Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(42)

“I hear Miami is fun. Gonna go party it up tonight?” I ask with a smile and systematically dismantle a paperclip.

He chuckles, and I clench my thighs together. Even from three thousand miles away, his voice does things to me. He’s only been gone for roughly thirty-six hours and I’m itching to get my hands on him.

“No, we have a curfew when we’re out of town, babe. We’ll probably all just go to the hotel, order in room-service, and call it a night. I wish you were here.” The last sentence is whispered, and I clutch my phone even more tightly in my hand.

“Me too,” I murmur.

“Good. Get on a plane tonight.”

I laugh loudly. Yeah, right. “Will, that’s not possible.”

“Why not? I’ll book you something right now.”

“I work a job, remember?”

“Call out sick.”

“No.” I shake my head and laugh again. “You’ll be home tomorrow night.”

“I want to see you tonight. Fuck the distance, Meg, you should be here. I want you at the game tomorrow. In fact, take the whole week off. We have a bye-week next weekend, and Coach is giving us the week off. Let’s just go somewhere together for a few days.”

I sit in stunned silence. Is he serious? Just pick up and leave?

“Will, I have to ask for vacation time months in advance.”

I hear him sigh on the other end and feel like shit for raining on his parade.

“I want to see you too,” I tell him firmly. “But I can’t just leave town without any notice.”

“You need a vacation, Meg. You’re exhausted. We need time together.”

“I’m with you every day.” I remind him.

“I miss you.”

Damn, we have it bad.

“I miss you too, babe. I’ll call you tonight when I get off work.”

“Okay. Later.”

I hang up and rub my forehead. He’s right, I do need a vacation. Being whisked away at a moment’s notice sounds fantastic, but I’m not a rich superstar. I have a job, and a mortgage, and a crazy biological mother who seems to think I have to send her money on a regular basis.

I dig back into the charts in front of me and try to forget about a certain sexy football player and what he might be doing right now in sunny Florida.

“Can I come in?” My boss, Loretta, asks.

“Sure.”

She sits in the shabby chair opposite me and sets a manila envelope on the desk.

“How’s it going?” she asks.

“Fine, thanks. You?”

“Oh, fine,” she waves my question off, and looks at me for a long minute. “It’s been a rough week.”

“Most weeks are rough around here, Loretta,” I remind her. She nods thoughtfully.

“I saw that your football player was with you at the funeral the other day,” she mentions causally, a knowing smile on her kind face.

“Yes, he was,” I confirm. “He liked Nick.”

“We all liked Nick,” she sighs heavily. “Losing him was tough on all of us.”

I not in agreement and watch her, wondering where she’s going with this.

“You know, I was looking through your attendance records, and was reminded that you haven’t had a vacation in two years.”

Will Montgomery, I’m going to kick your ass. Right after I kiss you senseless.

“Okay,” I reply.

“You have almost two hundred hours of vacation time saved up in your bank, Megan.”

I nod, watching her.

Loretta shakes her head and sighs, then chuckles. “I appreciate your dedication. Trust me, I do. But Meg, this job will burn you out fast if you don’t take care of yourself. Your football player called me earlier and asked me to give you this, along with the next ten days off work.”

She slides the envelope to me and I open it, my jaw drops as I read the paper inside. It’s a flight itinerary to Miami, leaving in four hours. Behind that is an email sent from Will.

Loretta,

Thanks for taking care of this. I owe you.

Will Montgomery

I shake my head and look up at Loretta. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I don’t want to see you for ten days, girlfriend. Go have fun. Get some sun. Have some sex. Spend time with that fine specimen of man of yours.” She rises and heads for the door, but turns back to me when she reaches the doorframe.

“Oh, by the way. You’ve got the rest of the day off as well. Have a good vacation.”

I sit for a long minute and stare at the itinerary, then pull out my phone and shoot Will a text.

Do you always get your way?

After I pull out my purse and gather my things, he responds.

I need you.

Well, how do I argue with that?



*



It’s late when I arrive in Miami, but Will has a car waiting for me at the airport. I expect him to be asleep when I arrive at the hotel. The front desk concierge doesn’t even blink when I give him my name and whom I’m with. He just hands me the key to Will’s room and gives me directions on how to find it.

Pulling my large suitcase behind me, I head for the elevator. I probably over-packed, but what in the hell does a girl bring on a week-long vacation when she doesn’t know where she’s going and her man has more money that common sense? Jesus, we could end up in Iceland for all I know.