Risky Play (Red Card #1)(50)

Together.

Forever partners.

Maybe it didn’t exist in real life.

But for a few brief moments in Mexico.

It had.





Chapter Thirty-Seven SLADE

I was slightly buzzed from the wine.

And drunk from the taste of the French toast, or maybe just drunk with the knowledge that she’d eaten so much of it, enjoyed it, that I’d satisfied her.

I flipped through more channels.

I’d texted her forty minutes ago.

And still nothing.

I tried not to think about her being with Jagger—because thinking about that made me think about taking his head off, and he was my teammate, we’d be playing in games together soon—I would need to trust him, not murder him.

Shit.

I groaned into my hands and wiped my face.

I should just go to bed.

Instead, I checked my phone again.

I’d done nothing right when it came to Mack, except make French toast. I didn’t even send the flowers myself.

I typed out a text to Matt.

Me: I told her I missed her.

Matt: You don’t drink during the season, why are you drunk texting me?

Me: Not drunk. She’s with him.

Hell, he was right. I was drinking. Why was I drinking her away? It wasn’t working worth shit!

Matt: Then maybe you should have been the cheerful sexier option, idiot.

Me: I am sexier.

Matt: People magazine did a poll, you won by two percent.

Me: Two percent is still winning and I’m damn cheerful!

Matt: Yes, so cheerful that you yell out your cheer loud and clear and then save your smiles for your dog.

Me: That doesn’t even make any sense.

Matt: Go to bed. Nothing good happens after midnight and you need the sleep.

Me: I fucked up.

Matt: I’m sighing really loud right now. What do you want to hear? That there’s a chance?

Me: Finally! Yes!

Matt: Alright then! Go get ’em, tiger, she’s totally going to forgive you. In fact, if you send enough money in her direction, you can even marry her, screw the whole NDA. Just put a ring on it and be done!

Me: Very funny. You know I’m not ever getting married. I just . . .

Matt: Use her for sex and I’ll help Jagger bury your body.

Me: I would never do that.

Matt: Don’t lead her on if you don’t plan on following through.

Me: I won’t. I swear. I’ll make sure she knows it’s not a one-time thing.

Matt: You can’t hear me, but I’m groaning really loud into my hands.

Me: Do that shit privately, man. I don’t want to know about shower time.

Matt: You. Are. A. Dick.

I ignored him. He called me a dick at least eighty percent of the time I was around him. It was nothing new, and it wouldn’t be the last time. I set my phone on the coffee table and willed a text from her to come through.

Only to hear a knock on the door.

I jammed my knee against the coffee table in an effort to sprint toward the door, and nearly tripped over an equally excited Alfie as we made our way down the hall.

I stopped, took a deep breath, then opened the door and tried not to look tired. “Hey, Mack.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re fooling no one. I heard you running to the door, and poor Alfie looks ready to have a heart attack. You know he can’t do long distance!”

I stared at my bulldog in disbelief. “It was forty feet, tops. If that’s long distance, we need to cut back on snacks.”

“But he’s such a good boy!” she said in a high-pitched voice as she got down to eye level and started loving his face.

Irrational jealousy pounded through me. I cleared my throat to get her attention.

She just kept ignoring me. “Aren’t you, buddy? Aw, Alfie, I missed you.” Bastard licked her face and whined, then looked up at me as if to say, I win.

Damn it, I should have been more worried about the dog all along!

I cleared my throat again.

“You want a bath on Monday? Yeah?” He wagged his nonexistent tail and started to dance around in circles when seconds ago he’d looked ready to pass out.

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my dog to be more dramatic than me.

Mack caught the movement. “What?”

“Nothing.” I knelt down and rubbed his belly. “Can’t a guy be jealous about bath time?”

“It’s typically a bad thing when humans get bathed by another human,” she pointed out.

“Not true.” I inched closer. “Bathing can be very—” Her eyes flickered to my lips.

I sniffed.

Her eyes widened. “ALFIE!”

“Why!” I waved in front of my face. “Alfie, no, man, you gotta stop with the gas, you’re going to chase her away! Oh, it’s full of protein.” I gagged. “Like eggs or something.”

She held her nose and turned away to take a breath. “It’s his superpower.”

“I need to ask the vet what to do, because that’s not natural. It’s not.”

She burst out laughing as tears of mirth filled her eyes. “You would have a dog with a toxic ass.”

“Hey! He just . . . has an extremely sensitive stomach.”

She stood while Alfie seemed to be grinning between the two of us as if to say, Look, I didn’t ruin the moment, she’s still here!