Page 126 of Play the Game

She blinks several times and inhales. Her ribs expand in my grip. “Hi.” She exhales, and it’s the sweetest scent I’ve ever smelled.

Without giving it much thought, I drag my hand up to her face and grip her cheek. My mouth falls to hers, and I smile to myself when she gives in right away. Her body relaxes, and her lips part. She lets me claim her in front of everyone, like she can’t fathom denying me.

After I pull away and the room comes back into view, I peer down at her.

“You look beautiful.”

My stomach fills with nerves, but they’re unfamiliar. They’re not the same ones I get before I take the ice. These are fragile, like they’re capable of doing much more than giving me a lasting feeling of anger or disappointment from playing a shitty game. These ones can destroy me.

“Wow,” she whispers into my ear. “That was awfully believable. Are you trying to prove something to someone?”

“It better be believable. It was real.”

She playfully rolls her eyes, and I grip her tighter around the waist. “And yeah, I am trying to prove something.”

Little does she know, I’m trying to prove something to her.

Fifty-Three

SCOTTIE

He’s goingto shatter my heart.

For the first time in my life, it feels full. I feel complete and safe. I can’t think of a time where I’ve ever felt like this, even with William near.

It’s like I have the world in my hands when, in reality, I don’t.

In fact, the only thing I have in my hand is my fake husband’s with a ring on his finger that isn’t permanent.

Emory whispers into my ear, “Do you want a drink?”

I shake my head. The last time I drank, I spiraled. I’m not doing that again.

“What about a biscotti?”

My mouth twitches. “They don’t have biscotti here.”

“Yes, they do.” A sly grin falls to his mouth. “And she tastes extra sweet.”

“Emory,” I whisper-warn.

He shrugs, and for some reason, I’m chock-full of butterflies. My feet shuffle against the glossy floor, and I smile at the familiar faces I see until we’re standing beside Rhodes with his tense shoulders and broody stance.

“Where’s my girl?” Malaki asks him when we step into the conversation.

Rhodes grunts. “At home with a new nanny.”

“Another new nanny?”

Rhodes glares at Malaki. “If you say one word about fucking the nanny, I’ll knock you clean on your ass.”

Malaki appears to be appalled at the statement. “I would never.”

“Yeah, you would,” Emory adds.

I giggle, and Emory grins down at me.

Malaki scoffs before grabbing my hand and placing a kiss on it. “You look stunning, Scottie.”

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