Page 82 of The Wrong Game

I nodded. “Yeah. At midnight.”

“That’s weird.”

“It is,” I said, stomach somersaulting at the sight of her name on my phone. It wasn’t especially out of the ordinary to hear from Sofia, but our communication had died down considerably after Carlo’s funeral. It seemed once all the papers were dealt with, the will done, the body laid in the ground… there wasn’t much more for us to talk about.

Her son, my husband, was gone.

He was the only thread that tied us together.

“Are you going to call her back?”

I shook my head, tucking the phone back in my purse. “I will, later. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe she was just feeling sad last night.”

“Maybe,” Belle said, and she reached over, squeezing my forearm. “Hey, don’t let this steal your joy today, okay? You’re allowed to be happy.” She smirked, looping her arm through mine. “Especiallyafter getting your ass eaten.”

“Oh, my God, Belle.” I snorted. “No couth.”

“No shame, either.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

“Why don’t you tell me aboutJordan,” I said, directing the conversation back at her. “Did he go home with you?”

Belle smirked. “Come on. A lady never climaxes twice and tells.”

“I knew it!” I laughed. “Hey, at least the hot doctor with the adorable dog didn’t go to waste.”

“Oh, trust me. There was no waste. By the time he left last night, I’d used up every drop of energy he had to offer.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. I couldn’t even find it in me to be surprised, though. This was my best friend at work.

“Now,” she said, looping her arm in mine. “Tell me about Zach’s cock again.”

“Should I just draw it?”

She blanched. “Could you?”

I smacked her off me, both of us laughing as she admitted that was too much and turned the conversation to our morning meeting, instead. She was pitching an office design to one of the advertising firms downtown, and I pulled out her sketches as we rounded the corner toward our office building. But even as we talked about desks and frames and natural lighting, I still couldn’t stop smiling — I couldn’t stop thinking abouthim.

I didn’t know what came next. I didn’t know if I was moving too fast, if I was asking for trouble by abandoning my safe plan and trusting Zach not to hurt me. And even though Carlo’s mother calling me had thrown me, Belle was right — Ididdeserve to be happy, even if just for one morning.

I’d call her back later. And maybe I’d wake up tomorrow and realize everything I’d done was stupid. Maybe by the next home game, I’d go right back to being in control like Zach said, taking someone new to the game and falling right back in line. Maybe Zach and I were temporary, and we’d just have some fun for a couple weeks and then go our separate ways.

But maybe it didn’t matter what happened next.

Maybe all that mattered was that right now, in this moment, in this blissful morning, I was happy.

And I hadn’t been that way in a long, long time.

Zach

I was high.

I’d never done a single drug in my entire life other than alcohol, yet still, I knew I had to be on some sort of high as I floated around Doc’s bar, filling orders and humming along to the music blaring through the speakers. The Monday night football game would start in a half hour, and we were slammed again, but it didn’t matter how busy we were or how grumpy Doc was because last night? I’d had Gemma Mancini in my arms.

Thatwas its own special brand of drug right there.

“Would you stop being so…happy?” Doc grumped, frowning at me as he slid two beers in front of a couple of our regulars. “You’re scaring the patrons.”

“Tease me all you want, Doc, but you won’t get me down today.” I passed behind him, clearing the empty glasses from the bar and taking a new order from a group of girls who had just sat down.