Page 21 of Play Me

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Gray

“I’m sorry,” I say.

It’s the second time I’ve uttered those words to Astrid, and it’s the second time those words don’t seem to matter.

My head’s a fucking mess. I swear I’m hearing every second that passes. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It’s one beat closer to the end of the day—and the end of my window of opportunity to save this contract.

She gazes down the street with her arms wrapped around her stomach, and I’m honestly surprised she’s still standing here. That gives me an opening, probably the only one I’ll ever get, to convince her that I’m not the total asshole she thinks I am. Even if I question that myself right now.

“I was out of line.” I run a hand roughly over my head. “And I apologize.”

She drags her attention to me as if it’s the last thing she wants to do. When her eyes meet mine, there’s a coolness in them that slams into me. This isn’t just an angry woman—God knows I’ve seen my share of those—but this woman is hurt.

Fuck me.

“You don’t like me,” I say, squaring my shoulders to hers. “I can live with that. I don’t really like you either.”

She narrows her eyes, but not quite like she wants to kill me. Or maybe just not as brutally as she usually does.

“But this … thing between us,” I say, forging ahead, “it’s gotten out of hand. I regret behaving the way that I have, and it was wrong. There was no reason it needed to get so personal, and I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

Her chest rises and falls. She pulls back slightly, her posture stiffening. Her gaze flicks toward the ground.

“Renn said?—”

“I can imagine what he said,” she says, her voice rising along with her gaze.

“And it was predicated on what I told him, which might’ve been taken out of context.

Or allowed to be unexplained. Either way, you might make me feel a lot of ways, and it’s just …

complicated.” She hoists her purse onto her shoulder and shifts her weight.

“I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.

Did Renn make you do this? Then fine, I?—”

“No, he didn’t make me apologize to you.” My jaw tenses. “I think he’d be happier if I never spoke to you again.”

“Then why are you?”

That’s a good fucking question.

I twist my head side to side to release some pressure gathering in the back of my neck.

Her question is straightforward, and the answer was simple when I pleaded with her to talk to me today.

I need her on board so I can satisfy my financial agreements.

But now with the sun setting at her back and the gold flecks missing from her eyes, I’m not sure that’s the whole reason.

“I want to call a truce,” I say.

She scoffs, shaking her head like it’s a ridiculous suggestion.

“Let’s just start all over,” I say, my voice as soft as I can make it. “Clean slate.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I know Renn is important to you, and I’m making assumptions, but isn’t it eating you alive that you?—”

“Oh no.” The gold flecks are back. She points a finger at me. “Don’t you act like you know anything about me.”

“You literally told me that you never let Renn down, so that’s not speculation.”

She groans, unable to argue with me because I’m right.

“Just give this another chance,” I say. “Please.”

She moves by me, and I think she’s going to walk away. I reach for her, but drop my hand just as quickly as I raised it.

If I touch her, she’ll undoubtedly break my nose.

Her hair whips through the air as she spins on her heel, facing me again, and the flush in her cheeks causes her freckles to shine.

I’ve never been this close to her, or examined her this closely, which is why I notice the tiny stars that dot her ears.

It’s the only jewelry she wears aside from a tiny, thin cross around her neck.

Even scowling, she’s beautiful. What an unfair joke from the universe.

“I would love nothing more than to be able to deal with you,” she says.

“It would solve a few of the problems ruining my life right now. You see, I’m stuck in this place of financial versus mental solvency because I can’t do both simultaneously.

Apparently, I burned someone at the stake in my last life because it really feels like I’m being punished for something. ”

She’s talking so fast, so animatedly, that it’s hard to keep up. It’s also hard not to grin. But I don’t dare. I can’t risk that.

“I just need something to be easy,” she says, her voice growing louder. “I just need one thing to go right, and the more men I allow into my life, the more things get fucked up. And I just. Need. A. Fucking. Break. ”

She huffs, her whole body moving with the sound.

I take a step back for good measure.

“So tell me, Gray,” she says, moving toward me. “What can I do for you to make your life easier?”

She doesn’t mean that. If her pursed lips weren’t my first clue, the balled fists would give her away. It’s a total trap.

“Let’s—”

“Do not tell me to calm down,” she warns.

“I wouldn’t think of it.” Again, because the words were on the tip of my tongue. I toss up a prayer of gratitude for avoiding that trigger.

Two couples take a wide berth around us to enter Stupey’s.

They give Astrid a look like she’s a circus act, and that pisses me off.

I glare at them, silently telling them to mind their own damn business.

I know they’ve gotten the picture when they shuffle quickly into the restaurant without a second look.

Then I turn to Astrid. She appears to be two seconds from tilting her head to the sky and screaming.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” I suggest carefully, like I’m coaxing a rabid dog. “We’re blocking the door.”

To my surprise, she stays beside me as I head away from Stupey’s.

I take a moment to reconfigure what I want to say to her, because she’s flipped the script on me. Now I don’t know how to express the things I want to say and achieve the results I need. I’m also not totally sure what results I’m after, either.

Her words echo through my head, tugging on my brain. “I just need one little thing to go right, and the more men I allow into my life, the more things get fucked up. And I just. Need. A. Fucking. Break.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The row of buildings comes to an end. An offshoot of the sidewalk leads into a large green space filled with blooming southern magnolia trees, and their lemony scent reminds me of long days at the ranch, hiding in the tree lines from Dad so I wouldn’t have to help with chores.

I reach out and take a flower as we move by, feeling the glossy petals and fuzzy undersides against my fingers.

I’m not sure how to break the ice with Astrid, and I’m afraid that the wrong approach will not just break the ice but also shatter my chances of fixing this situation.

And I have to find a solution. I have to.

“I’m not heartless,” she says after we’ve walked a fair way down the path. When I glance over my shoulder at her, she’s staring straight ahead. But at least she’s regained her composure. “And I’m not a total bitch, either.”

That’s a curious start, but it’s a step forward.

“Well, I try my hardest …” I take a deep breath. If I’m really trying to make headway here, I gotta be honest. “No, that’s a lie. I haven’t tried very hard not to be a dick. I haven’t tried at all, really.”

“I’m glad to hear that because if you had, you’d be a complete failure.”

I consider her words as we turn around and head back toward the restaurant. I play them repeatedly, trying to locate the part tickling the back of my brain. She thinks I’m an asshole, which isn’t unexpected. Or a surprising revelation. And she wants me to know she’s not a bitch.

But why is it important to her for me to know that?

I spy her out of the corner of my eye. When she doesn’t think I’m watching, she almost looks like another person.

Her lips are soft and parted instead of being pressed together.

She moves more gently, less restrained. Her lashes appear longer, and her body is softened.

The armor is gone, and a feminine vulnerability takes its place.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her as a woman and not a wench. And that fucks with me.

“Fine,” she says as the shield locks in again. “I’ll admit that I haven’t necessarily been the easiest to work with either.”

“Look at you. You admitted it, and you’re still alive.”

She glares at me, making me laugh.

I pause beneath the magnolia trees and wait for her to stop, too. She takes a few steps before she halts, slowly turning to me. Stupey’s isn’t far ahead and, once we reach there, my chance will be over. Negotiate, Adler. That’s what’s needed here.

Compromise. My least favorite word.

Astrid studies me from just out of arm’s reach, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

This is a habit of hers that I haven’t thought much about until now .

Is she trying to protect herself with this posture?

Is she making herself smaller? I lick my bottom lip, trying to slow the questions storming through my brain.

She’s so … defensive. She’s too defensive for this to be solely about me.

“I’m tired of fighting with you,” she says evenly. “I can’t do it right now, which is probably what I was trying to communicate to Renn. Battling with you is too much on top of everything else.” She frowns. “You aren’t my biggest problem anymore, if that tells you anything.”

I quirk a brow but don’t comment. If I don’t speak, I can’t fuck this up … and I think we might be going in the right direction. But I don’t want to get my hopes up yet.

“If we can set some ground rules, we might be able to make this work,” she says carefully.

Easy, Adler. Go easy. I offer her the flower in my hand. She eyes it with suspicion before relenting. Her fingers take it from mine without touching me.

“But first,” she says, bringing the flower to her nose, “what’s in this for you?”

I shove a hand in my pocket and kick a rock down the sidewalk. “Honestly? I lost my bonus, and the only way to get it back is to get you back.”

“Right. I see.”

She drops the flower to her side. Her expression is blank, and I can’t quite decipher that. I also can’t spend time thinking about it.

“Either way, I owe you an apology,” I say earnestly. “I guess needing the cash is the vehicle to do that. Otherwise …” I take a deep breath and set my pride aside for just a second. “I’m not sure I would’ve bothered.”

“You would’ve just let me believe you’re an ass?”

I shrug. “Probably.”

She twists the flower between her fingers as she gazes at the horizon behind me. She’s somber and pensive, and I wonder just how delicate she might be behind all that piss and vinegar.

Slowly, she brings her attention back to me. She’s still pensive. But this time, she’s also resolved.

“At least you’re honest, I guess,” she says.

“I’m trying to be.” I go out on a limb and take a chance. “Can I ask what your conditions are?”

She brings the flower to her nose and takes a deep breath. Her lashes flutter closed as she pulls the petals away. Then she looks at me calmly and clearly. “You play rugby and leave the rest to me. I won’t tell you how to do your job, and you won’t tell me how to do mine.”

“Done.”

She blinks as if she’s surprised. “Okay. You’ll also have to cooperate with me. Answer my calls and provide me with the necessary information. And when I set up a schedule or make an appointment for you, you do it. You don’t reschedule everything or fail to show up.”

“So you want to be in control?”

“I have to be.”

The words carry on the breeze rippling through the trees. But they don’t get carried off fast enough for me not to hear the heaviness in them. The honesty .

Her gaze doesn’t break from mine.

My mouth goes dry as I mull her admission over in my mind.

“I have to be.” As I consider other things she’s said about not having her needs met and hating bullies …

it all starts to make sense. It begins to paint a picture that’s much different from the one I held until now.

But I have to put that aside for the time being.

“Can we call a truce?” I ask again. “Just until the season is over, then you can resume all hatred.”

The corner of her lip curls toward the sky. “I still don’t like you.”

I chuckle. “Good, because I still don’t like you either.”

“Great.”

“Great.”

“A truce it is,” she says, studying me. “But the first time you turn around and bite my head off for no good reason, I’ll have Gianna taser you.”

Relief washes away the thousand-pound boulder that’s been sitting on my shoulders all day. I can finally breathe again. Thank God.

She takes a long, deep breath and blows it out slowly. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Deal.” She pulls out her phone. “I need to let Renn know before he hires someone else to take my place.”

Astrid taps away on her screen, then pauses, then taps again. She laughs and rolls her eyes. All the while, I’m waiting for some indication that it’s official and I’m getting paid.

“Dammit,” she says, looking up at me.

My heart drops. “What?”

“We have to FaceTime him.”

“Who?”

“Renn. Who else would I be talking about?” She holds her phone up and stands next to me. “I don’t think he believes I’m doing this willingly.”

The call connects, and Renn’s face appears on the screen.

“Well, if this isn’t a sight,” he says.

“Hey,” I say, hoping it doesn’t sound as curt to him as it does in my head.

“So Astrid tells me you’re working together again. Is that right?”

I nod. “That’s right. We’ve aired our grievances, and we’re really on the same page this time.”

“You’re good with this, too, Astrid?” Renn asks.

She glances at me. “Yeah. I apologize for the drama. I feel goofy about that.”

“Not a problem, Astrid. It’s a bit of a problem for Gray, but not you.” Renn grins at me. “Behave, Adler.”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

“Good night,” Renn says, and then he’s gone.

I heave a breath, relief washing over me in waves. I’m not entirely sure how I managed to pull this off. However, the important thing is that I did, and it’s done—and money should be hitting my account soon.

Astrid seems relieved, too.

“I’ll call you tomorrow and find a good time to get together,” she says.

“For what?”

She grins with a little mischievous smile. “So I can get your life together, Adler. Your ass is mine now.”

My stomach tightens, but not out of frustration. “You think so?”

“Oh, I know so … sweetheart.”

With a smile that dances through my veins, she turns and leaves me standing beneath the magnolia trees.