Page 137 of Thrown for a Loop
I make a noise of disbelief.An extra couple of million.
“Besides—Ilikeit here. I don’t want to start over, unless it’s with you. Was the job offer decent?”
“It was better than decent,” I grumble. “That’s why it’s so hard to discuss with you. I want it.”
“Badly,” he guesses.
“Yes.”
He strokes my hair. “Then let’s make that happen. I have an idea.”
Chapter 45
First, we go back to his place and have a lot of sex.
And bya lotI mean thirty-six hours’ worth. The Legends have the following day off, and we barely get out of his bed, except to order breakfast from the deli. And we only get dressed when it’s time for Marnie to show up with her weekly delivery.
Meanwhile, we break in every corner of his giant bed, plus that giant sofa in the living room, followed by the luxury shower.
“We haven’t hit the terrace yet,” Chase says as we lie in towels on his bed, still recovering.
“It’s March. And Tremaine can see the terrace from his apartment.”
“Those are very good points,” he says. “Plus, I might never move again. Until tomorrow morning, that is.”
When morning comes, we drink coffee and sample Marnie’s fresh bread. Then Chase has to go to practice, and I have to go home and change into my most presentable outfit.
I meet Chase back at headquarters a couple of hours later, where he’s waiting in the lobby for me. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He holds his hand out, palm up.
I take it.
We ride the escalator together, all the way up to four.
Darcy is seated behind her desk. She breaks into a bright grin when she sees us. “What’s up? I’ve been texting you all weekend.”
“We were busy,” Chase says. He points at Sharp’s office. “He in?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Good enough,” Chase says. He leads me over to the door and pounds with his free hand. “Sharp?”
“On a call!” the man yells.
“We need a meeting,” Chase says, opening the door.
“Now?” Sharp barks.
“Perfect,” Chase says, striding in.
“Some asshole just barged into my office,” Sharp barks into his phone. “I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and turns to us with a stormy face. “If I wanted to be interrupted, I’d go home to my wife. Now what do you want?”
“This is really about whatyouwant,” Chase counters, offering me the first chair and taking the second. “And that thing is me. You need me on the roster next year, but you don’t want to pay up.”
“Clearly.” The older man spreads his hands. “Like that’s a crime?”
