The Player I Hate to Love (Elite Players #2)

Chapter 1

Will

Our love story began with a lap dance. Sounds romantic, right? Technically, it started with a shit ton of alcohol in a crowded nightclub in New York City three years ago. A drunken Clarke’s smoking hot lap dance came a few hours before we said I do.

We flew private to Las Vegas with my younger sister and her annoying best friend on the plane. Mia sat on Ethan’s lap and kissed him, sucking his lip into her mouth. I seriously wanted to vomit at the sight of them together. My best friend since high school with my sweet little sister. Gross.

I accepted their relationship a long time ago.

Ethan even asked my permission to marry Mia.

But it was still fucking weird seeing them being so…

intimate. I turned away from the lovebirds, facing the other side of the plane.

Liam and Shane pounded shots with Clarke Murphy—my sister’s best friend and former co-worker.

This was Ethan’s bachelor party. But my sister insisted we combine our resources and party separately once we reached Las Vegas. I had a feeling the girls were not going anywhere. So much for our plans to spend the night in the champagne room. No way would I subject Mia to that kind of debauchery.

“You should slow down,” I told Clarke.

With the shot glass in front of her mouth, she leveled me with a glare.

“If I wanted your opinion, Romeo, I would have asked for it.”

I held up my hands and shrugged. “Just a suggestion. You won’t last through the night if you keep drinking.”

She sneered. “I’m fine.” Then she tipped her glass against Liam’s before taking another shot.

Liam gave me a look that said, Lay off, bro. He knew better than to interfere with Clarke and me. We had unresolved shit. And if anyone knew about female baggage, it was Liam. So he needed to back the fuck off with Clarke.

“Dude, c’mon,” I said to him.

He groaned and set the bottle of whiskey on the table. I tipped my head toward the back of the jet, gesturing for him to vacate his seat. With an annoyed look, he swapped places with me. Clarke rolled her eyes as I sat beside her.

“Go away, Will!”

“No can do, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me for the rest of the flight.”

“You’re such a buzzkill.”

I leaned against her warm body, pressing my lips to her earlobe. As I shoved her hair behind her ear, she sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. A moment passed between us. My skin sizzled from the sexy look she gave me. I knew she could feel it. That spark that had always been there between us.

Without a word, she stood up. Her legs brushed against mine as she exited the row. I reached out for her, and she swatted my hand away. Clarke headed toward the bathroom at the back of the plane.

Liam leaned over, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Give up on her already, man. She’s a pain in the ass.”

I laughed at his audacity. “Says the guy still pining over his ex, who fucked the best man on his wedding day.”

Liam’s expression darkened. “Fuck off.” He turned toward the window, his jaw clenched. “You know how to kill the mood, Romeo.”

“Sorry,” I shot back. “I didn’t mean that.”

He sighed. “Just fuck off.”

Liam stared out the window. Mia and Ethan were busy making out in the front of the plane. I glanced at Shane, who had his foot on the bench before him, reading a book. The dude was fucking weird. Another nerd like my sister.

I walked down the row toward the bathroom and leaned against the wall, waiting for Clarke to come out. Most of the time, Clarke hated me. Unless we were fucking. That was the only time she looked at me as if she didn’t want to claw my eyes out.

We were never good together. But sex with her was like an addiction, a drug I did not want to kick. I craved those brief moments with Clarke when she lowered her guard and let me in. But those were few and fleeting. She only agreed to spend the weekend with me because of Mia.

We’d met three years ago at a nightclub in Manhattan.

Clarke was carefree and uninhibited back then, but the real Clarke was cold and closed off.

No one could penetrate her tough exterior.

The beautiful brunette was a force by herself, and she clarified that men—especially me—did not factor into her plans.

Clarke opened the bathroom door, her mouth wide as she gazed at me. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

I nodded.

Her jaw ticked. “Which means you want something.”

“This weekend is about Mia and Ethan. I don’t want to fuck it up with us fighting.” I extended my hand to her. “Truce?”

She stared at my hand as if it were diseased. “Mia knows I hate you.”

“She doesn’t know why.”

Clarke slipped her fingers between mine. “Truce. But if you tell me what to do again, you will regret it.”

“Always so feisty,” I joked. “That’s what I like most about you.”

She turned her head and sighed. “Go back to your seat, Will.”

I liked it when Clarke bossed me around. It was hot. So I sat across from Shane, trying to ignore the bulge in my pants, wishing Clarke didn’t hate me so damn much.

After we touched down at McCarran Airport, we took a limousine to the Bellagio and checked into the hotel. We rode the elevator as a group, saying our goodbyes as my friends left for their respective floors.

Clarke leaned against the wall with her eyes closed. I wished she would have listened to me on the plane. She looked wasted. We still had dinner in a few hours at the steakhouse and an entire night of drinking. No way could Mia handle Clarke on her own.

When the doors opened to our floor, I slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed the handle of Clarke’s suitcase.

She swayed to the side, forced to grip my arm to maintain her balance.

Our eyes met, her blue irises watery and bloodshot.

I dragged her off the elevator and down the hall, switching my bag to my left shoulder so I could roll her suitcase and help her walk.

“What’s your room number?”

She slid her hand into her jeans pocket and handed me the keycard. Of course, we were room neighbors. Fate had a sick sense of humor. No matter how much distance we put between us, we somehow found our way back to each other.

I jammed the keycard into the slot on her door and pushed our way inside the room. Clarke tripped on her foot and fell forward, forcing me to let go of her suitcase to grab her. She squirmed in my arms but didn’t fight me as I held her against my chest and kicked the door closed behind us.

Deadweight in my arms, Clarke’s body slumped against mine as I carried her toward the bed. I lowered her onto the mattress and helped her strip off her shoes before she laid her head back on a stack of pillows.

I sat beside her, brushing my fingers against her warm cheek. She had one eye open, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Get some sleep,” I told her. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.”

She leaned into my hand and sighed. “Thanks, Will.”

I stayed with her for ten more minutes until I was sure she was sound asleep. Pocketing the keycard, I lifted my bag from the floor and glanced at her one last time before I left her room.