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Playing for Keeps (Playing For #1) by J.C. Grant Read Online (FREE)

Playing for Keeps (Playing For #1) by J.C. Grant

Read Playing for Keeps (Playing For, #1) by J.C. Grant online free here.

I didn’t know why I chose this, being in a relationship. It was my ridiculous impulse to try to fit in.

But there I was, humiliated by a guy I didn’t give a shit about.

Honestly, I never cared about any of them. I couldn’t even manage to crush on someone. I just needed a sexual trust. That was the most I could hope for, and that was all I was capable of.

Two guys broke something in me when I was eight. Holding me down. Taking turns. Violating me. Over and over. I was irreparable. Emotionally, something disconnected, separated. I mean, I still knew I loved my mother, but I could only feel it when something bad happened to her. Something life threatening. Tendrils of it would permeate the invisible barrier inside me for a brief moment before fading away again.

My current situation was really my own fault. I looked for men who knew how to fuck, but were too shallow, too self-absorbed to really notice me. So they wouldn’t notice how damaged I was, how I never responded to them and never felt anything for them.

I only went out with Zach so I wouldn’t seem anti-social. Out of my options, he was the best choice for me. None of them could handle the real me. The real me would eat them alive. I knew Zach wasn’t strong enough, but he was extremely self-centered, good in bed, and discreet.

I trusted him with my body and not to cheat.

But I was wrong.

Now my image was on Perez Hilton’s site.

Well… my hair and hands were at least, since I covered my face.

“The Jilted Girlfriend Can’t Compete.”

Why the fuck would I compete? He cheated…. Shouldn’t they focus on her, not me?

My now ex got the attention of a pop diva and was getting engaged after cheating on me with her.

At least they don’t know my name.

I wasn’t playing this ‘fit in and be nice’ bullshit anymore.

Going out on dates to be social or because a friend of a friend, blah, blah, blah.

It’s always the same.

“Can I get your number?”

“Do you want to get coffee?”




And the ones who think they’re cute waiting days to call.

“Hey. It’s me. You want to go out tonight?”

Like I can remember who they are, much less what they look like twenty-four hours later, like they’re somehow special.

But that was why I kept putting myself in this position. Because I wanted something special, to feel something for someone—love, angst, passion, lust.

I wanted someone who could get in and get past that wall inside me. So far, that person didn’t seem to exist. It was going to have be someone who understood me, someone who could handle me, if they had any chance of making me feel something.



As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I knew this was going to be a nightmare. I dreaded it. No, that wasn’t true. I hated it, especially today. It was time for my weekly grocery trip, but this wasn’t my usual store. That store, my store, was walking distance from my place, which was a little two-bed, one-bath bungalow in Silver Lake, located an hour and a half away from here with traffic. Today my temp job sent me to the valley, which was how I ended up at Ralph’s grocery store in Studio City. I wouldn’t have stopped if I had more than mustard and ice at home. I just needed a few essentials to get me through the week, and maybe something to help me unwind after my day.