Page 21 of The Games We Play

Seamus.

He stops, stilling between the car and the open door, resting his elbows on either side, as if he knows I need this minute to catch up. Those dark, driven eyes sear through me. Studying me. Testing me.

I blink, questioning my sanity, and look away, then look again, and he’s still there.

Fuck.

He steps back, shutting the door, taking a few steps forward, aligning himself in front of his truck, still saying nothing.

This can’t be right.

I look at his house, my house, then back over to him. I can’t help but huff out a laugh.

I’ve always been a believer in fate, signs, karma, and anything else you want to dress up as coincidence, but this…This is the worst prank of divine intervention that could ever happen in real life.

I gesture my arms up from my sides, in a silentwhat the fuck.

My shoulders slouch as my arms fall to my sides. Defeated. I feel defeated.

Unmoving and frozen, I gaze over the yard between his house and mine as he pulls the sports jacket off his shoulders and shrugs it down his arms. The long sleeve shirt underneath fits him like a glove, wrapping around his corded arms and broad shoulders like a second skin.

Stepping over the white, knee-high fence that separates our homes, he begins making his way toward me.

As he crosses the lawn, nothing has been said between us. The silence thunders through the air and I have no idea what words even make sense at this point.

His face is level with mine as he steps onto the bottom stair, aligning his body directly in front of me.

His colossal size on just the bottom step of my porch is overwhelming. His physical presence is commanding, taking over the space around me and stampeding through my emotions simultaneously. The same feeling of security and adoration wraps around me, and I hate that I feel so comfortable so easily.

“Hey, sunshine.” He says it slowly, like he's savoring the syllables that have been waiting a decade to be spoken.

I glance back over to my neighbor’s house and recall the urgency in which they left, the off market sale, and suddenneedto move a couple months ago. It wasn’t even a month after I saw Seamus at Afterburn that all of that happened.

Holding my eyes closed for a moment as I take a deep breath, I blink before turning back to face him.

“It’s not a coincidence that you’re my new neighbor, is it?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

I stare at him, appraising his body, his face, and studying his beautiful, dark eyes. Recalling all the moments I got lost in them. A drive, a desire, a need burns through them like wildfire, unafraid of consuming everything in its path.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“I wasn’t done loving you yet. And I’m here to prove it.”

I gasp in shock at his confession. My lips part as I open my mouth to fight back, to say something, anything. But nothing comes out.

He looks down at my mouth, and as if on instinct, his tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip. It catches my attention as my eyes bounce between his eyes and mouth. A lopsided, barely there smile replaces his tongue, and then he reaches up, using his thumb and finger to caress my chin.

It’s the first time I haven’t backed away or flinched at his touch. My entire body is heated, not just from the tiniest touch of his skin on mine, but from the raging inferno of everything that I’m feeling.

I want to be pissed, but somehow, he’s suppressing it, extinguishing it with one simple touch along with his stupid, gorgeous face and dangerous eyes.

His thumb traces my bottom lip as he tilts his head, studying the way my body responds to his touch.

Stupid, traitorous body.

He smirks, because he knows. He knows what he does to me. What he’s always done to me.

“Goodnight, Mimi,” he says, pouring ice cold water on the mood of the moment. Stepping down, he makes his way across the yard, the same way he came, and I watch, still in absolute shock.

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