Page 31 of Play Me

Gray’s gaze drops to mine, and immediately, I sense his concern about leaving me. I fight the urge to reach out and touch his hand … as that would make things awkward for sure.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” I say, nodding.

He nods, steals a look at Joe, then ducks out. When I turn back to Joe, he’s reading through the letter with a sour look on his face.

“What’s this about?” he asks, his voice full of gravel. “Ex-boyfriend, I’m guessing.”

“How’d you know?”

He looks at me over the top of the paper. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Grab a seat.”

I settle into a brown pleather chair that smells faintly of cigar smoke. My jeans squeak against the material like new sneakers down a corridor. I’m not comfortable, but I don’t dare move another inch lest I sound like a child.

“Were you ever on this lease?” Joe asks.

“No. Never. Trace already lived there when I moved in. I did pay rent a couple of times, but I never signed anything.” A cold knot forms in my stomach. “And Trace kicked me out and had another woman living there for I don’t know how long after I left.”

Joe places the paper on top of the envelope and grabs a pen. “Do you have the dates of when you moved in and out?”

“Um, I moved in about six years ago in October and moved out in March four years ago. If you want exact dates, I can get them.”

He scribbles notes on a legal pad. “No, that’s fine.” He motions toward a smaller pad of paper and a pencil on the corner of his desk. “Write down your contact information there for me. Name, phone, address, and email.”

I take it and jot down my details.

“I’ll take care of this,” he says, watching me as I put his things back on his desk. “You’ll get a copy of all communications either by mail or email.”

The door opens behind me and footsteps sound through Betty’s office.

I lick my lips. “Before we get the ball rolling, how much do you charge? Because I might have to make payments, if you can do that. If not, I have a credit card, but I’d rather not pay that way if I can help it.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Piper said if it’s cold, it’s your fault,” Gray says, plopping a bag on Joe’s desktop. “You were supposed to pick it up an hour ago.”

Joe rolls his eyes. “Piper can settle the hell down. I paid for it, so what’s it to her?” He peers into the bag with chunky fingers. “Looks like they got it right, for once.”

Gray winks at me.

“I’m gonna eat,” Joe says. “You two get the hell out of here. It was nice to meet you, Astrid.”

“But we didn’t get a chance to discuss payments,” I say, my heart pattering.

Joe looks at Gray. “Get her outta here, will ya?”

“Let’s go,” Gray says, motioning with his head to follow him.

“But …”

“Come on.” Gray’s tone has a warning embedded in the notes. “See ya, Joe.”

“Goodbye.”

I stand, feeling an urgency to settle the payment terms, because I’m not sure what Joe expects.

It complicates it more that he’s Gray’s friend.

So if I can’t pay, that could hurt my relationship with Gray, which, in turn, could hurt my relationship with Renn.

Before I can start a protest, Joe takes a bite of his sandwich and turns his attention to his computer.

“Thank you, Joe,” I say, my voice wobbling.

If he hears me, he doesn’t show it. What the hell?

I run various scenarios through my head as we walk back to the truck. The taillights blink as Gray unlocks the door, and I climb into the cab, having decided that I’ll send a couple of hundred dollars to Joe when I get home. At least that’ll be something, and we can go from there.

“I grabbed us lunch,” Gray says as we get our buckles fastened. “Didn’t know what you wanted, but you got a ham and cheese. Piper’s daughter is also allergic to nuts, so they’re safe for you to eat.”

My throat is thick with emotion as I look at his expressive brown eyes.

It’s hard to accept that this Gray exists in the same body as the Gray that I met at the gas station. I never would’ve thought that asshole could be this considerate—about my allergy, Joe, and bringing me to Sugar Creek. I keep looking for the catch but come up empty.

The engine roars to life, and we start back the way we came.

“Ready to head to my brother’s for a little bit?” Gray asks.

I smirk. “Do you mean the ranch?”

He fires me a playful, dirty look. “Don’t start.”

I laugh. “Of course, I don’t mind. You brought me here, after all. Thank you again.”

“Thank me by getting my sandwich out, please.”

“Oh. Sure.”

I pull out two sandwiches and decide they’re the same. So I unwrap one of them, leaving the wrapper gathered at the bottom, and offer it to Gray. He reaches for it, his knuckles grazing mine as he takes it from me.

My eyes dart away from his. Think of something to say. “Joe and I didn’t discuss the price of his services, and I’m worried about it.”

Gray chews slowly. “Well, don’t.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Joe had a daughter my mom’s age,” he says after swallowing.

“Her name was Grace, I think, and she was friends with Mom. Grace had a boyfriend who … hurt her.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Let’s put it like that. So you could say that Joe has a soft spot for women who are getting fucked over by men. ”

I frown, imagining Joe as a father to a young girl. He’s hard and brusque, but something tells me he’s a great father. One who heals rather than destroys young souls.

“It’s his way of helping settle the score or something,” Gray says. “If you feel like you must do something, just write him a note. Nothing too mushy. That’ll be all he needs.”

Gray stops at a sign and takes a deep breath, then he turns to me.

Our gazes connect. When I look at him this time, it doesn’t quite feel like we’re just coworkers.

It doesn’t seem like we’re two people who secretly hate each other anymore, either.

Maybe it’s the start of a tolerance or an understanding.

Either way, I like this much better than wanting to suffocate him in his sleep.

He gives me a half grin and takes off again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“The ex—the one who that letter was over—is he the reason you love chess?”

The question is simple, but I hear the layers in it. He’s not just asking about Trace, nor is he asking about chess. The words I used at his apartment when I told him about my driveway chess habit echo through my head.

“Because the habit started when I was avoiding going in the house.”

This isn’t the first time he’s remembered something I’ve said—something important.

Things that matter. It’s slightly terrifying to know that he paid attention because he could use the information against me.

But, so far, he’s only used it to get to know me better.

And if I’m being honest, it’s been so long since anyone outside of Gianna and Audrey gave a shit about me that it feels nice.

Especially while I’m in the middle of this Trace crap.

I give him a small smile and a shrug. “I guess one good thing came out of my relationship with Trace, huh?”

I can’t read the look he gives me, but my heart swells, anyway. I’m thankful when my phone buzzes in my lap and gives me a reason to look away.

Audrey: Just checking in. Are you okay, Astrid?

I sneak a peek at Gray again. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, and the wind coming in from his partially lowered window feathers his hair. He’s not relaxed like before, but he’s not angry like usual, either.

And I must wonder … why ?

He looks over his shoulder at me, and we exchange the softest smile.

Not once did I ever expect to be so grateful to Gray Adler. He intervened and set this up with Joe—which just might result in a no-pay situation—and let me tag along on his trip. I hate to admit it but having him with me today did make it a smidgen easier. I’ll never tell him that, though.

Me: I’m pretty good, actually.

Gianna: Ride that fine-ass man like a horse.

Oh, Gianna . I laugh and settle into my seat.

What a mindfuck of a day this has been. At least the hard part is over.