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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Paranoia was strong within me when it came to my loved ones and their well-being. I couldn’t count the number of sleepless nights I’d lived as I set up with a worrisome mind. And now Wesley being missing in action was only feeding into that fear of mine.

When I heard a car pull into our driveway, I darted over to my front door to make sure he was okay. To my surprise, I saw him climbing out of the passenger seat of a BMW. Out of the driver’s seat came Drew.

What was she doing here?

She tossed her head back, laughing at something Wesley said as he held leftover food containers in his hands. He laughed just as hard as her, going as far as to snort out a chuckle.

Within seconds, my worry turned into rage. A simmering rage that I had to push down as they both approached the front porch.

The moment Wesley’s eyes found mine, his smile stretched. “Hey, sweetheart.” He walked up the steps and kissed my cheek. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” I whisper-shouted, stunned by his nonchalant approach. “Where have you been? What is she doing here?”

I could’ve said it more nicely, but I didn’t see a reason to be nice at that moment. I’d spent the past few hours thinking my fiancé was dead in a ditch, only to find him rolling out of a car with his best woman—who was still his ex-girlfriend, by the way—laughing and giggling together.

He narrowed his confused eyes. “I thought I told you she and her work colleagues were coming into Chicago to present my boss with a presentation over the next two weeks.”

“You definitely didn’t tell me that,” I said.

“I’m sure I did. You were probably just wrapped up in your baseball stats and schoolwork,” he replied.

“No. I would’ve recalled your ex-girlfriend of four years coming to work with you for two weeks,” I sharply countered.

Wesley looked at me, stunned by my words. His voice dropped. “Don’t start, Ave…”

Don’t start?

“It’s actually a really exciting project. I think it could cause this guy to reach new levels in his career,” Drew stated as she walked up the steps, grinning ear to ear as she entered a conversation she wasn’t invited to join. She then rubbed her hand up and down Wesley’s arm. “He’s a brilliant mind. We might as well use the best of that brain of his.”

I tilted my head and stared at her hand on Wesley’s arm. I then looked at him, and the look was enough for him to shake Drew’s touch from his arm.

I never wanted to stab two people in the eyes more than at that very moment. Yet I still managed to push out a smile. “Lovely.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not crashing at your place. I was just hoping to use your bathroom before I headed back to my hotel in Chicago,” Drew mentioned as she scooted past me and walked into my house without an official invite.

Wesley must’ve noticed my bewilderment. There was so much to unpack from the interaction, including why Drew was driving him home that afternoon.

“My car died, and I needed a ride home,” he quickly explained. “Drew was already in the office, and it made sense for her to give me a ride home. Shortly after, my phone died. We ended up staying at my office for a while, talking to other people. You know, nerd stuff. Then she said she was hungry, so we stopped for a quick bite.” He held up the food containers. “I brought you leftovers.”

“I already ate,” I snipped. “The dinner I made for us.”

He frowned. “Sorry. I should’ve found a way to reach out to you.”

“You should’ve also gotten me a whole meal of my own. Not your doggy bag,” I grumbled.

“You’re right. I messed up.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll make sure things are clearer moving forward.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.”

Drew came back out on our front porch, wiping her hands against her thighs to dry them. “Thanks for the toilet, Avery. And thanks for buying me dinner, Wes. It was delicious.”

He bought her dinner? She called him Wes? He hated being called Wes. At least that was what he told me. I wasn’t a jealous girl, but based on the level of anger building within me, I was seconds away from punching Wesley in his privates.

I never knew I could hate someone more than I hated Nathan, yet Drew and Wesley were shooting for first place on my shit list. Anyway, currently, my hatred meter for Nathan seemed a bit…off. But alas. Life came at you quickly.

Drew hugged Wesley—or Wes, as she called him—a little too long if you ask me. I stood there stunned as her hands rubbed his back as if her fingertips were trying to find their way through his jacket and clothing so she could touch his bare skin. Listen, I wasn’t one to hate women. I was a girls’ girl through and through, but screw that woman. I needed someone to send her back to hell, where she came from.


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