Page 23 of The Long Game

I should have been going in the opposite direction. Probably move away. To a different town.

I knew she’d bring only trouble with her suits and her heels and her plans to drive the team to its full potential or some bullshit I suspected would only bring attention I didn’t need or want.

And yet, I found myself crossing my yard and banging my fist on the window of her car.

Ignoring the sense of déjà vu, I waited for the woman curled up in the driver’s seat to react. Her head was once again against the window, and her lips were parted, but her expression was lax with sleep. My eyes betrayed me, dipping down her body and noticing how her arms hugged her bare legs. I cursed under my breath. She was wearing next to nothing. Just some flimsy silky sleep set that left very little to the imagination.

Something deep in my gut flared.

Was she mad? September was on the mild side in this area, but at night, temperatures could decrease at least twenty degrees. She could—

Ah, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t care whether this woman was cold or not.

I ripped my gaze from all that skin on display and banged on the window again. Much, much harder.

She awoke with a jolt.

Her whole body jumped as she clutched her meager top, looking so disoriented and frightened that for an instant I felt bad. Me. Feeling remorseful when she was being so recklessly irresponsible.

Her eyes found me. “You again,” she scoffed, her words muffled by the glass. “You scared me! What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

“What am I doing?” I repeated, flabbergasted. “Better question is, what in the world do you think you are doing sleeping in your car like this? Are you mad?”

“What I do is none of your business.” She turned her head, giving me her profile.

With a slow exhale, I placed my hand on the roof of the car and leaned closer. “You are camped in my yard, that makes you my business. Can you roll down the window so we don’t have to yell at each other?”

“Our yard,” she said, gaze on the windshield. “And you’re always yelling. Glass or not.”

My exasperation sparked. “Adalyn,” I said, and that word alone was somehow enough for her to shake her head and grudgingly press the button.

Once the window was down, she pinned me with an unimpressed glance. “So? What can I help you with?”

My brows shot to the top of my head. “Pardon me?”

“Oh, where are my manners.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Good morning, neighbor. May I help you with something on this crisp and beautiful morning?” Her lips curled up in what was the phoniest smile I’d ever seen. “That better?”

I blinked at the woman. Stared, really. I was at a loss. Again. Never—not even once—in my life had anyone managed to unarm me like this woman did. And I’d met some sneaky bastards throughout my career.

In my silence, she pointed at my hand. “Is that coffee for me? If so, no thanks. Not only do I not accept things from strangers but I don’t trust you.”

I looked down, noticing for the first time that I had brought my mug with me. Christ. What was up with me? “I’m not a stranger.” I returned my gaze to hers. “And believe me, I wouldn’t care to spike your drink or whatever the fuck you’re implying. I’ve seen you unconscious and you’re just as much work as awake. If not more.”

“I keep forgetting how annoying your kind are.”

My kind. “English?”

“Pompous players who believe the sun rises and sets on them.” A shrug of a shoulder. “And by the way? You are a stranger. The only thing I know about you is your name and that you enjoy shoutingat people, specifically women, while they sit in cars.” She lowered her voice. “Sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen if you ask me.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. She thought she could deflect by insulting me. “I asked you a question.”

“I might have missed it with all the aggressive yelling and intrusive pounding.” Her lips pursed. “Actually, you—”

“Cut the goddamn bullshit, darling.”

Her shoulders hiked up. “I have a name—”

“Oh, I know that,” I interjected before she sidetracked me again. “I goddamn told you, Adalyn. I told you that you wouldn’t make it a night in that bloody shack. So tell me, huh? Why are you sleeping out here? In your car. I’m sure you have a good reason.”

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