Page 80 of How to Play the Player

Jonathan nods slowly. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

I chuckle. “Course you do. What’s important is that she knows?—”

“That you love her,” Jonathan interjects, finishing my sentence. My brother has always been able to catch on quickly to things. “That you never stopped, even when you were too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” I don’t know what could, or will, happen when I do this, but I can’t just sit and wait any longer.

Jonathan claps a hand on my shoulder. “Then what are you waiting for? Go fix this and get her back.”

“But I can’t. It’s not even six?—”

Jake rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, Nathan. The company won’t fall apart if you leave half an hour early on a Friday.”

Jonathan shakes his head in mock exasperation. “As your CEO, I’mbeggingyou to use your PTO and vacation days for once.”

You know what? Fuck it.

I grab my jacket off the back of my chair and pull the small velvet box from my desk drawer, slipping it into my pocket. Not because I expect to use it tonight—that would be presumptuous beyond belief—but as a reminder of everything at stake.

The drive to Quinn’s office feels interminable, every red light an unbearable delay. I call her directly, relieved when she picks up on the third ring.

“Nathan?” Her voice carries surprise.

“Are you still at the office?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.

A pause. “Yes, wrapping up some client emails. Why?”

“I need to see you. It’s important.” I hesitate, then add, “Please.”

Another pause, longer this time. “I’ll be here for about thirty more minutes.”

“Thank you. I’m on my way.”

By the time I pull into the parking lot of her office building, my heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. This is it. No turning back now.

When I reach her office, I can see her through the glass walls of her modest space, phone pressed to her ear as she gestures expressively with her free hand. The sight of her hits me like a sucker punch to the gut—her blond hair catching the fading sunlight, the curve of her lips as she speaks, the way her body moves with a grace that still haunts my dreams. My mouth goes dry. My cock is in full salute, just for her.

Oh, god. Even after everything, I want her to be mine now more than I ever did before. The dreams I’ve had of her with me don’t even come close.

I’ve been fighting a losing battle trying to forget her. Because to forget her is like trying to forget to live, to breathe. All last year, I have felt nothing but pain and loneliness. At the time, I didn’t give it much thought. But feeling what I feel now—this need, this drive, to pull her in and never let go ever again—is something I don’t want to avoid anymore.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I burst into her office. Christ, the closer I am to her, the more I feel like an absolute wreck. With a gasp, she looks up at me in surprise.

“Y-you’re here.”

“Told you I’d be.” I step up to her desk.

“Tammi, let me call you back.” There’s a pause. “Yes, Monday morning. Thank you.”

When she ends the call, she stares up at me with searching eyes. “Nathan.” The way she says my name hardens my resolve further. I barely have any left by this point. “What are you?—”

“I know it’s a Friday evening and you probably have plans,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “But I was hoping you might give me thirty minutes.”

Wariness is all over her features, but curiosity wins out. “What’s this about?”

“Fulfilling my end of our bet,” I reply honestly. “And hopefully making things right between us, if that’s even possible.”

I pull out my phone, my finger already hovering over theTikTokapp.

---