Page 39 of The Game

“You have these things?”

“I’m not a total killjoy.” She smirks at me and heads toward the kitchen, and I rise up from the couch and follow her. She’s standing staring out the window at the lights of New York outside. It’s past 11 p.m. now.

“Are you okay?”

She turns her head to look at me, and her eyes are faintly pink. “My life is such a mess, Adam”—she spreads her hands—“You’re a good guy and I’m connected to a bunch of awful people, and I know we said we’d be friends, but I don’t want to drag you into something that puts you in danger.”

I walk over to where she’s standing by the countertop and reach up and touch a finger to her shoulder and she turns her head. She’s so strong and vulnerable all at once.I don’t want to give this up.

“I think we could both do with a friend we can trust in our lives right now. If you want to make it transactional, I’m helping you and you’re helping me, but it doesn’t feel transactional to me. I want to help. I enjoy your company, and we have fun together.”

She gives a choked little laugh. “Thanks for saying that. I enjoy your company, too. Sometimes I think I’ve managed to escape my past, and then it comes and bites me in the ass.”

“Your past?”

She hesitates, staring out of the window again. “Arty, you know?”

Why do I think she was going to say something else? “Yeah.” I give her hand a squeeze. “Would you like me to stay?”

Her eyes widen, and my face heats. I gesture around. “To keep you company, bunk down on your couch or something.”

She laughs. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. This place has five bedrooms.”

I laugh. “Of course it does. Do you ever use them all?”

“When my parents come to stay, yeah. My sister, sometimes.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yes. They’re all still in Russia. She’s a swimmer. Arty’s father might try and make trouble for them.” She chews her lip.

These glimpses into her life come out bit by bit, like puzzle pieces she’s carefully placing into my hands, one by one.

“We’ll sort Arty out.” I reach out and squeeze her forearm.

“Thanks for offering to stay. It’s nice having someone else around.” She blows out a long breath. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

She moves across the large open-plan kitchen and living area and heads down a long corridor that appears to have no doors at all. But then she stops and presses on a panel, revealing a room with a thick patterned carpet and textured cream walls.

“This is beautiful,” I say.

She grins and gestures to a door on the left-hand wall. “I had an awesome designer. The bathroom’s through there.”

She studies me for a second before taking a step forward and wrapping her arms around me. I almost jerk away. I haven’t been hugged by a woman like this in a long time, and my body stiffens reflexively. I force my hands up and rest them on her strong back, muscles shifting under my fingers.

“Thanks so much for today,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

My head brushes against hers as I nod. I breathe in roses and something more, a soft caramelly smell, like she’s been eating toffees.

And the sad softness I’ve been feeling for Anna morphs into something else entirely.

14

ANNA

When I step into Adam, he’s so solid and real. Next to my eyeline, a pulse thrums in his neck and I’m seized by a sudden urge to press my lips to it. I breathe in a faint smell of coffee and something metallic and sharp, like lingering wood smoke, as his hand presses between my shoulder blades, every finger strong on my spine. I should move away now, but I take one more inhale, and, as if he can sense me on the edge of retreat, his arms tighten momentarily. My chest is pressing into his hard pecs, and his long legs brush against mine. It’s not sexual exactly just …

“It’s my pleasure,” he rumbles, and his deep tone vibrates through me.

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