Page 101 of Playing Her Game

“Waldruh.”

“You have a house in the fucking Alps?”

“Apparently, I do. Since I bought it.”

“Jesus Christ. You really went all in on this, didn’t you?”

I don’t answer.

Gage lets out a low whistle. “And how long are you staying?”

I keep my eyes on the road.

“Rez.”

“What?”

“How long?”

“Until the nineteenth.”

“Eleven days?” He nearly shouts it. “You flew to Germany, surprised this woman, and you’re staying eleven fucking days without telling her?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to tell her.”

“When were you planning on it? The morning you leave?”

“Gage.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m happy for you. Truly. But if she doesn’t know how long you’re staying, you need to be careful. Don’t make her feel like she owes you those eleven days just because you crossed an ocean.”

The words hit harder than I want them to.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

He goes quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, the teasing has eased out of his voice.

“Then let her choose, man. You got yourself there. Give her the chance to decide what she wants now that you are.”

I glance in the rearview mirror, checking for Anna’s car.

“I am.”

“Good.” A pause. “Now, for the record, if you get arrested, I’m not flying over to bail you out.”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too, buddy. Call me later. And Rez?”

“What?”

“Try not to propose before dinner.”

I end the call and toss my phone onto the passenger seat.