Page 45 of The Games We Play
My hands trembled as I fully clasped hers, desperate for any connection, any small piece of her that I could still hold onto.
The past month had drained me, like my energy had been leeched by something else.
“I’ll do anything,” I vowed, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ll prove it. Just please, Penny. Give me a second chance.”
For a moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then, ever so slightly, her posture softened.
She leaned in, closing the space between us, her breath warm against my skin.
I could smell her—vanilla and spice, the scent that had been imprinted in my memory. It was ironic how she smelled like vanilla, because she was anything but.
Her eyes glistened, whether from exhaustion or the weight of everything between us, I couldn’t tell.
Every muscle in my body ached to reach out, to cup her face and wipe away the tears that threatened to spill.
Instead, I closed my eyes for a fleeting second, breathing her in, savoring the nearness, the sliver of hope that still lingered in the air.
I wanted this.Her.
I was shit at using words, but I needed to find the right ones now.
“Tell me…” My voice barely broke the space between us. My eyes searched hers, pleading, willing her to let me in.
Something flickered across her face—a shadow of something softer, something real—before she sat back, crossing her arms over her chest.
I recoiled slightly, left grasping at the empty space.
“I’ll give you onechance,” she said, holding up a single finger.
“That’s all I need,” I replied confidently. I’d done enough thinking and ruminating to know that I was capable of proving myself.
With a sharp sniffle, Penny nodded, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her crew neck. Then there was a hint of a smile, like she was thinking of the perfect plot, the perfect punishment.
The smile wasn’t sweet or forgiving; it was devious.
“You better learn to grovel, bitch.”
Beneath the bite, I felt it—a crack in the armor.A small opening, a chance she hadn’t slammed the door shut completely.
She was hurt. Scorned.
But she wasn’t walking away.
A slow, determined smirk tugged at my lips as I leaned in, resting my forearms on the table.
“I’d move fucking mountains,” I swore, my voice dropping low, rough with conviction. “Walk barefoot across hot coals. Brand my skin with your initials, Penny.” My fingers curled into fists. “You have no idea how goddamn determined I am.”
A spark flickered behind her eyes, something unreadable, something that felt an awful lot like intrigue.
The fire inside me ignited, adrenaline pumping hot through my veins.
Game on.
13
MAC
