Page 80 of Play the Last Card

An older gentleman appears, with a kind smile and even kinder eyes. “Hi son. Hello Ivy, nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” My voice is quiet and I know that everyone can hear my nerves. I clear my throat and plaster on my best smile. “Nice to meet you guys, too.”

“Are you going to be free in a few weekends time? We’re coming to town and would love to take you both out for a dinner on the—”

“I’ll let you know, Mom.” Scott cuts her off. Shame hits my gut as I realize going for dinner with his parents in the city would break our agreement to keep this thing between us quiet.

No dinners out, no public dates, no press.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Oh, okay.” Annabel exchanges the briefest of looks with Jason before she recovers and looks back at Scott. “Anyway honey, we’re going out on a boat today with the Palmers so I wanted to call for the pregame tradition before I get out there and have no reception.”

Scott relaxes, smiling. “The yellow ones, with the tiny hotdogs.”

“Excellent choice, son.” Jason comments.

“Oh, I loved those ones. Got them on sale at Target a few years ago. They were so cute, I couldn’t resist.” Annabel adds.

Scott’s thumb starts to trace circles on my arm. “Thanks for calling you guys. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Go get them, son. Good luck.” Jason smiles and raises the coffee mug he’s holding in a ‘cheers’.

The phone goes dead and I wriggle out of Scott’s grasp, picking up my plate and making my way back around the island to the sink. Scott follows, placing in his dishes after mine. Then as if he can sense I was planning an escape, he grabs my hips and twirls me to face him.

“Sorry,” he says. “We don’t have to go out for dinner. I’ll tell them we want low key and we can have dinner at my place.”

Guilt swirls in my stomach and I struggle to take a deep breath. “It’s okay. We can—”

I go to tell him that we can go for dinner with them but the words get caught in my throat. I can’t bring myself to make that promise to him. I wish I could but in the back of my mind, I still think about the paparazzi that showed up at the hospital, or how they followed me around that week.

Scott drops his forehead to mine and tightens his arms around me. “I love waking up with you,” he says, changing the subject.

So I do my best to push the guilt away and meet his gaze. I press up on my toes and touch my lips to his jaw.

“I love waking up with you, too,” I whisper.

He sways us on the spot. No music. Him in no shirt and sweatpants, me in one of the dress shirts that has found a home in my closet over the last week. We just sway.

Somewhere, outside the bubble, his commitments call and he slowly pulls away from me.

“I gotta go to work,” he murmurs. I offer a hum in return, lifting my hands and running my fingers through his hair. “Wanna shower with me first?”

I smile, accepting the kiss he drops on my lips. “Yes, please.”

***

I do my best to focus on the three cards left in my hand. It’s harder than you think. My mind keeps wandering back to Scott and waking up with him and his tongue between my legs.

God.

I need to focus.

Pops puts down a red four and I sigh. I pick up a card and he smirks. With two cards to my now four left, I just know he’s going to win. Damn it. I’m going to have to go get him the hamburger we bet on for lunch now. So much for sticking to his diet.

An alarm blares through the room. I watch as Pops hastily reaches across to his bedside table to turn it off.

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