Home > Play Me (Take a Chance #3)(21)

Play Me (Take a Chance #3)(21)
Author: Diane Alberts

“Damn,” he moaned, laying his head back on the couch and closing his eyes. She took advantage of his closed eyes to look her fill. “I don’t think I even have enough energy left to shower.”

His bare chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and she longed to help him shower and wash it all off. Then, after they made love, he could hold her all night long, and never let her go. She snapped herself out of her fantasy and back into reality. She preferred the fantasy, thank you very much. “Yeah, you look pretty tired,” she agreed.

“I’m f**king beat.”

“I’m not, since you didn’t let me help,” she said. “You realize I’m pregnant, not useless, right?”

“Of course you’re not useless. You’re making a baby as we speak,” he said, grinning at her as he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “My baby girl.”

She touched her gently rounded stomach, in turn feeling her heartstrings tug. Damn her heart. But the way he’d said my baby girl sent waves of pleasure rolling through her—and not the kind she usually felt. No, it made her want to curl up in his lap and hug him. Tell him all of her fears, hopes, and dreams. Trust him. She cleared her throat and met his eyes, taken aback at the new feelings she was experiencing. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones? “It could be a boy, too.”

“Could be, but it’s not. She’s a girl, and she’s gonna look just like her mommy. Adorable and irresistible.”

His gaze dropped to her stomach, and his fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch her. But he held himself back this time. Why? “You can touch him if you want.”

He grinned and reached out, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. He laid his hands on her stomach, his touch gentle and barely there. “She’s perfect.”

Kiersten swallowed and looked away, warmed by the tender look in his eyes. Could he be any sweeter than he already was? She could only hope the child took after him when it came to the emotional part of his genetic make-up. Not screwed up in the head like her.

“Turn around. I’ll rub your shoulders for you.”

He stared at her, the warmth in his eyes turning to fire and his hands still on her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I promise I won’t do anything to sacrifice your virtue.” When he still didn’t move, she narrowed her eyes and spun her finger in a circle. “Spin. Now.”

He huffed out a breath and followed her order. She closed her fingers over his tight, damp shoulders and rubbed. He groaned and let his head drop forward, his entire body going lax. “Jesus, that feels amazing.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I’m good at this.”

“If I knew that, I’d have been begging for them every time we hung out.”

“I couldn’t let you know. It’s my best kept secret.”

He chuckled. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

And he would. She knew that. She could trust him. He would never—

Wait. What had she just thought? She could trust him. If she could trust him with something so trivial as a secret, without a doubt in her mind, why couldn’t she trust him enough to try to be his girlfriend? To try to be in a relationship? Yeah, Pete had f**ked her up. No, her life had f**ked her up. But there had been one thing constant through all of the heartache, betrayals, and tears.

Garrett.

Always Garrett.

Didn’t she owe it to him to be the same? To try to be what he wanted her to be?

Her hands must have stilled. He looked at her over his shoulder, his brow furrowed, and started to turn back around. “You okay?”

“Stay there.” She resumed rubbing, and clucked her tongue. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry. Just got lost in thought.”

“Care to share?”

“Yeah, maybe someday.” Without thinking, she asked, “Why did you want to move in with me, really?”

Oh, God. Did she really just ask him that? Talk about opening a can of worms. She knew—because he was a great guy. A guy who deserved someone that was much better than her. A guy who deserved love.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because I-I—”

The doorbell rang and Kiersten hopped to her feet to open it. Saved by the bell. Her neighbor, Ellie, stood outside with a package. “The mailman delivered your stuff to my house again. Sometimes I wonder about that guy, even if he is ridiculously hot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Kiersten mumbled, hugging the package close to her chest. She stayed mum on the topic of the hot mailman.

“What was with the moving truck?” Ellie asked. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“She’s not. That would be my truck,” Garrett said from behind Kiersten. Holding his hand out, he smiled and said, “I’m Garrett, Kiersten’s new…roommate.”

Ouch. That hurt. She had thought maybe…that maybe he would introduce himself differently. As more than her roommate.

“Oh.” Ellie blushed, her gaze dropping to Garrett’s bare chest before she shook his hand. Kiersten’s heart dropped to her stomach as she watched the newly divorced Ellie size up Garrett. And Garrett, the jerk that he was, ate it all up. “Nice to meet you. Roommates, huh? How do you two know—?”

“Thanks for the package.” Kiersten slammed the door in the face of her friend, and glowered at Garrett. He, in turn, looked at her as if she’d sprouted two heads. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell was that all about?”

“You were flirting with her,” she accused. “Right in front of me.”

“I was not. I told her my name and shook her hand,” Garrett argued. “How is that flirting?”

Then he cocked his head and studied her, and she knew instantly what a mistake she had just made. He’d think she was jealous. Which she wasn’t—why would she be jealous? Women had been swooning over Garrett for years and it had never bothered her before.

“You know what? You’re right. I don’t know what that was,” she said quickly, waving a hand in the air. She hoped he would take the hint and drop the subject. As she passed him, she fanned her cheeks. “Man, it’s hot in here, huh?”

“Oh, no you don’t.” He captured her elbow, his touch burning her skin. “Not so quick, there.” He grinned, his eyes alight at her obvious attempt to distract him. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? Admit it.”

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