Risky Play (Red Card #1)(39)



“Dad.” My eyes filled with tears.

He pulled me into his arms. “Trust me, things will look better once you get some sleep. Are you staying the night?”

“No.” I jerked out of his embrace, possibly for the first time in my life. His look was a mixture of confusion and hurt. “I’ll just take another Uber home.”

I walked past him. I held my tears in.

And two minutes later when my car pulled up.

I felt those tears slide down my cheeks and drip off my chin.

Fight for me.

I closed my eyes.

I wanted someone—someone to fight for me. Not try to do what was best for me.

A vision of Slade slammed into my consciousness.

He might be a lot of things.

But when I’d needed him most.

He threw a punch.

Even if he said things he shouldn’t.

I appreciated that punch more than he’d ever know.

“Hey!” I snapped out of my sadness. “Can we stop somewhere really quick, I’ll tip?”

“Where to?” the driver called back.

I fired off Slade’s address and prayed he’d still be up.

I didn’t really have a plan.

Other than a thank-you hug.

And . . . something?

I told my driver I’d be five minutes.

I knocked on the door twice.

Nothing.

And then two barks.

Cursing.

I smiled just as the door opened, revealing a shirtless Slade and low-slung sweats on what could only be described as the V straight from heaven.

I should have taken that bottle of wine from my parents’.

“Hi, hey, hi.” I said hi twice, didn’t I?

He frowned. “Are you drunk?”

“What?” I gave my head a shake. “No, do I look drunk?”

“You said hi twice.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t catch that.”

“Too obvious not to catch but cute that you’re holding onto hope like that . . .” His lips twitched into a small grin while I narrowed my eyes.

“You’re making this harder than it should be.” I crossed my arms.

“And you make me harder than I should be. And yet, here I am.” He crossed his arms.

Don’t look down. Do not. Look. Down.

I gulped.

His smile broke out into a huge grin. “You were saying?”

I bit down on my bottom lip and then took a step toward him, then two, until I could smell his spicy body wash and minty breath. “Thank you. Just . . . thank you for standing up for me—even though you also confessed to the whole restaurant that I slept with you.”

“Weak moment,” he admitted. “And you’re welcome . . . if that guy ever speaks to you again, just tell him I’m coming for his other testicle.”

I burst out laughing. “Yeah, but maybe I won’t word it that way?”

Slade stared at my mouth, then his eyes flickered back up to mine. “Great idea.”

“So,” I croaked and then wrapped my arms around his middle.

He stood still for a few seconds, making me feel slightly stupid, and then he was hugging me back.

He hugged just as good as he kissed.

With his whole body.

I closed my eyes.

And then, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“My other cheek feels left out,” he whispered in a dark voice that sent chills down my spine. I could have sworn his golden eyes were glowing at me as an electrical current of awareness shot through my body.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off, then moved to his right cheek, only to have him capture my lips right before I was able to make contact with his skin.

He kissed me softly, never even using his tongue as his lips slid against mine, and then he pulled away.

“You promised.” I wasn’t angry. Who would be angry? I was more . . . drugged.

“I slipped,” he said in an innocent voice. “Plus it’s really dark and it looked like you were going for my ear. You’ve been embarrassed enough tonight, can’t imagine what would happen if you fell face-first against the doorbell.”

“How . . . chivalrous of you.” I shook my head in disbelief.

He put his hand on his chest. “Thank you, that was my aim.”

We stared at one another for way too long without speaking.

It was becoming a nasty habit on my part.

So I cleared my throat, another nasty habit, and stepped away from the temptation, away from the cliff I wanted to jump off. The only thing that kept me grounded was the knowledge that last time I jumped . . .

The only one to break my fall was me.

And that was a very depressing and lonely thought.

“Night, Slade.”

“You should stay.” He leaned against the doorframe. “We can watch a movie.”

“It’s late.”

“Dessert, then?”

“Slade.” I eyed him suspiciously.

He hung his head. “You could sleep over?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He just grinned. “Had to try.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t give it a little effort—friends, though, remember?”

“Only because you keep reminding me,” he said softly. “Be safe.”

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