Page 46 of Play Me

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Gray

“Not too bad, Adler. Not too bad,” I say, turning a full circle between my living room and kitchen.

It took me a while this morning to get up and moving. My body is sore everywhere from the game yesterday, a barn burner against our division rivals. Ridge came through for us in the end and led us to a win, but we’re all paying the price for the physicality of the match today.

That has not, however, stopped Nico and Ridge from blowing up the group chat. It’s so obnoxious that even I’ve had enough. I left it last night but had been added back by the time I woke up this morning. Fools .

I gather the wad of charging cords off the kitchen island and tuck them into a drawer.

It’s not exactly as organized as Astrid would have it, but at least they’re out of sight.

If I leave them out, or have anything out of place, she’ll stress about it when she gets here and start trying to fix it—and that’s not why she’s here.

She’s here to relax with me.

Just thinking about her is like taking a shot of happiness, which is funny considering she was so not happy when I met her.

But now that I’ve gotten to know her better, I can’t hear her name without smiling.

She’s a powerhouse, capable of anything, and I’m in awe of the things she can manage and accomplish in one day. I could never come close.

But, somehow, she lets me get close to her.

“Astrid, what are we doing?” I run a hand over my head as the rhythm of my heart changes. It beats harder and faster, each pulse both a warning and a wish. I don’t know which is a bigger problem.

There’s no way of knowing where this thing with Astrid will go.

Hell, I’m not even sure how she feels about me.

But the more time we spend together, the more I know I want this to go somewhere, and the fewer fucks I give about how fast this is going.

There isn’t a scenario I can conjure up where she doesn’t fit into my life.

It feels like she’s supposed to be in my arms, business deals, and hometown.

It's terrifying. But it’s also right. And if that’s true, whether it be now or later, I must be prepared in every way to be the man she deserves.

No matter how much it hurts.

Knock! Knock!

“Come in,” I say, my voice raspy as I face the door.

Astrid steps through the threshold, rewarding me with a big, bright smile as she swings the door shut behind her.

“How was your morning?” I ask, wrapping her up in my arms. She nuzzles her face against my chest and sags against me. “Did you check out the venue?”

She nods, making no effort to pull away. So I stand in place and hold her until she’s damn good and ready.

“It was perfect.” She kisses my chest and then leans back.

“Renn wanted to find the perfect place for Blakely’s birthday party, and I found it today.

It’s beautiful and intimate but can fit all the people he wants to invite.

I think. I hope.” She winces. “It’s perfect. I have to stop overthinking it.”

“Well, you look beautiful even if you are an overthinker.”

She smiles. “How do you feel today? What can I do for you? How can I help?”

“You can come to the couch and watch a movie with me.”

“I don’t see how that’s going to help you,” she says skeptically.

“How about this. How can I help you today?”

Her hands go to her hips. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job to help you .”

I chuckle, knowing it won’t do a damn bit of good to argue with her—not when she has this look in her eye. But I try, anyway.

“You realize that every time we’re together doesn’t mean we’re working, right?

” I ask, taking her hand and leading her into the living room.

“I didn’t ask you to come here as my coworker.

I mean, if you want to dress in a secretary’s skirt or nurse’s outfit, then that’s a different story. That I’ll accept.”

Astrid smacks me, laughing, as I sit and pull her down onto my lap. She shifts around, getting comfortable against my chest. Her ass grinds on my cock but I don’t think it’s intentional. It doesn’t stop it from getting hard, though.

“Your game went well yesterday, right?” she asks, holding our laced fingers in the air. “Look at this. You have so many bruises.”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Do you ever worry that you’ll be permanently damaged?”

I take a deep breath. “No. Not really. Rugby is relatively safe.”

“In my professional opinion, I disagree.”

Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “Your professional opinion, huh?”

“When you add the number of years I worked for Renn and now you, I’ve been in this industry for a long damn time. I think I qualify as a pro, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

She giggles. “I’ll pretend you meant that as a term of endearment, so I don’t have to kick your ass.”

Good. Because that’s how I meant it.

We sit together in the quiet, her head laying between my collar and jaw, and our fingers tangling lazily like neither of us wants to hold on tight or let go.

As I watch our fingers move, I realize it’s a metaphor for the two of us.

We aren’t really together. But we aren’t exactly single, either.

And maybe it doesn’t matter what our official status is because it doesn’t change anything for me.

I’m riding this fucker out to see where it goes.

We may not have known each other that long, but I’ve lost too many years to being unhappy.

And this? This is motherfucking happiness.

Astrid drops her hand from mine and lets it fall to the couch. I watch it drift to the cushion and feel my heart go right along with it. Then it hits me.

If I have any chance of holding her hand, I have to make sure mine is empty first.

There’s no way around it.

“I got a letter from Joe today,” she says. “Well, it was a copy of the one that he sent to the landlord’s attorney.”

“Oh, yeah? What did it say?”

“Well, I can’t read legalese, but I think it said fuck around and find out.”

I laugh, my chest shaking. “Yeah, that sounds like a Joe letter.”

“I pray to God that I never get one. I’d pee my pants.” She leans her head up and looks toward the kitchen. “Your phone has been buzzing since I got here. Do you hear it or am I hearing things?”

“It’s the fucking team chat,” I say, sitting up, too, and groaning.

“The last time I looked, they—meaning Nico and Ridge—were trying to put together the top fifty sports movies of all time. And you’d think they were arguing about something that fucking matters because these assholes take it to the next level. ”

She shakes her head, amused. Then climbs off the couch and sets up my chessboard. Each piece gives a soft thud as it takes its square. There’s a cadence to it, like a heartbeat, that adds to the peace in the room around us.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

I rest my elbows on my knees. “I was thinking about how I could get used to this. I’m not saying anything crazy, just that I enjoy having you here. Playing chess with you. Going out to eat.” I pause, smirking. “Fucking.”

She laughs, scooting to the other side of the coffee table. “I’m glad you added that on the end because I was starting to think you didn’t want me anymore.”

“Impossible.”

Her gaze flickers to the ground before she looks at me through her thick lashes. The vulnerability in them slices through my heart. “I could get used to this, too, you know.”

The air around us crackles as neither of us say a word. Instead of speaking, we sit with our admissions, searching each other’s gaze. There's a slight nervousness in her eyes, but I can’t blame her for that. This scares the shit out of me, too.

“Chess?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“Good. I was afraid you’d chicken out since I beat you last time.”

“Oh, really?” I make a face, mocking her. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“Of course, you don’t. No one likes to remember getting whipped.”

She hops up on her knees, her arms pressing her big tits together. Thanks to her low-cut top, I have a clear view of her cleavage, and it sends a shot of energy straight to my cock.

“Want to make a wager?” I ask, wiggling my brows.

She snorts. “Careful, buddy. You’re going to lose.”

“Strip chess. You lose a chess piece, then you lose an article of clothing. First one of us to disrobe gives the other oral.”

“I don’t know if I want to win or lose,” she says, laughing. “This is a terrible game.”

“Well, I guess that’s the good part of our wager. We both win no matter how it ends.”

She licks her lips, her eyes heated. “Losers first.”

I study the board, trying to remember how she played last time. Nothing comes to mind other than what she’s going to look like riding my cock in a few minutes. I grimace, adjusting myself and then moving out a knight.

Fuck it.

Astrid immediately pushes a pawn forward. I move mine so it’s face-to-face with hers.

“Interesting choice,” she says, moving her knight to protect her pawn.

“I like to keep things fun.” I use my bishop to attack her knight. “Your move.”

She takes a moment to interpret the board, ultimately deciding not to address my move. Instead, she mirrors my position and moves her bishop.

“Ah,” I say, taking her knight with gusto. “Lose the shirt, sweetheart.”

She peels the fabric away from her body and over her head, leaving her tits overflowing in a black bra that’s so sheer that I can make out her peaked nipples and dark areolas.

Motherfucker. I suck in a breath, catching her shirt as she tosses it my way. My blood is so hot that it singes my veins. All I can think about is getting my mouth on her and burying myself into her little body.

“Lose the shirt, Adler.” She takes my bishop with an outside pawn, snapping it off the board and humming as I toss my shirt on the floor. “Good lord. There should be a rule that you aren’t allowed to wear a shirt when we’re alone.”

“I’d prefer you naked when we’re alone, so arrangements can be made.”

“We might be able to work out a deal.”