Page 59 of The Wrong Game

After all, making plans, lists, keeping things organized? It was like getting paid to do what I loved to do, anyway.

Besides, Carlo was the money maker in our family. He didn’t want me to have to worry about working, especially once we started talking about kids.

My stomach twisted at that thought. I had cried so many nights during our marriage, wondering why it was taking so long for us to get pregnant. Now, I didn’t know if I was more devastated that I didn’t have a piece of him to keep here with me, a child of his to raise, or if it was a blessing in disguise.

“I’m very proud of you,” I said through a yawn.

“Wish I could say the same right now, bestie.” Belle sighed. “Talk to me. How are you feeling?”

I pushed myself to sit up in bed, groaning as my muscles ached in protest. “Like a kite in a hurricane.” I sighed, picking at my nail polish. “I was actually okay with this plan, you know? I had it all figured out. And then mypractice roundturned out to be a big pain in my ass and threw everything out of whack. Now, I don’t have control of anything. I mean, the next home game is Sunday. I haven’t even found someone to go with.”

“Do you even still want to do this anymore?”

I chewed the inside of my lip, considering her question. “I do. I mean, look…” I ran a hand back through my greasy, rat-nest-like hair. “I’m not ready to date, to be in a relationship.” I kind of laughed at that. “Clearly. And honestly, I don’twantto do that again. But you were right…” I sighed. “I miss being touched, being looked at by a man who wants me, spending time with the opposite sex or, honestly,anyone. And Zach showed me thatthatpart of me I thought was dead is stillverymuch alive. So, yes. I do want to keep going to the games, and I do want to stick to our original plan.”

“Do you think,” Belle asked, pausing a moment before she continued. “Is it possible that maybe it’sZachthat you want, not just some random guy? Maybe that’s why it’s hard for you to pick the next one.”

I shook my head firmly. “No. I mean, yes, I like Zach. He’s fun, he’s hot.” I chuckled. “He infuriates the hell out of me. But, I really do feel like I’m being true to myself when I say I don’t want to go past one night with a guy. I mean, I hope Zach and I can be friends, but… nothing more.”

My chest was tight as I said those words, probably due to my drunken confessions to myself last night. But that was the tequila talking. I was attracted to Zach, which was normal, but I didn’t want more from him than what we’d already had.

Icouldn’twant more than that.

My sober mind was all too aware of what its drunken counterpart had neglected to take into consideration last night, which was that no matter how safe Zach felt inthismoment, he wasn’t.

No one was.

I could hear Belle moving around in her condo, but no words came. After a long pause, she cleared her throat. “Well, if that’s the case, then my theory is you feel out of control because you acted out of character last night. If you want to get the reins back, I think you should call Zach and apologize. Talk to him. Establish a friendship, make it crystal clear you want nothing more, and then you’ll feel better and you can move on to the next guy.”

“In theory, that all sounds grand,” I said. “But, do you think there’s any chance in hell he’ll want to speak to me, let alone be my friend, after last night?”

Belle sighed. “There’s only one way to find out.”

We ended the call not too long after that, and I sat in my bed, staring at my cell phone and debating whether I should call Zach or not.

On the one hand, I sort of felt validated in my actions. After all, I’d told him he was wasting his time. I told him I didn’t want anything more with him than that one night, and he just wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, last night, I proved to him that I was serious. It might not have been theclassiestway to get my point across, but it worked.

Still, the larger, louder part of me felt like putting my own self in timeout. It didn’t matter what I was trying to accomplish, my actions last night had been deplorable — even my ownbodywas punishing me for it. I felt like shit because I should have. Just because I didn’t want to date Zach didn’t mean I didn’t like him as a human being.

And wasn’t that part of my whole plan, to make friends, too? Why didn’t I just explain to him that I liked him, but that I couldn’t be more than friends right now? I played the game because it felt like fun, because I wanted to prove a point.

The only thing I’d proven was how much of a jackass I could be.

I could have sat and argued with myself all day, blaming my actions on the dream I’d had of Carlo, or on my past, or whatever else I could think of. But instead, I grabbed the phone, and I dialed Zach’s number.

“Hello?”

His voice was gruff, like he’d had just as rough of a night as I’d had.

“Hey,” I said, and suddenly, any idea of what I should say was thrown out the window. “Uh… how are you?”

“Just peachy. Did you need something?”

He was being short, and I could tell he was angry. He should have been.Iwould have been.

I inhaled, blowing out my next breath slowly and kicking the covers off my lap. “I’m sorry about last night, Zach.”

My heart was in my throat, especially when he didn’t respond. But once I opened the flood gates, everything just poured out.