Page 114 of Play Me
I chuckle, knowing it won’t do a damn bit of good to argue with her—not when she has this look in her eye. But I try, anyway.
“You realize that every time we’re together doesn’t mean we’re working, right?” I ask, taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “I didn’t ask you to come here as my coworker. I mean, if you want to dress in a secretary’s skirt or nurse’s outfit, then that’s a different story. That I’ll accept.”
Astrid smacks me, laughing, as I sit and pull her down onto my lap. She shifts around, getting comfortable against my chest. Her ass grinds on my cock but I don’t think it’s intentional. It doesn’t stop it from getting hard, though.
“Your game went well yesterday, right?” she asks, holding our laced fingers in the air. “Look at this. You have so many bruises.”
“Comes with the territory.”
“Do you ever worry that you’ll be permanently damaged?”
I take a deep breath. “No. Not really. Rugby is relatively safe.”
“In my professional opinion, I disagree.”
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “Your professional opinion, huh?”
“When you add the number of years I worked for Renn and now you, I’ve been in this industry for a long damn time. I think I qualify as a pro, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
She giggles. “I’ll pretend you meant that as a term of endearment, so I don’t have to kick your ass.”
Good. Because that’s how I meant it.
We sit together in the quiet, her head laying between my collar and jaw, and our fingers tangling lazily like neither of us wants to hold on tight or let go.
As I watch our fingers move, I realize it’s a metaphor for the two of us. We aren’t really together. But we aren’t exactly single, either. And maybe it doesn’t matter what our official status is because it doesn’t change anything for me. I’m riding this fucker out to see where it goes. We may not have known each other that long, but I’ve lost too many years to being unhappy.And this?This is motherfucking happiness.
Astrid drops her hand from mine and lets it fall to the couch. I watch it drift to the cushion and feel my heart go right along with it. Then it hits me.
If I have any chance of holding her hand, I have to make sure mine is empty first.
There’s no way around it.
“I got a letter from Joe today,” she says. “Well, it was a copy of the one that he sent to the landlord’s attorney.”
“Oh, yeah? What did it say?”
“Well, I can’t read legalese, but I think it said fuck around and find out.”
I laugh, my chest shaking. “Yeah, that sounds like a Joe letter.”
“I pray to God that I never get one. I’d pee my pants.” She leans her head up and looks toward the kitchen. “Your phonehas been buzzing since I got here. Do you hear it or am I hearing things?”
“It’s the fucking team chat,” I say, sitting up, too, and groaning. “The last time I looked, they—meaning Nico and Ridge—were trying to put together the top fifty sports movies of all time. And you’d think they were arguing about something that fucking matters because these assholes take it to the next level.”
She shakes her head, amused. Then climbs off the couch and sets up my chessboard. Each piece gives a soft thud as it takes its square. There’s a cadence to it, like a heartbeat, that adds to the peace in the room around us.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
I rest my elbows on my knees. “I was thinking about how I could get used to this. I’m not saying anything crazy, just that I enjoy having you here. Playing chess with you. Going out to eat.” I pause, smirking. “Fucking.”
She laughs, scooting to the other side of the coffee table. “I’m glad you added that on the end because I was starting to think you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Impossible.”
Her gaze flickers to the ground before she looks at me through her thick lashes. The vulnerability in them slices through my heart. “I could get used to this, too, you know.”
