Page 140 of Home Game

“Can we go back to normal?”

“Whatever that is.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “You good? You think you can sleep?”

“If I promise not to touch you, can you stay here?”

“I should go back to my room.”

“You can trust me, Ryan!”

He eased me off his body and dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head. “It’s me I don’t trust.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad.”

He walked across the room.

“So, we’re friends?”

He turned and looked back. “No matter what, Zoey, we’ll always be friends.”

My heart eased a fraction when he left his adjoining door wide open. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was probably more than I deserved.

I lay curled around one pillow with my eyes glued to the open door. I needed to become a better person. The type of woman Ryan wanted in his life. I needed to get a job, learn to stand on my own two feet and find a way to realize my own dreams. Maybe then, I’d be worthy of having Ryan Parker in my life.

After that,things went back to normal between Ryan and me. Mostly. He joked around, teased me, talked and made eye contact again. But it still felt weird between us. Or maybe I just felt weird.

The problem was, I wanted more kisses from him. And not chaste, sweet kisses. I wanted the pin-me-against-the-wall ravishing kisses that made my head spin and my knees weak.

I knew he didn’t want to have sex with me, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about it.

All. The. Time.

Even worse, he seemed to be oblivious. He was friendly and patient but there was zero attraction in his eyes when he looked at me.

It depressed me. I told myself that I needed to let it go, but I seemed incapable of not thinking about him that way.

When we were in a cab,driving back to our place from the airport, Ryan’s phone rang.

“It’s for you,” he said, handing me his phone.

“Hello?”

“Zoey, it’s Krista. Have you been doing work for someone by the name of Frank?”

“Frank, the accountant?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been helping some players with their receipts. They all use Frank.”

“Frank wants to meet up with you.”

“What? Why?” Panic seized me. Had I done something wrong with the receipts?

“He wants to talk to you about a job.”

“What?” I squeaked. “For real?”

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