Page 127 of Play the Game

I smile. “Thank you.”

Emory pulls my hand away and clasps it with his. “That’s Mrs. Olson to you.”

“Oh, stop it,” I chide, squeezing his hand.

Everyone laughs, and even Rhodes snickers under his breath.

Emory doesn’t budge, though, and I wonder what has gotten into him. He’s laying it on thick tonight. In fact, he hasn’t stopped touching me since I walked into the event, which I appreciate because, to a girl like me, this is intimidating.

I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb, as if I havewhite trashstamped on my forehead, or there’s a scent following me, telling all the wealthy people in this building that I’m not from this world and that I don’t even belong.

The dress feels too expensive wrapped against my body, and Emory looks much too attractive to be mine.

“What are you thinking?” Emory whispers down into my ear, ignoring the conversation between Malaki, Kane, and Rhodes. Though, Rhodes is hardly speaking.

I swallow a lie and tell the truth. “Honestly?” I peek at him, and zero in on the little crevice between his eyebrows. “I’m thinking about how I don’t belong in this world.”

Something resembling anger flashes across his face. “How so?”

“Emory. Come on,” I whisper, raising an eyebrow before nodding at the mingling crowd. “Look at them, and then look at me.”

Even when I was getting ready with the girls, I couldn’t help but feel out of sorts. They’re used to this life and had no issues slipping into their elegant dresses, even more lavish than mine. The men are all well-groomed with their bow ties and amber liquor in crystal glasses. It’s a wonderful event, raising money for childhood cancer, but let’s face it, I don’t belong. In fact, I’m a charity case myself, and Emory is the fucking donator.

“Oh, I am,” he states. “In fact, I can’t look anywhere else.”

Emory pulls on my hand, and I follow after him, smiling at Hattie and Angela as they sip on fancy cocktails.

“Where are we going?”

Emory picks up the pace, nodding at a few of his teammates here and there. When we disappear into a quiet hall lined with elegant wallpaper, he gently pushes me against the wall and tips my chin backward.

“I don’t want to hear you say that ever again.”

“Say what?” I ask, scoffing. “The truth?”

“The truth?” Emory’s eyebrows furrow, and he bounces his attention all over my face. “Scottie, you are probably the only person at this event that actually belongs.”

I roll my eyes, feeling suddenly self-conscious yet angry at the same time. “Emory, I’m a fucking charity case. I donotbelong here.”

Both his hands cradle my cheeks. He speaks so low I can hardly hear him. “You are the most righteous person I have ever met.” I try to look away, but he squeezes my face gently. “I want you to look at me while I praise you, because it’s what you need.” He pauses. “Especially from your husband.”

“But you’re not?—”

His eyes flare for a split second. “I’m not doing a very good job as a husband if you think anything but highly of yourself.”

My heart beats hard.

It’s hard to think straight when Emory is this close.

He makes everything he says so believable that I find myself staying quiet and listening.

“You’re kind, giving, and empathetic. You appear unbothered by things that I know bother you—like when it’s chilly outside and I catch you taking an extra blanket to Shutter and wrapping him up like a burrito as he purrs.” My cheeks feel warm, but I still keep my eyes on Emory’s. “You take care of the team’s kids when no one asks you to, and you’re happy to do it.” Emory chuckles deeply, like he’s in disbelief. “You’re so god damn selfless that youmarriedme for money, and I would bet my life that you don’t need the money for yourself.”

I gulp, but I don’t deny it.

“You have a heart of gold.”

My chin wobbles.

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