Page 46 of Make the Play

The corner of my mouth lifts because she’s goddamn right, and I love that for her. That man wouldn’t hesitate to runstraight into battle to defend her honor. And the best part is, she knows it.

I make my way back to my office, planning out how this is going to go down in my head. I’ll act normal. Business as usual. Like this is any other contract I’m delivering for a client.

Paperwork. Logistics.

I get everything prepped for the upcoming meeting, making sure the conference room is set, and actively try not to spiral over the fact that in approximately ten minutes, Chase is going to be in this building, in this office, in my professional domain, looking way too pleased with himself over his stupid lucky win.

As I’m weaving my way back through the open plan section of Pulse Marketing, I feel like I’ve finally got a handle on things. I can survive this day.

A junior waves to me from one of the desks, calling me over to look at a proposal she’s working on, and I stroll over, bending down to look at her computer screen. This is good. This is work. This is a distraction.

“BABY! Look what I got you!”

I cease to exist.

The entire floor stills, and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards stops. Every single Pulse employee within earshot turns to look, because of course they do.

I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second, like maybe when I open them, this won’t be happening. Because I already know who it is. Loud and far too familiar.

I turn and stand slowly, already bracing for the absolute nightmare I know is waiting for me.

Chase Walton, standing in the middle of my office like he didn’t just disrupt an entire floor’s workday, grinning like an asshole.

And worse, he’s holding a coffee.Mycoffee. Or at least one that appears to be the same one I get every day from my favoritecafé. The one I go out of my way for and never shut up about because it’sthatgood.

Charlie, emerging from her office, chokes on her decaf and covers her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking. Oh, she is having the time of her life.

The open office space is dead silent, filled only with a hundred variations of one single thought: Did Chase Walton just call Zoe Carlsonbaby?

I inhale sharply, striding toward him and snatching the coffee, dragging him towards the hallway of the conference rooms by his arm.

He chuckles, and I feel the vibration in my hand. “Good morning to you, too, sweetheart.”

“Why the fuck have you got me a coffee?” I hiss under my breath.

He just smiles, so damn pleased with himself.

“Thought you might want one. And I know younever turn down a cup.”

A flicker of unbidden heat and rage pulses through me. His voice is so fucking obnoxious, especially when he remembers everything.

The silence behind me is unbearable, only punctured by Charlie’s muffled laughter coming closer as I grab it from his hands and slowly take a sip.

Chase turns his attention to her, still the picture of insufferable cockiness. “Hey, Mama. Welcome back.” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “You look good.”

Charlie leans in to return his peck. “Liar.”

“You look better than Zoe, at least. She’s going through it.”

I stare at him, deadpan. “I will end your bloodline.”

Chase tuts, completely unfazed. “Babe, violence? This early in our relationship?”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Sweetheart, you need to be a little more affectionate if this is gonna work.”

“Oh, I’m affectionate,” I say sweetly. “Just not toward you.”

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