Page 33 of Play Me
“Bye.”
The silence wraps around me, sucking the air out of my lungs. It’s going to be torture sharing space with Gray—especially when I’m already on edge. But if I don’t deal with this asshole, I won’t have the money to deal with the other one.
Twenty thousand dollars?My stomach churns, and I shove the thought out of my mind.
“Go on,” I mutter, turning the car off and grabbing my bag. “Get this over with.”
I get out, locking up behind me, and start up the long sidewalk to the four apartments on this block. They’re more like townhomes from this angle, each with a garage and a small porch. A child plays with a puppy on one side of Gray’s home. On the other, an older man sits on a porch swing, smoking a cigar. He waves like we’re old friends, and I can’t help but smile at him in return.
Gray’s front stoop is the only one with no welcome mat or flowerpot.Seems fitting.
Blood thunders in my ears as I raise my fist to knock. I lift my chin, hiding any vulnerability that might be streaked across myfeatures, and rap against the door. I might be anxious, but he can never know that.
After a few seconds, the door swings open, and I drag in a quick breath.Of course, he’s shirtless.
I don’t allow my gaze to drop from his eyes. “Where are the boxes?”
He steps aside, face blank, and motions for me to enter. “In the corner.”
“Great.”
I march by him as if he’s not standing in a pair of shorts and bare feet, and with his hair damp from the shower. I’d bet he dressed, or undressed, perhaps, like this just to see if it would bother me. He’ll just have to try harder if he wants a reaction out of me. I’m laser-focused on the boxes and not on his body.I wonder ifthatbothershim.
His apartment is cool but smells warm, like body wash and cinnamon. It’s cozier than I expected. A few nice touches—a plant, a couple of pictures, and a candle—and this place could pass as a real home.
The door slamming makes me jump. This is a lot of stimuli to process at once.
I drop my bag onto the sofa and straighten my shirt, gathering my composure. “Are there any boxes you don’t want me to open?”
“Nah.”
I roll my eyes with my back to him, trying to create a plan. The mere sight of the boxes so haphazardly tossed into the corner of the room melts my brain. He’s just lived like this for days.How?
He really is an animal.
“So just sort through them and put the stuff wherever I want to put it?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
I huff, grabbing one box on top of the stack and hauling it to the floor. Gray sits at the kitchen island with a permanent marker in his hand, signing papers for the media department. Neither of us speaks or even looks at the other.
My chest cinches like a belt is strapped around it, as if it’s bracing me for the moment the brittle air between us shatters. An invisible pressure makes it difficult to breathe.
The top of the first box is already open. I peer inside … and try not to gasp. A myriad of items are crammed inside like a toddler was given the task. A skillet is wedged between a bathroom towel and a book. Bottles of supplements are strewn across the bottom.Are all the boxes like this?I open another one and find a bottle of shampoo hanging out with a coffee maker.
For a moment, all I can do is stare. This mess prickles every bit of my organizational-loving heart. Gray doesn’t need an assistant. The guy needs a mother.
I take a long, deep breath.Think of it as an opportunity to set something right in the world so you don’t crash out—even if that something is just Gray’s socks.Not sure where to start, I pull a smaller box from beneath a pair of shorts that seem to have been casually tossed on the stack like the star on a strange version of a Christmas tree. It’s lighter and rattles slightly. I open it carefully.
“Hey,” I say, pulling out the contents. “This is cool.”
A chessboard that appears to be handmade with a dark wood and teal-hued resin catches the light above me. A drawer is made into the bottom to hold the chess pieces. It’s heavy and solid and beautiful—and, thankfully, undamaged.
I glance up and catch Gray watching me. It’s only now that I realize I’ve been talking out loud.
