Page 86 of Tempting the Player
Fuck.
But he missed Bridget’s smile—her laugh. He missed how she always smelled of jasmine and the way she felt against him. He missed the blush that always popped up on her face and traveled down her neck.
Chad missed the witty comebacks and the way she was okay when things were quiet. He missed her asking about his day and hating the paparazzi and the way she never let him get away with anything. He even missed that fat-ass cat of hers.
He just fucking missed her.
Dropping the towel, he then ran his hands down his face. Avoiding the calls had been hard enough, but not reaching out to her had been a real effort. He was about to hop in the shower when he heard a knock on the front door. Figuring it was one of his brothers trying to drag him out for New Year’s and ignoring the rush of excitement at the thought it might be Bridget, he answered the door.
It was worse.
“Miss Gore.” He drew her name out, the way he knew she hated. “What did I do to earn this pleasure?”
She scowled as her gaze drifted over him. “Do you ever wear a shirt when you’re home?”
“No. If you have a problem, see you—”
She put her hand up, stopping his attempt to close the door in her face. “I wouldn’t have to be coming here if you would answer your phone and stop acting like a general ass.”
Chad closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Like I said in the last phone call, I don’t need your services anymore. You did your job. Congrats and thank you. Now please get the hell out of my life.”
Miss Gore pushed past him, went into his kitchen, and hopped up on the bar stool and crossed her legs. “I’m still your publicist until the Nationals decide my services are no longer needed.”
“Great,” he muttered.
“And you do need me.”
Chad grabbed a bottle of water and propped his hip against the counter. “You’re the last person I need.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “You need Bridget.”
A sharp pain hit him in the gut. “I stand corrected. She’s the last person I need.”
“Really?” she replied. “Then if she was the last person you needed, why did you sleep with her?”
Chad swore under his breath. “I’m not talking—”
“Oh, you’ll talk to me, all right.” Miss Gore spun on the stool, tracking his movements. “You shouldn’t have slept with her if you were going to turn around and walk out!”
“Why are you upset? You set this whole damn thing up!” Chad was dumbfounded. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Miss Gore folded her arms. “That you actually got over yourself? So what? She didn’t want to date you in the beginning—she needed a little push.”
Chad was about to throw this woman out of his apartment. “You blackmailed her into being with me.”
“I didn’t blackmail her into sleeping with you, you big dumbass!”
“Yeah, you’re paying her to do so.” Chad smirked. “Big fucking difference there.”
“What?” Miss Gore sat back and let out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”
“First off, I don’t think any of this is funny and secondly—”
“Yes. You’re an idiot.” Miss Gore shot to her feet, planting her hands on her hips. “Let me guess. Bridget started explaining to you why she agreed to do this, but you heard only what your sensitive male ears wanted to hear and jumped to conclusions? Because I didn’t pay Bridget a dime for doing this.”
“That’s not—”
“I did offer to pay her—to pay off her student loans, to be exact. I thought that would be a better incentive,” Miss Gore said. “And after dealing with you for less than a month, I figured we needed to pay the poor girl.”
