signal for another round. “ Anyway , how’s your online shop? Sold any paintings recently?”

Aside from owning a restaurant with her fiancé, Jamie is a prolific painter and has built up quite a following, selling her prints online.

“Good,” she sighs happily. “Really good. I’m launching a new collection of prints at the end of the month.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” I reply with a coy wink. “I need a new James Ferdinand original for my place.”

Jamie’s face brightens, her mouth falling open into a wide smile. “Yeah?”

I return her excitement and smile. “Duh, I am your biggest fan after all.”

She giggles. “Ozzy might fight you on that one.”

I grin into my glass. “We’ll see about that.”