By His Play

55. Effie

55

EFFIE

H onestly, the person who thought it was a good idea to hold a meeting this afternoon needs to be shot.

No one wanted to be there. I caught every single person around the table glancing at a clock more than once. All of us were too busy mentally preparing for the night and weekend ahead of us.

It’s comical really. I’ve never been that person.

Sure, I always look forward to my evenings and weekends—who doesn’t? But I’ve never had plans so important or exciting that I’ve wanted to change the clock just to get out early.

The last two hours of the day feel like a week, but finally, the meeting is brought to a close, and no sooner have I fled the meeting room than my computer is shut down and my purse is over my shoulder. I am out of there.

Anything I haven’t done can definitely wait until Monday.

My hands are trembling and butterflies are rioting in my stomach as I drive home. I barely even remember the journey; I am on total autopilot as I mentally plan what I am going to do the minute I walk into my apartment.

Kieran is on his way home. He messaged a couple of hours ago to say that they were on the road. For all I know, he could already be back at his apartment by now, also getting ready for tonight.

My foot taps on the floor as the elevator rises through the building, and the second I’m inside, I begin undressing.

I shed clothes as I move toward my bedroom, and by the time I get to the bathroom, only my underwear remains.

That soon hits the floor, and I step into the shower before I’ve let it warm up.

I shriek when the cold water hits me, but I don’t shy away.

Seeing as I’ve already been waxed from head to toe, I don’t need to waste time shaving anything. Instead, I wash and deep condition my hair in the hope it does what I want it to, and I scrub every inch of myself clean.

I’ve been on a handful of dates over the years, but none of them have made me feel like this.

I’m buzzing with excitement and anticipation.

No one would guess that I’m going out with a man I’ve known almost all my life. They’d probably think I’m going on a first date with a stranger because of how nervous and giddy I am.

But I guess that’s the power of Kieran Callahan.

I let out a sigh as I rinse the conditioner from my hair.

Is this it?

Is tonight the beginning of something I didn’t even know I needed in my life until recently?

It’s funny how things can change so quickly.

One minute I was happy being his best friend, and then the next…

I shake my head in disbelief, my cheeks heating as I think about just how much time I’ve spent fantasizing about his body—his dick—recently.

I’ve never been truly infatuated with a guy in my life. Until now, it seems.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I wring my hair out before standing in front of the mirror, ready to make myself look my best.

Those butterflies go wild all over again as I think about what tonight might hold.

I apply my makeup before drying and curling my hair. For once, it behaves itself, and I’m happy with the soft waves that hang over my shoulders.

Happy with my appearance, I pad toward my wardrobe and pull out a box. Inside hides the most expensive and sexiest underwear I’ve ever owned.

Not only are they sexy as hell, but they’re also red and black.

Chiefs’ colors.

Reaching for the garments, I fasten the garter belt around my waist before pulling the stockings up my legs. They’re so thin and delicate, I don’t know how I don’t destroy them as I slide them on.

The panties—if you can call the scrap of fabric panties—are next, and then I reach for the bra.

I tried it on in the store the other afternoon, but I still gasp when I step in front of my full-length mirror.

“Holy shit.”

My tits look fantastic, and when I twist around, I must admit that my ass looks pretty good too.

This was definitely a good choice. Kieran is going to lose his mind when he undresses me later.

Happy with the outcome, I spin back to my closet to grab my dress.

It’s a classic little black dress that fits me like a second skin.

It isn’t something I would have chosen before. But then, I wasn’t going on a date with the Chicago Chiefs star running back before.

The temptation to go with a safe option when I was shopping was strong, but then I remembered Kieran’s reaction when we were dress shopping in St. Louis and I decided to think outside the box.

I really hope it pays off.

Gently, I remove it from the hanger, and I’m pulling the zipper down ready to step into it when there’s a loud bang from my living room.

My heart jumps into my throat, and without thinking about it, I race out to see what it was.

“Oh my god,” I gasp when I find Kieran storming through my apartment. For a couple of blissful seconds, I assume that he couldn’t wait to see me any longer.

But then, everything comes crashing down.

His eyes drop down my body, taking in my barely-there outfit. But instead of driving him wild with desire, all it does is fuel his anger.

“Kieran, what?—"

“Where is he?” he demands, his voice hard and determined.

My brows pinch with confusion.

“W-where is who?” I echo, but he’s not listening to me. Instead, he’s already barged past me. “Kieran, what the fuck are you doing?” I shout, chasing after him.

He blows through my apartment like a storm, throwing doors open and searching every inch.

“Kieran?”

When he’s finished, he marches up to me. His body is rigid, his chest heaving, and his nostrils flared. He stares down at me like he hates me.

My initial instinct is to wrap my arms around myself and cower, but then I remember that I haven’t done anything wrong, and I stand tall. Or at least as tall as my small body will allow.

“I trusted you,” he seethes quietly.

My frown deepens.

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you ever told me the truth? Have you just been lying to me all our lives? Do I even know you?”

Each question strikes me like a baseball bat to the chest.

“W-what?” I stutter, too shocked by his questions, by his anger to be able to form a coherent answer.

He shakes his head. His eyes run over me again, but it’s like he doesn’t even see me.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re fucking Brax?”

My chin drops in shock.

“Brax? I’m not fucking Brax,” I shriek.

“When you told me you had a date last night, I thought you were fucking joking.”

“I-I was.”

He sinks his hand into his pocket and brings his cell out with a flourish before unlocking it.

“Then what the fuck is this?”

He holds it up for me to see, and my stomach sinks into my feet.

It’s a photograph of me kissing Brax on the cheek last night. The image captures so much more intimacy than there really was.

It was a friendly, chaste kiss.

A laugh bubbles up, and I can’t stop it from spilling free.

I didn’t think it was possible, but Kieran’s expression hardens further.

My lips part to tell him everything, but my words are quickly swallowed when he beats me to it.

“Just because I called you a whore, it didn’t mean you needed to turn into one.”

His words are like a knife through my heart.

I stand there staring at him in disbelief as hurt rushes through my veins like a tsunami.

“How long has it been going on?”

“It’s not. Nothing is?—”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me that you came back? Did you come back for him?”

My mouth opens and closes like a fish, but the words are stuck.

His accusations are ridiculous.

“Kieran, I would never?—”

“Fuck. This is my fault, isn’t it?”

His constant changes of direction give me whiplash.

“I asked him to check in on you. You weren’t responding to me after I left and…FUCK,” he bellows, sinking his fingers into his hair and tugging until I’m sure he’s about to pull it out.

“Kieran, stop, please.”

This time, he’s the one to laugh, but there is no joy in it, only pain.

“I was going to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you tonight. I was going to tell you that the only reason I’ve never wanted anyone else is because I was waiting for you. I was going to tell you that you were it for me.”

He shakes his head as tears fall from my lashes. Finally, I allow my arms to fold around my ribs as if they’ll help to keep me together as a mixture of red-hot fury and utter disbelief battle within me.

“Kieran,” I whimper.

He glares at me. There is none of the love he mentioned previously. There is nothing but hurt and hate.

“No, I’m done, Effie. I’m so fucking done with all this bullshit. You want Brax? Fucking have him.”

Before I can respond, he’s gone, storming through my apartment.

“Kieran, stop, please,” I beg, but it doesn’t help.

The front door slams behind him, and my knees buckle.

“KIERAN,” I sob. But it’s too late.

He’s gone.