Page 101 of The Wrong Game

I didn’t know what I wanted.

I didn’t know what my intentions were with Zach, not completely, anyway. I knew I liked him. I knew I cared for him. I knew he made me feel safe and comfortable, that he was pushing me, that he gave me the space to open up to him in a way I never thought I could open up to any man ever again.

But after the last home game, all we’d agreed to was to see what happened. We were just having fun. We were justbeingtogether.

And it didn’t occur to me until that game how stupid we were being.

We needed to talk. We needed to have a conversation about what came next, about what all of this meant. He was introducing me to important people in his life, and I was letting him inside my past — showing him my bruised, bleeding heart and letting him hold it in his hands.

I didn’t ask Zach what his intentions were after the last home game, and I never asked myself what mine was, either.

The question now was, how long could I stay on my little cloud before I had to return to solid ground and figure it out?

The next day at work was a shit show.

My anxiety had been triggered at the game, and when I was back in my condo alone, it drove itself right into high gear, keeping me up all night. I’d been late waking up, which meant I hadn’t had coffee ready for Belleormyself — not that Belle minded, butIdid. I was her assistant, and she relied on me to have things ready. Coffee might have seemed trivial and not like a big deal to her, but it mattered to me.

And that’s how the entire day went.

I couldn’t find folders that I knew I’d organized and filed away correctly. I couldn’t find words to convey what I wanted in our morning meeting. I couldn’t get our scheduling system to work so I could set up consultations for the week.

I couldn’t do anything except think about Zach, about us, and about everything I’d jumped into with him without thinking it through.

“Do you have the file for the Marlow account?” Gemma asked, breezing into my office after lunch. Her hair was pulled back in a clip, and she tapped away on her phone from the doorway of my office.

I didn’tneedan office — a simple desk and filing area would have done. I tried to tell Belle that when we first secured the prime location in one of the hottest buildings on the river walk. But, Belle was Belle — she got what she wanted. And she wanted me to have an office.

“Um, yes. I have it. I have it,” I repeated, spinning in my chair and looking at the cabinets behind me. The sunlight streamed in through the office windows, filling the room, and my eyes bounced to a couple holding hands and walking alongside one of the riverside restaurants.

Belle cleared her throat. “So… can I get it, then?”

I shook my head, snapping myself out of my daze. “Yes. Yeah. Um… Hang on, I know I have it.”

I started filtering through the files, but for some reason, I couldn’t even think about where I would have put it. Everything was in its place — alphabetically, by category — depending on if they were residential, commercial, or something in-between. But the Marlow file wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and I panicked, heart picking up speed as my fingers flipped through the files again.

“It’s here,” I said, more to myself than to Belle.

“Well, it’s okay. We have the files digitally. I’ll just look it up in the system.”

“You can’t,” I ground out, slamming the cabinet door shut. “Because the system is down, and I’ve been on the phone all morning with IT trying to get them to figure it out, but they’re moving about as fast as the last ten minutes of a work day.”

I huffed, flipping through more files as Belle crossed the room and sat on the corner of my desk. She tucked her phone away, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched me. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I spat, chest tight. “I just need to find these files and everything is just going wrong today and…” I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’ll find it and bring it to you.”

“Gemma.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right. And I’m a football fan.”

I groaned, flopping back in my chair and slinking down until my butt was hanging off the bottom cushion. My hair fell in my face, and Belle smirked from where she watched me.

“What’s going on?”

I wiggled my way back up to sit, letting out a long exhale. “You know how I went to the game with Zach yesterday, and he brought his brother?”

“Yes. You said you had a great time, that his little brother was refreshing and fun.”