Page 72 of Power Play

Our heavy footsteps echo through the otherwise silent lobby. Trey and T step into the elevator with me, the other guys staying down to secure the area.

“So now what?” I ask, flicking my gaze from Trey's reflection to T's.

T drapes a heavy arm across my shoulders. “Now we wait.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Trey

November 8th

She paces from one side of the condo to the other, rich brownie colored hair floating in her wake. Fingers steepled beneath my chin, I track each of her movements while monitoring the TV plus the two computer screens set up along the coffee table.

Election Day.

“I’m going to puke,” Randi says for the tenth time in the last hour. “Can someone ask that doctor lady to prescribe me some Xanax?”

Tank chuckles from the nest he set up hours ago. Candy wrappers litter the floor around the chair. He's a nervous eater, what can I say? “Come on now, Randi. We have hours left of this. Sit down, relax.”

“Relax?” she screeches. I cringe at the sharp sound cutting into my eardrums. “I think I'm having a heart attack. What are the signs again?”

“Do not WebMD it,” I say over the TV. “You're fine, Mess. I agree with Tank, sit your ass down.”

“You two are the worst friends ever. I'll go die alone in my bedroom so I don't interrupt whatever you're doing which makes you too busy to be concerned about my failing health.”

Wow. I roll my eyes to the ceiling. Sure as hell hope Randi’s daughter didn't get her dramatics.

The bedroom door slams shut. Tank looks to the closed door, then back at me.

“Give her some time. She's fine,” I mutter. “When do we need to leave for that watch party she has to attend?”

“Few hours from now. It'd be nice if we knew before we left. Not sure the partygoers are ready for that.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward the bedroom. “She's living up to the name you gave her.”

I smirk and turn back to the screens. As the California numbers scroll across the bottom, the hairs on the back of my neck stand, a tingling feeling of being watched itching up my spine. Peeling my gaze from the screen, I meet Tank’s dark eyes.

“Creeper. What?”

“How's that going?” He tilts his head back. “Ending it with her.”

“Motherfucking terrible,” I grit out. “I don't blame you though, if that's what you’re worried about.”

“I'm not. I’m worried about my friend, actually.”Aw, big guy has a big heart.“I know how hard the shit with Rachel affected you. That's why I didn't stop you two, the flirting. For the first time in a year, you were acting normal. Don't let this drag you back down.”

I sigh, lean back against the couch, and scrub a hand over my face. He's right about the gloom cloud that hung over my head after Rachel left me for Shawn. Even more right about Randi being the one to snap me out of it.

“I won't,” I say after a beat.

“Don't let it distract you either.”

“I know.”

“Do not give me a reason to fire your ass, Trey.” I whip my head to the right. “You know I'd have to if you break the rules, even if you are my best friend. Don't put me in that situation, got it?”

My chin dips in a minuscule nod.

I have to be strong and keep my hands off her if she wins. No,whenshe wins. I can't risk the entire team's job, her safety, and my relationship with my best friend. Even if staying away from her hurts like a motherfucking kick to the balls with a steel toe.

Part of me hopes they don't win; that way, I won't have to be around the one woman I want but can't have day after day. I'm already dreading the torture those four years will turn into.

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