Surrender (Club X #2)(31)
Author: K.M. Scott

She could wait. It would make the telling of the story all the better. I turned on the water and closed my eyes, not even trying to stop the smile that spread across my face. As I lathered up the shampoo in my hair, I heard on the other side of the shower curtain, “Spill your guts, girl. What happened with your boss?”

With suds rolling down the sides of my head, I peeked out and saw her standing there in my steamy bathroom. “Privacy mean anything to you?”

“Not when it comes to hot talk. Now spill it,” she ordered.

“Let me rinse, for God’s sake!” I said as I dipped my head under the water.

“Fine, but I’m not leaving this bathroom, so you might as well just get on with it.”

I rinsed the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair and gave myself a quick soapdown before I turned off the water and prepared to tell Carrie all the sexy details of my time with Stefan. Pulling back the shower curtain, I stuck my hand out for a towel. “I don’t kiss and tell without drying off first.”

She threw a bath towel at my head and sat down on the lid of the toilet. “Let’s go. I’m dying here. Did you sleep with him or what?”

“You know, when you diminish all my hard work down to just sex, you really hurt me, Carrie.”

Raising her eyebrows in faux disbelief, she grinned. “Just sex? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was an achievement like climbing Everest.”

I finished drying myself off and headed back into the bedroom. “You have no appreciation for my hard work. None at all.”

Carrie followed me and sat back down on the bed. “You know, Shay, as much as I love acting like some puppy dog and following you around, could you please begin this story before you start blow drying your hair or giving yourself a full facial?”

I stopped and took a deep breath, trying to stifle a laugh at Carrie’s impatience. Finally, when I knew I’d pushed her far enough, I slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top, sat down with her on the bed, and began to towel dry my hair. “Okay, I think I’m ready now.”

“Finally!”

“So, let me start at the beginning. Do you remember that first day when I told you that Stefan March was a player and nothing else?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “I think we can skip the details from way back when and get to the meat of this story. Did you sleep with him or not?”

“Yes.”

“And?” I didn’t answer immediately as I considered how I’d want to report Stefan’s sexual prowess, and Carrie continued, “Players are always good, so I don’t know why I even asked for more details. Let’s cut to the chase. What happened after you slept together?”

“He wants to sleep with me again.”

“Of course. But other than that, what’s going on between you and the master player?”

“He’s getting played.”

Carrie’s jaw dropped. When she finally could speak again, she asked, “You really went through with that?”

Her surprise bothered me. “You didn’t think I would?”

“Well, to be honest, no. You may be a player in your own right, but you’re no match for a man whose whole existence is based on playing women.”

“I can’t believe your lack of faith in my abilities. Some friend you are.”

Her dark eyes stared into mine, telling me she was serious. “Shay, this has disaster written all over it. I’m warning you now, girlfriend. Stop this or you’re going to get hurt. Stefan March isn’t Elliot, and this isn’t going to end up with you barely missing him like you did with that boy-toy.”

The mention of Elliot made me feel like a real shit. I hadn’t even missed him that much, and I hadn’t really mourned the loss of the relationship before sleeping with Stefan.

“Still being a harpy about poor Elliot, huh?” I asked, intentionally deflecting, but Carrie saw right through my attempt.

“Don’t try to change the subject. I’m worried about you. One of the women who comes into the boutique knew an awful lot about Stefan March, and she told me he’s a player like no other she’s ever seen.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Something about a woman telling Carrie all about Stefan as she shopped for high-end accessories was funny. “That you asked about him is touching, honey, but your concern is unnecessary. It’s all good fun for both of us—well, more for me since he’s not getting what he wants right now.”

“From you or anyone?” Carrie asked.

I felt my expression stiffen as the thought of Stefan with someone else sent a twinge of jealousy through my chest. “Me.”

“I saw that, Shay. You flinched when I mentioned him with someone else. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re going to get hurt with this one.”

Waving away her concerns, I tossed the damp towel onto the bed and moved over toward my dresser to finish getting ready. “Nonsense. All this is between him and me is sex. Period. Trust me. No one can keep her heart closed off like I can. Just ask poor Elliot.”

In the mirror, I saw Carrie furrow her brow. “Indeed, but poor Elliot wasn’t a major league player. He was simply a horny kid you took a shining to. This one knows his way around women.”

I finished coating my eyelashes with mascara and swiped cranberry gloss over my lips, smacking them together to spread it around. “I know you’re trying to help, but there’s no need. It’s all good.”

She said nothing for a long while as I put on the rest of my makeup. When she finally spoke, her words were far more serious than I was prepared to hear.

“I’m curious, Shay. Why the need to play this guy? I mean, so he came off like a 1950s Cro-Magnon the first day you met. So what? Why are you hell bent on this? You’re not a vicious person, and if you do play him and he falls for you, you’re going to hurt yet another guy.”

Ouch.

I turned around to face her judgment, far too defensive about what I was doing with Stefan. “Another guy? You make me sound like a black widow. And why do you care what some player ends up feeling anyway? Stefan March sees women as playthings, at best, and at worst, sperm receptacles. I would think you and all of womankind would be cheering me on.”

“I’m all for showing men we deserve better, Shay. Sign me up for that crusade. I’ll wear the uniform. But leading someone on, even a player, seems to make us even worse than men.”

Leave it to Carrie to drive the point home. I hated when she hit the nail on the head like that. I wasn’t worse than Stefan March. He went through women like water. I’d never been that way with men. That I’d never found the right guy and settled down wasn’t because I was some vicious creature out to break the hearts of all men who came into contact with me. It had never happened because I had goals and becoming someone’s girlfriend and someday his wife would derail those goals. Wanting to succeed in life shouldn’t make me the bad guy, but at that moment, I was feeling that way as Carrie looked at me as if I was no better than some callous player.