Page 12 of Playing for Keeps
“Mind if I hang on to you?” I ask sheepishly. “I’m not used to all that fizz.”
He chuckles and takes my arm, looping it through his. “Better?”
I nod.
We start walking in what I think is the direction of his apartment, and my stomach rumbles loudly.
“You know you said you could get tacos at two in the morning? How about pizza at midnight? I’m starving.”
He laughs. “Sure. I know just the place. We can grab one and eat it at my place.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re stepping into Wyatt’s building with a bag full of barbecue chicken pizza that smells like heaven, fries on the side, and cookies for dessert. The champagne is definitely working its magic. If Wyatt wasn’t holding onto me, I’d be walking in circles.
“Good evening, Mr. Brookes,” the concierge greets as we enter the sleek, modern foyer.
“Hey, Fred. How’s it going?” Wyatt asks, offering a casual wave.
“All good, sir. Hope you had a nice evening.”
Wyatt glances down at me, grinning. “I did, thanks.”
“Goodnight, sir,” Fred says, his smile polite.
“Night, Fred.”
As we move deeper into the building, the elevators come into view. I stop short, tugging back on Wyatt’s arm.
“I need the stairs,” I say, scanning the space. “Where are the stairs?”
“You can’t take the stairs, Ivy. I live in the penthouse.”
“I can’t take the elevator,” I say quickly, my voice tight. “I’ll meet you up there.”
“I’m on the twenty-ninth floor. Why can’t you take the elevator?”
My eyes widen. “Twenty-ninth?” He nods. “Shit. Maybe I’ll just sleep in my car.”
“You’re not sleeping in your car.”
The panic rises in my chest. I try to rationalize, to tell myself I’m being ridiculous, but my body isn’t listening. “No, Wyatt. Please,” I whisper. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
He frowns and takes my hand, his thumbs brushing slow, calming circles across my skin. It helps, barely.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
I take a shaky breath, trying to find the words. “When I was eighteen, I got stuck in an elevator. It jammed between floors. The fire department had to get us out... and they only just made it before the car dropped. Ever since, I just can’t.”
He lets out a sigh. “That won’t happen here, I promise. These elevators are serviced monthly. They’re safe.” He pauses. “What if I hold your hand? You keep your eyes on me, and I’ll guide you in. It’s fast. You’ll be in my apartment before you can even overthink it.”
“Or I could just take the stairs,” I say shakily.
He glances down at my heels. “You’d never make it.”
I let out a loud breath. “You’ve got a point.”
He squeezes my hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You trust me, right?” I nod slowly. “Then you know I’ve got you. Okay?”
