Page 124 of Play the Game

EMORY

I knotmy bow tie in the mirror for the third time, and yet it’s still too early to leave the house. I’ve been counting down the hours until the charity event but only because that’s when I get to see Scottie again.

She left in that hot rod of a car of hers hours ago to go to Vivian’s with her dress in tow and a pretty blush spread across her cheeks from the leftovers of what we were doing right before.

I can’t get enough of her.

I don’t know what it means, and I don’t want to question it.

All I know is that somehow, between the moment she cornered me in the arena bathroom and now, she’s become my favorite thing in the world.

I stare at the jumbled covers on our bed, loving that it’s all out of sorts because I had her in it hours ago. I smirk with the thought of how pointless it is for me to be making it again when I know damn well I’m going to strip her out of that dress I bought for her as soon as we’re home, but I move to do it anyway.

Swiping my hand down to snag a pillow off the floor, something crinkles beneath my shoe. I bend, as much as my dress pants allow, and slide the piece of paper out with my shoe until it comes into sight.

Standing upright, I grip the envelope and scan it quickly. I furrow my forehead as I reread the letterhead.

Deacon Law Firm.

It’s tempting. It really is.

A month ago, I would’ve torn into it without caring how that made Scottie feel.

But now?

I have second thoughts. It’s a betrayal of her privacy.

I place the envelope on top of the dresser and leave it in plain sight. If Scottie knows I’ve seen it and still doesn’t offer up some type of explanation, then I’ll question her.

After all, I’m her husband. We’re supposed to share things with each other, right?

I pause and look down at my ring finger.

That’s a double standard coming from me.

If we’re supposed to share things with each other, then I should probably stop being such a pussy and tell her how I really feel about her.

I sigh and swipe my keys from the dresser, heading to the event way too early. But standing here and arguing with myself over whether or not to tell my wife that I no longer want our marriage to be a ruse seems counterproductive.

“Olson.”Coach Jacobs nods at me while he swirls amber-colored liquid in his glass cup.

“Coach,” I say, nodding back at him.

We’re all dressed to perfection, him in a navy-blue suit, me in a black one. Some of the guys are dressed in other colors. Malaki is in a dusty-pink suit, which at first I thought looked ridiculous, but somehow, with his confidence, he pulls it off.

“I want to say something to you,” Coach lowers his voice, which is a change from the grumble I typically hear within the locker room. He gestures over to an empty cocktail table, and I follow after him.

I stare out into the crowd, waiting for Scottie and the rest of the women to walk in like they own the place. I’m jittery without her by my side, which is unusual for me.

“I want to thank you.”

I turn to Coach and shoot him an incredulous look. “For?”

He takes a sip of his whiskey. “You’ve been an asset to this team. I wasn’t sure when we signed you if it was the right move. The board went back and forth over the decision.” He places his cup down. “Especially after trading some…agitators.”

I snort when River’s face pops into my head. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

“With your background, I was hesitant because you seemed to be one too.”

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