Playing the Player(75)

I stared at him, open-mouthed. “Did you just… Was that Mark Darcy from Bridget Jones’ Diary?”

He shrugged, grinning, and his eyes drifted to my mouth.

“Yeah, totally Mark Darcy,” he said. “My accent sucks, but…” He moved quickly, his fingers lifting my chin, forcing me to face him.

“I’m such an *,” he said softly. Then he moved his hand, settling it on the nape of my neck, making me shiver.

“I wouldn’t say that,” I breathed, as he traced down to my collarbone.

“I would. So would Alex. And Desi. I’m sorry, Trina, for not listening to you. For making that stupid bet with Alex.” His eyebrows knotted in anxiety. “You know I never meant it seriously, right? I didn’t even keep the stupid money.”

We breathed together, deeply and slowly, and I wondered if his heart thundered as much as mine.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked. “For being such a dick?”

“Which time?” His lips quirked. “Of course I do. Do you forgive me? For keeping secrets from you? For being dumb enough to say I’d mentor you in the first place?”

“Yes. But you have to make me a promise.”

“What?” My voice trembled.

“No more secrets.”

“I promise.”

“But I have a secret you need to know,” he said. “It’s the last one. Promise.”

He shifted away from me, leaning over the coffee table to write. His pen moved quickly across the letter I’d kept under my pillow all this time.

He handed me the paper. He’d added three words to the bottom of the page. Three amazing words. The ember of hope inside of me roared to life, fueled by those words.

I raised my eyes to his. “I love you, too.”

He pulled me into his arms, and his lips grazed mine. “Still feel like living dangerously, BB?”

After a long, long time, we came up for air.

“I’m glad we’re clear on who’s the slacker and who’s the superstar,” I said, breathless.

“I don’t think either of us is a slacker when it comes to kissing,” he said. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny. “But I have something for Bird Brain, too.”

He clasped a chain around my neck and I looked down to see a two delicate gold lovebirds balanced on a branch. I lifted it for a closer look and saw two leaves dangling from the branch, one engraved with a T and one with an S.

“It was inspired by Gilly,” he said. “Trina and Slade, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” He ducked his head, smiling shyly. “I, um, meant to give it to you a while ago.”

“Those chick flicks taught you well.” I giggled, right before he kissed me again.

He laughed against my mouth. “I know, right?”

“One last thing,” I gasped between kisses. “You have to come back to work. I can’t handle those two by myself.”

“Already handled, BB. We’re all going zip-lining tomorrow.”

I broke the kiss, leaning back to look at him. “For real?”

His grin was devilish, daring. “Super Nanny tip number four: live dangerously. Bring your lavender oil, BB. We’re going to need it.” His arms tightened around me, and his eyes filled with laughter…and love.

“You’re not the boss of—” But my words were swallowed by his kiss. As I fell headfirst under the Slade spell again, I reminded myself of Slacker Nanny tip number three:

Spontaneity isn’t bad. It might even be…epic.





Epilogue


Slade


“One more lap, BB. No dinner ’til you finish.”

Trina glares at me, but she turns and pushes off the side of the pool. She starts in the shallow end and makes it all the way to the deep end, working her arms and breathing in a halfway decent rhythm. I swim alongside her, telling her when to breathe. She sputters out at the very end, grabbing the wall and coughing up water.

“Not bad,” I tell her.

Her mouth drops open, then clamps shut in a narrow line of pretend anger. I laugh and swim close to her, pinning her against the wall with my body. She balances on the ledge that runs around the inside of our pool. She’s just tall enough that her head and shoulders are out of the water.

“I’m just kidding,” I say. “That was awesome.”

She smiles up at me, tugging off her goggles and tossing them behind her onto the deck. The sunlight glints off the necklace she’s wearing, the one that was stuffed in my dresser drawer for way too long.

“I can’t move, Slade,” she says. Water drips off her eyelashes and glistens on her lips.

“You have somewhere you need to be?” I press closer against her and lower my lips to hers.

We stay like that for a long time, until my dad totally kills the moment.

“If the entity formerly known as Slade and Trina is hungry, dinner’s ready.”

Trina giggles, pulling her lips away from mine. She looks up at my dad, grinning but embarrassed. I glance at him, annoyed. He’s wearing his dorky chef apron and holding a grill spatula in one hand like a scepter.

“Don’t you and Mom ever go out anymore?”

He smirks, pointing his scepter at us like we’re his minions. I sigh and rest my hands on the lip of the pool, keeping Trina caged between my arms.