#playerdown: Players to Men Page 6

  “So?” He quirked an eyebrow. “You can still show me what I missed out on. We can do the rides another time.”

  Wait, what? Another date?

  I stopped walking. He grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the way of the incoming crowd, his brow creasing. “Do you want to go have dinner elsewhere?” he asked, mistaking my gaping. “I wasn’t going to take you home without food, Blue. We can leave and go to the city, if you like.”

  “I prefer not having a sit-down dinner, thank you very much.” I sniffed. “My ass will not appreciate it since it’s still traumatized from sitting on the ground weeding for long periods with sporadic moving from patch to patch,” I grumbled.

  His mouth twitched, his gaze lowering to my butt. “Stop!” I groaned before he said anything like, he’ll massage it for me. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m paying.”

  I marched off, then stopped, looking for the food signs or stalls.

  “Blue—” He caught up with me. “I brought you here for the date.”

  I wasn’t gonna argue with him about that. “We aren’t a couple. You drove us here. And we’re not sitting down to eat.”

  “Noted.” Amusement lit his eyes. “I never met a girl who could argue so much.”

  Because the others only wanted to get into your pants, I almost said, but I shut my mouth and pointed to a food stand some distance away. “There.”

  “By the way,” he said, oh so casually that I halted again, my eyes narrowing. I didn’t trust that fake innocence of his. “It’s still a date. Except, now you’re treating me.”

  Man, seriously?

  And he laughed outright.

  A couple of hotdogs and drinks in hand—yeah, he paid, the guy could move superfast—we strolled around then entered the much warmer arcade, eating our calorie-laden fest. The sounds of pinball machines dinging, balls rolling, and coins clinking added to the cacophony. But the energy, the dazzling lights, even the noise here made me feel happier. In these places, I was just another person and could still enjoy myself.

  Even War seemed to enjoy the sights.

  We stopped to watch a couple of youngsters play the dance station, a song blaring as they performed fast steps to the music’s beat.

  “Wanna try that?” I asked, taking another bite of my hotdog.

  “No.”

  I snorted as I chewed. “You can chase a small black rubber puck across the ice for the entire world to see, but you won’t dance?”

  “You’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, swallowing some of his water.

  “Yes, only to you,” I shot back, hiding my smile, and he gave a slow shake of his head.

  We left the energetic teens and continued through the noisy arcade. Kids darted in front of us, and War grabbed me before I collided with them. I bumped into his chest, causing all the butterflies in my belly to stir once more. I hastily righted myself.

  A half hour later, the food finished, War took my empty water bottle and the dog wrappers, disposing them in their respective trash and recycling bins, then we stopped at the arcade’s air hockey game.

  “Ah, more up your alley, right? Nah, don’t think you can win this one,” I taunted.

  His gaze flickered to me. “One bet got me a week. Maybe I should take you up on this and aim for a month?”

  “Not happening.” I started walking again, and I could almost feel his smirk as he caught up with me. Rides were more my thing, so I was content just strolling around. But a bit of nostalgia crept through me, recalling my father playing the games so he could win me a prize.

  “What’s wrong?” War asked.

  “Stopping watching me,” I grumbled. “We’re in an arcade. Enjoy the sights.”

  “I am.”

  Heat flooded my face at his low words.

  “What is it?” he repeated, coming closer now, avoiding the oncoming crowd of boisterous teens, his arm brushing mine. Even though I had my hoodie on, the pressure of his biceps against mine had my stomach tripping in awareness.

  “Just thinking,” I finally choked out an answer, ignoring the spark of desire tightening my body.

  “Your father?”

  I nodded, slipping my hands into my hoodie pockets. “Dad would buy me hot dogs and soda, go on rides with me, just to see the joy on my face.” And now you brought me here. “Being in this place makes me miss him so much.”

  War watched me, didn’t say anything for a moment, then he nudged me with a hand on my back toward a game with plates lined in rows. “Let’s try that.”

  He got out his wallet and handed over his card. The dark-haired attendant allotted six softballs to him.

  “Here.” He gave me three, then put his card away.

  Smiling, I took them and set my bag down, but he picked it up. “Safer,” he said.

  I blinked, his thoughtfulness surprising me. “Thanks.”

  I faced the plates again and aimed for the middle row, pulled back my arm, and let go. The ball flew straight between the plates, hitting the tarp behind. Ugh. The next missed again, and I groaned. Nope, a sporty girl, I certainly wasn’t. My aim was terrible.

  “Should have betted you,” he baited from my side, but then he said, “Since this is a date, I’ll help you.”

  Wow, so magnanimous all of a sudden? Probably because I was losing so spectacularly. Ugh.

  “Try aiming for the lower shelf plates.”

  Okay, then. I eyed the target again, and since I had nothing to lose, I narrowed my eyes and took aim, drew back my arm, and let loose with everything in me. The ball flew like a slingshot, striking the target, and the lovely sound of splintering plate echoed.

  “Yesss!” I jumped, punching the air with my fists. Grinning, I faced him. “Okay, Mr. Hockey Ace, let’s see you do your thing.”

  I reached for my bag, but he smiled and gave me his three balls instead. “They’re all for you. Try again.”

  Wow, really? With my adrenaline rush, I wanted to win—wanted to break all three and show War I wasn’t totally hopeless.

  So I stayed with the bottom row, and I did get all three.

  “Yes! Did you see that?” I squealed as the last plate crashed, wheeling to him, my blood pumping in exhilaration. “I broke ‘em all.”

  “I did.” He smiled. “Go claim your prize.”

  I glanced over at the soft animals. “That one,” I told the guy running the game. “Sid the Sloth.” I grinned.

  The attendant laughed, getting my Disney reference. “Good choice.”

  War frowned as I took my tote from him and shouldered it.

  “Ice Age,” I told him, taking pity at his confusion. “A Disney movie?” I added.

  He gave a single shoulder shrug. “Didn’t see it.”

  I shook my head. The animal wasn’t Sid the Sloth, but a sloth, nevertheless. Vomit green with long arms and legs and protruding brown eyes. My sloth clutched to my chest, I met War’s smiling eyes. “Thanks for this. I enjoyed this evening.”

  “It bodes well for the future,” he teased.

  He meant further dates, and despite my curling stomach, I didn’t rise to his baiting.

  “We should leave,” he said, glancing around the still busy place. “It’s long past nine. Unless you want to stay?”

  With the long drive ahead, I wanted to get home and catch some decent hours of zzz’s tonight.

  “No, no. I have my sloth.” I attached the Velcro paws through my tote straps, leaving him dangling. “Now I’m happy to depart this place of wonderous entertainment.”

  His head snapped to me. Stare blank. “You’re happy to depart this…”

  Was that a question? “Indeed, I am. Lead on.”

  He gave a little shake of his head, expression droll, and I grinned.

  So, sue me for sounding so posh. In the plethora of books I read and movies I watched, I adored historical romances. And who knew it would be so fun to confound War with it?

  As we headed out of the amusement park to the parking lot, he pressed close
to my side to avoid the departing crowd. My smile faded, and the feelings I struggled to shut off the entire evening sprang up in full-blown awareness. He’d been different today and especially tonight, almost caring during this unexpected date of sorts. It stirred something deep within me, making me want to lean into him, feel his arm come around me to hold me as if I mattered—

  No, no. I wrapped my arms around my waist. I couldn’t start thinking or feeling this way.

  It was a disaster waiting to happen. I’d already been down that road, not once, but three times.

  WAR

  As we headed back to the city, my irritation from earlier in the day, after finding Aaron hitting on Charli, had finally dissipated. Her smile, her excitement were so worth the park trip.

  But annoyance at myself still lingered that she’d militantly worked the yard. Hell, I didn’t care about the damn weeds. I thought she’d skip them and do the easy ones. But she had to make a point and tire herself. I only wanted her company. Had I told her that, then she would have dug her heels in and refused to give me the time of day.

  “You’re quiet,” she said as I drove through Pacific Heights’ quiet streets and past the massive mansions. I glanced at her and found her stroking the sloth on her lap like it was a pet.

  “Ah, thinking about your plans for later, huh?”

  And she was back to baiting me. “Yes, getting home and crashing for the night, extremely exciting stuff.”

  “What, no tail tonight?” she asked, eyes wide with fake shock, lips parted. And I wanted to kiss that tormenting mouth so badly.

  “No, I’m after something much better,” I shot back, slowing to a halt in front of her house. “My hashtag girlfriend.”

  An eye roll followed. “Yeah, right.”

  “Deny it all you want, but this fire between us will be sated, Blue.”

  My bluntness had her jaw dropping. I exited the truck and headed around to her side. She still gaped at me as I opened her door. Apparently, I’d finally stumped her into silence. Good.

  I unbuckled the seat belt, grasped her by the waist, and brought her down, keeping her caged between the Escalade and me.

  “What, cat got your tongue?” I provoked softly. Head lowered, I trailed my mouth along her jaw to her earlobe, gently tugging it with my lips. Her skin tasted of warm woman, and the scent of my shower gel she’d used crowded my nose. Her breathing hitched, then it rushed out, grazing my skin, stirring my senses with a growing need. Hell, nothing new there. She affected me in this way from the moment we met.

  I lifted my head. Her eyes, wide and dark, glittered beneath the streetlight—with desire or plans for my murder, who knew with her?—but I let my mouth hover a whisper away from hers. “It’s good you agree with me—”

  She reared back like a scalded kitten.

  “Never!” She stormed off, rounding the hood. Then she spun around, stopping on the other side of the truck. “Oh, there is an all-consuming blaze going on,” she tossed at me sweetly, those brown eyes spitting ire. “Only in your…er, head.”

  “Liar,” I taunted, strolling over to her.

  “If you think I’m going to be another notch on your, er, hockey stick, dream on, Ace!” Then she sauntered across the street, sloth swinging from her hand, its legs almost dragging on the ground.

  Huffing out a laugh, I got into the driver’s seat and shut the door. I didn’t expect any less from my sharp-tongued urchin. But I had to find a way to convince Charli to continue with what she started on Instagram.

  She’d softened a little while at the amusement park, but that hadn’t been the right time to bring it up. This needed careful handling. I watched her reach the massive gates and frowned, a thought taking hold. Hell, she was too impulsive, and chances were, I’d wake up in the morning and find out she’d put up another message on her Instagram, saying it was a damn joke.

  And I wanted a chance for something more, something real with her.

  I slid my window down to call out, then changed my mind, got my cell from the console, and texted her instead. We need to talk.

  That, hopefully, should keep her wondering about what.

  I started my truck and left the engine idling while I waited to see her enter her home safely. As she opened the side gate to the mansion, a cab approached and slowed, stopping near Charli. But she was looking at her cell, reading my text, I hoped.

  The taxi doors opened. A petite blonde in a red pantsuit glided out, and a lanky, older man with dark hair and a deep tan joined her.

  “Charlotte!” I could hear the smile in the woman’s voice.

  Charli swung around. I couldn’t see her expression clearly, but she seemed to freeze. “I want to introduce you to someone,” the blonde said excitedly. “This is Matteo.” She hooked her arm through the man’s. “My—”

  “No…no…” Charli shook her head, taking a step back, then another, her back hitting the gate frame. “You didn’t, tell me you didn’t?”

  I frowned. Didn’t what?

  “Charlotte—”

  “How could you?” she yelled, clearly upset. “You promised!”

  “Charlotte, keep your voice down, please.”

  “Cara, mia, let’s take this into the house,” the guy said in a lightly accented voice. He put his hand on the blonde’s back.

  “Tell me you didn’t do it,” Charli pleaded, ignoring him. “That this is just a fling?”

  “Charlotte—”

  “Never mind!” She wheeled away from them, and when she saw I was still there, she raced back to the truck.

  “Charlotte, wait!” The blonde took a few steps after her. “Listen to me, please.”

  But Charli opened the truck door and scrambled inside, shutting it with a slam. “Drive,” she begged. “Let’s go, please.”

  Unshed tears glinted in her eyes. Everything in me wanted to pull her onto my lap and comfort her, even though I had no idea what the hell was going on.

  She buckled up, keeping her head lowered.

  I wanted to ask what was wrong, because whatever happened with the woman had hurt her, and that didn’t sit well with me. So I reeled it in.

  Charli obviously needed time. Except the walls I didn’t care for were back up, higher than ever, shutting everyone out.

  6

  CHARLI

  “Where to?” War asked, his voice quiet in the darkened interior of the truck.

  I shrugged, finding it hard to speak past the lump stuck in my throat, betrayal strangling me. “A h-hotel, anywhere—anywhere but here.”

  Mother’s broken promises always left me feeling as if I were falling and landing in a hard, painful crash. I should have known better after five marriages not to trust her word.

  As War drove past my mother and her latest soon-to-be windfall, memories of the gold glinting on his ring finger beneath the moonlight pressed down on me. I didn’t even care if she got married again, but I cared about her, about the reputation she’d acquired.

  I’d heard it all while growing up, the names she was called—social climber, gold digger, a sponge—every time she married. And me, I wasn’t left unscathed, either. No one noticed the child in their midst when they whispered, Oh, she’s got a little freeloader as well.

  Worse, she’d simply waved off the slander, said not to let it bother me.

  But it all had dug a deep hole inside me, and it hurt just as badly now. My inner child still couldn’t deal with this aspect of her.

  Mother had a morbid fear of being destitute, worried that if she didn’t have another rich husband lined up, she would sink into poverty and live out of a cardboard box or something. She had a teaching degree, but no, that wasn’t the job she cared to do any longer. It didn’t go with her lifestyle—

  “Charli?”

  I blinked my eyes, gritty from unshed tears, my mind hauled back to where I sat in the truck. With War.

  I had no idea how much time had passed, nor did I care.

  He exited the truck and came around to open my
door and help me down. I collected my tote and sloth from the floorboard, the quiet around us cutting through my bleakness.

  Frowning, I glanced around the dimly lit place, taking in the many vehicles parked there. We were in some building’s underground parking garage.

  “This isn’t a hotel. War—”

  “I have a three-bedroom apartment,” he said, cutting off my protest, shutting the door and locking the vehicle. “You can stay with me tonight.”

  With a hand on my lower back, he steered me to the elevators. I was too tired and dispirited to argue. After the hours I put in weeding, followed by walking around the boardwalk, on top of the emotional upheaval from my mother’s latest marriage drama, I was ready to collapse into oblivion.

  The cage halted, and the metal door slid open, leading into a cool, black-marbled lobby with white panel molding and a huge abstract monochrome painting on one wall.

  War crossed to the massive ebony door, opened it, then ushered me into his place. A modern affair penthouse.

  I stepped into a wide foyer with gray marble floors. The archway opposite led three steps down into a sunken living room with cream sectionals and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay. Lights twinkled from the yachts, distracting me from the lead weighing me down.

  “Sitting room, and through that door, is the TV lounge.” He waved to his right, then flicked a hand to his left. “Dining room, kitchen on this side, and laundry, etcetera beyond that.” He glanced at me. “The bedrooms are this way.”

  I followed him down an elegant corridor, and he opened the first door into a room with the same floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay. The bed, with a restful stone-hued padded headboard, abutted one wall. Pillows and a comforter—in the same stone shade merged with green—decked the mattress.

  “This room’s yours. Bathroom’s over here.” He pointed across the room to a door on my left.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I finally faced him.

  Those blue eyes held mine. “I couldn’t just drop you off someplace and leave you alone when you’re this distraught.”

  Exhaling a shaky breath, the long day suddenly catching up with me, I realized then I had nothing to sleep in, except for the tank and shorts I currently wore. I wasn’t one for sleeping in my underwear or naked. The underlying thought was always, what if there was a fire, or a break-in?