Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,28

there. Thankfully, there was still some left in the bottle, and after pouring a small amount in a glass and grabbing a few sodas, I carried everything to the living room. Foster was sitting on the couch, but his ramrod-straight spine told me he was anything but relaxed.

“Relax, Foster,” I told him as I sat beside him and handed him the glass.

Foster grabbed the glass, but he didn’t lift it to those tantalizing lips to drain it. Instead, he took a deep breath before looking at me. “I don’t think I can.”

“How come?” My voice was husky and raw.

“It’s hard to relax when you’re so close to me.”

“Do you want me to move?” I asked, shifting as if to get up.

Foster reached out and wrapped his hand around my forearm. His grip was strong, and it was the first time he’d touched me. The warmth of his skin against mine caused me to stay rooted to my spot.

“Not a chance. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this,” he said with a sigh before letting me go. I instantly missed his hand on me but didn’t invite him to put it back. I wanted him to do it when he was ready.

“What’s this?”

Rather than answer me, he tossed back the scotch and made a face as his body shuddered at the bite the liquid left in his throat.

“Like I said, I’ve never been with a man before. Yeah, I’ve always been confident enough to admit when a man is attractive, but that’s the extent of it. Up until recently, I was engaged, and the breakup is the reason I’m back here and working at the bar.”

“What happened?”

“We fell out of love with each other. Staying together was just out of habit and comfort. We shouldn’t have gotten engaged to being with, but it seemed like the logical thing to do since I’d move to be with her at her new job. But the feelings were gone. There was nothing left between us at all, not emotionally and certainly not physically.”

“So you left?”

Foster shook his head and held up his glass. “I don’t suppose I can have any more?”

I reached out and took the glass from him before setting it on the table. “I think a clear head is better, don’t you?”

Foster blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe you’re right. And no, I didn’t leave immediately. She came to me one afternoon saying she’d slept with a coworker.”

I swore under my breath. How could someone do that to him? A person who claimed to want to spend her life with Foster, sought comfort and sexual release in the arms of another person? A rage consumed me that I’d never experienced before, and I wanted to hunt both his ex and her lover down to punish them for hurting my bartender. Thankfully, Foster kept talking and his next sentence calmed me down.

“The problem was, I wasn’t upset. If anything, I was relieved. Her cheating had given me the out I needed, since I was too much of a coward to leave on my own. But my reaction wasn’t what she wanted, and since I didn’t fight to keep her or save our relationship, she made it more difficult for me. Everything was in her name since my credit is shit, and I didn’t have much money since I was still looking for a job. So when I came back here, I had to find work and a place to live.”

It was all making sense now. How he wound up at the bar and why he lived where he did. While my rage had turned down to a simmer, I was still angry at how his ex had treated him. He didn’t deserve any of that.

“She did you a favor,” I finally said when I was able to speak.

“I know that now. But when I was struggling to find a job, I couldn’t help but question my decisions. If I’d stayed and suggested we work it out, I’d be in a better place to live and not here licking my wounds.”

I wanted to tell him I had something for him to lick, but that wasn’t the time. “But then you’d be stuck in a very unhappy marriage and become more miserable by the day. Yeah, right now you’re in a slump, but you’re working your way out of it.”

“True. And I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“There’s also that,” I said gruffly. “But is this really