Page 100 of Playing Her Game

“If you want to leave at any time, I will drive you back and⁠—”

“Rez, it takes me three days to feel human again after crossing the Atlantic. I’m not going to have you drive me all the way back.” She reaches for the door handle. “I’ll follow you.”

For a second, I just stare at her.

She’s already made up her mind. There’s no hesitation. She’s decided she wants to come, and she’s acting on it.

I have to look away before she sees too much on my face. Because all I want to do is tell her to come with me. To stay with me. To sleep beside me, not because I expect anything from her, but because I want to hold her while we both sleep. I want to wake up and find her still there. I want the simple, impossible luxury of not having to say goodbye before I’ve even had the chance to get used to having her near me again.

I’ve already crossed the line I drew for myself. Hell, I crossed the Atlantic. And now I’m sitting beside her, in a country I had no reason to visit except for her, trying to pretend I haven’t spent every hour since landing not wanting to waste a moment.

And I still haven’t told her I don’t fly home until the nineteenth.

Eleven days. I won’t tell her now. I won’t make my time here another thing she has to account for.

“Okay,” I say, my voice a little rougher than I intend. I open the door, and slide out. “Follow me.”

She smiles as she slides over into the driver's seat and adjusts it. “You know I will.”

My phone rings as I pull onto the road, Gage’s name lighting up the screen.

I answer through the car’s Bluetooth. “What?”

“Oh, good. You still have your phone, so she hasn’t had you arrested yet. That’s a good sign.”

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “You called me to be an asshole?”

“No, I called to make sure you hadn’t been arrested in a foreign country for stalking a woman. There’s a difference.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, wait. You actually found her?”

I stare at the road ahead, fighting the smile trying to pull at my mouth. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit. You actually did it.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Who the fuck am I supposed to be disturbing? I’m on the phone, Rez.”

I exhale through my nose. “You done?”

“Not even close. How’d she take it? Did she cry? Did you cry? Please tell me you cried. I’d pay actual money to see that.”

“I didn’t cry.”

“Shame. So, what happened? Did she kiss you? Slap you? Tell you to get back on a plane?”

“She came with me.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“She what?”

“She’s following me to the house.”

“The house?” His voice jumps an octave. “What house?”