Page 25 of Playing Flirty

“Many hands make light work.”

“Mr. Markham.” Shaun rounded the corner and turned into our shared cubicle.

Our boss straightened, taking a step back. “Mr. Ashdern.”

“Sorry to eavesdrop, but I, uh, heard you mentioning staying late.” Shaun widened his eyes in my direction for a split second before narrowing them. “I… uhm… I need to know because Rose promised Neema she’d help with the wedding arrangements tonight.” He turned to Markham and offered him a charming smile. “Maybe I could join you. Three heads are better than two?”

“Oh,” Mr. Markham said and tutted.

When I didn’t respond, Shaun continued, “Or I could help her finish it up at our place before we jump into the dresses and flower arrangements. We’ll have it done long before midnight. Right, Rose?”

I nodded and met Markham’s cold gaze. “Sounds great.”

When Shaun remained unmoving beside my desk, Mr. Markham lifted his chin and stalked off.

I slumped into my chair.Just get through the last of the day for game night.

Only once I walked into Shaun’s apartment did it hit me that it was the first time I’d seen William since we… I don’t know… whatever it was that happened when he was… nice. When he’d looked at me with eyes filled with light and playfulness and…

Did I imagine it all?

Perhaps in my spiral of rejection and shame, I saw something that wasn’t there.

I must have because he didn’t even turn around to greet me. Although that wasn’t unusual for him. He tutted at his screen, and I did what I’d usually do. I approached him, but with caution, as though he were a feral and unpredictable creature. After the last time we saw each other, it felt that way.

“Hey…” I said.

The eyebrow closest to me cocked upward as he glanced away from his screen and at my feet. “How’s the ankle?”

“Mostly better.” The overwhelming urge to address the unspoken lingered between us. “Thanks again for the other night. I owe you.”

His focus returned to his game, and the hand resting on his mouse flexed. “I look forward to you paying up.”

I leaned my hip against his desk, something I’d done plenty of times before but only to annoy him. That wasn’t the case anymore. Perhaps we were done playing dirty. Perhaps Shaun’s little game of Playing Nice could continue. “What are you playing? Is it for work?”

One arm zapped behind his head, and he dragged his fingers through his messy dark hair. “Kinda. I’m doing research for an idea I’m toying around with.” A sheepish grin spread across his face, and his cheeks pinkened. “Our talk the other night got me thinking about what I want and what I’d like to develop next.”

My mouth must have dropped open in excitement because a chuckle escaped him. If it was anywhere near as good asWalk of Death, it would have me glued to my screen for at least forty-eight hours.

“Tell me!” I demanded.

“Nope. Not yet. It needs to be perfect.” He rolled backward and swung his chair around to face me.

I grumbled. “If you let me play yours, I’ll let you play mine.”

A wicked expression covered his face.

I cleared my throat. “I have a board game.” My chest heated in the most pleasant way. It was weird acknowledging it out loud when I had spent so much of my mental capacity denying it.

William’s mouth dropped open, and his eyebrows popped up. “Your game? You’ll let me play it?”

His soft enthusiasm only increased the warmth spreading through me at the thought of someone playing my game. But I couldn’t ruminate about that. It was stupid and childish. Before he could say anything more, I interrupted him.

“Anyway, when your game is ready, say you’ll let me play it immediately? Please. I beg. I concede. You’d win all the rounds of Playing Nice for the foreseeable future and…”

William bit down on his lip, his dimple greeting me. “You’ll be the first to know.”

He held my gaze, his eyes searching mine. I had no idea what he was looking for or what he’d find. He opened his mouth again but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Patrick’s voice at the front door. Like thunder. William spun around and resumed his game without another word.

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