Page 64 of A Fool's Game

And while the thought of walking away from this mess, knowing damn well it will still be here, dry and disgusting, when I come back to get ready for work in the morning, I don’t let him get to me.

“Fine by me,” I say, cool and collected.

“Great. It’s fine with me, too,” he says back, taking a step toward me.

I hold my ground.

“Oh my god. Will you two just fuck already and get it over with?”

Gem’s tipsy outburst doesn’t faze me. I hold Ainsley's gaze and watch with delight as his eyes go all deer in the headlights.

His head turns to her too quickly for his wine addled brain. I catch his arm as he sways and he yanks it out of my grasp, choosing to steady himself on the wall instead.

“Ainsley's not gay,” I tell Gem, gaze still locked on him.

She coughs out a surprised laugh. “Wait, you two talked about this already?”

“Yeah,” I say, at the same time Ainsley says “No.”

Gem laughs again, this time for real. “Which is it?”

Ainsley starts to answer, but I beat him to it. “I told him he’d like it if I sucked his dick, and he said his father wouldn’t approve.”

Ainsley sputters beside me. “That’s not true?—”

Gem turns on me, hands on her hips. “You know, maybe we should all just call it a night. I do have class tomorrow.”

“No,” Ainsley and I nearly shout in unison.

Gem’s face slides into an amused smirk. “Oh, really. So you guys can agree on something, huh?”

I shove Ainsley to the side and take a few quick steps toward her, backing her into the wall in the narrow, dimly lit hallway. When I lean down to rest my forehead against hers, she looks up at me, questioning and defiant.

“We agree on a lot of things, witch,” I tell her, voice low and intimate. “Do you want us to show you a few?”

She nods, any sign of calling it off slipping out of her expression as she bites her lower lip. I know her imagination is going wild.

“Get your coat then.”

Chapter 24

Gemma

Taylor pointed out the steps leading up to Ainsley’s stone townhouse to me one day when we were driving by, but this is the first time I’ve walked up them. The door opens with a keypad, and we step into the dark foyer.

I could almost laugh with relief when the tension from the walk all but disappears as we collectively register the scurry of toenails clicking toward us in the dark room.

The lights go on and I find Taylor, a closet softie, already on one knee, arms full of brown and white dog. I kneel down beside him, wet coat be damned, and wait my turn.

“Doc loves new friends,” Ainsley says, hanging his own coat on the back of a tall chair. I watch him with a smile, loving the way his whole body, his aura, turns calm as he maneuvers around his own space. We should have come here sooner.

After getting my share of pets and drool, I stand and really take the place in.

I have no doubt it was purchased with all these furnishings, or furnished quickly by a service before Ainsley moved in. Inthe short time I’ve been getting to know him, I’ve already learned he wouldn’t choose gray for everything. Gray-stained hardwood flooring, dining table set, and coffee table. Gray glass pendant lighting over a granite countertop. Gray plush couches and wide, comfy looking chairs surrounding a gray shag rug. Dark and light gray woven throw blankets and pillows.

“Gray,” is all I can manage to say as I push to my feet, spinning in place.

Ainsley just laughs. “Yeah. We bought the place furnished. I’m not sure if the people who decorated it were depressed or just wanted the inside to match the outside.”

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