Page 57 of Play Dirty

“I’ve got you, buddy.” I ruffle his hair and wink at Stevie as we start loading the dishwasher.

“Don’t let it bother you,” she whispers as we work. “Just document everything for your lawyer.”

“Yeah.” I nod gratefully.

I’m not sure how but she’s become important to me in a relatively short time—and we’re not even sleeping together.

A year ago, I never could have imagined that I’d be in my kitchen with a literal supermodel, loading the dishwasher together and splitting up bath duty. To be fair, we didn’t know each other a year ago, but it still feels somewhat surreal.

I knew who Stevie was but she wasn’t a real person to me, just a friend of a friend who’d been in the news a lot—and not for anything good. I knew her by reputation before that, of course, between her magazine covers and commercials, but she was nothing but another celebrity.

Now she’s my friend.

Maybe more than a friend.

Because if she wants me to stay with her tonight, there’s no way I’m saying no.

Chapter18

Stevie

I’m exhaustedafter spending the day with the kids, but it’s a nice exhaustion. The kind you feel after a wonderful day at the beach or on vacation. It seems odd to think of my day with Marty and his family as a vacation, but that’s what it’s like for me.

Even before our falling out, my sister was always jealous of my modeling career, consistently reminding me that she’s prettier than I am—whatever that means. I don’t argue because no matter what either of us thinks, beauty is subjective. And if she wanted to be a model, why didn’t she pursue it? So while we got back in touch after the incident last year, we definitely don’t have what I would consider a traditional family.

My mother was never particularly traditional anyway. I left home at sixteen to model and I think she resented that. And my father moved on without looking back so my family is pretty much just me.

I’ve started to build one with friends like Chey and Saylor, but that type of thing takes time and I don’t trust easily.

“You look tired,” Marty says when the kids are all asleep and his mother goes up to shower. “I should probably take you home.”

I can’t stop yawning and cover my mouth. “I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

“I was going to shower but let me take you home first…”

“You could…” I hesitate. Why is this so hard? It shouldn’t be.

But it is.

Because I don’t want to screw this up.

“…shower at my place,” I finally finish.

Our eyes lock and his are filled with…pure desire.

Lots of men have looked at me this way in the past, but none of them turned me on like he does.

“You sure?” he asks.

“I was sure this morning,” I reply softly.

“Let me grab a few things and let my mom know I’ll be out all night.”

“Will she be upset that you’re staying out all night again?”

He chuckles. “My mom came to help, and she’s an early bird anyway. She loves being with the kids, and I’ll be home relatively early. She’s happy to handle mornings alone.”

“I guess we have a plan then.” I sink onto the couch as I wait for him to get ready, checking messages on my phone.

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