Page 2 of Play Hard
Panic was clear in her tone and I didn’t like it. I never liked hearing or seeing her anything other than smiling and happy, but right now, I’d settle for calm. So I pressed thehelpbutton and waited.
“I cannot freakin’ believe this,” she continued. “Of all the days, in all the buildings, it had to be this one.”
“You mean it had to be with me.” I wasn’t going to reply, had just reminded myself of how long ago we were a couple and every day that we weren’t. But the words tumbled free. I swear it felt like I might need a muzzle to be in the same space as her.
This wasn’t the reunion I planned. Hell, I never planned for a reunion with Serra. Never wanted to see her ass again, not after she eviscerated my heart. Yet, here we were and besides how fuckin’ fine she still was, all I could think about was every unanswered question, every doubt and misconception that had been hiding away in some deep recess of my soul.
She carried a black leather purse, a large one. As I recalled those were her favorites because she never liked to be caught unprepared. It always amazed me how much crap she could actually carry around with her in those things. A thin strap held it on her left shoulder as she folded her arms over her chest again.
“Still high on yourself I see,” she replied. “But I really am more concerned with being stuck on a damn elevator when all I wanted was to pay a tax bill.”
If she thought she was the only unlucky one today, she could think again. I had the pleasure of meeting with council members Gayla Anton, Brenden Carter and his assistant—who I was positive he was fuckin’—to discuss the hold up with the bar’s permits. We were a little over a month away from our planned Juneteenth celebration and we still didn’t have the town’s required paperwork to facilitate our field day activities.
Historically, a majority of the city council was against anything Game Changers—the sports bar my brothers by choice and I opened two years ago—did in Providence. Once upon a time we’d been outcasts even though we’d all grown up here. Ethan, Jeret, Del, Lance, Rock and me. Through different circumstances we’d all landed at the House when we were between the ages of fifteen and sixteen. From that point on we’d been as tight as blood brothers and, to many of the people in this town, their biggest present threat. Even though, we were now all adults who’d ventured out to build careers, only to end up right back here again trying to make a difference while simultaneously proving a point, they still hated us.
“Are you even listening to me?” Her question yanked me from those thoughts, and I was just about to respond when another voice filled the space.
“Hello? Captain Robbins here.”
The raspy voice coming from the speaker on the control board was familiar. An image of the six-foot-tall man who was still holding on to the pretty-boy curls that had helped him pull plenty of girls in our high school years, but had now receded a few inches from his forehead, popped into my mind.
“Yeah. Ebay, it’s Noah. Get your ass over here and fix this broken-down elevator before I develop PTSD and have to sue this annoying ass town,” I said, my tone full of all the conflicting emotions soaring through my system.
There was a chuckle, followed by a fake cough then his reply, “That’s Captain Eugene Robbins to you, cheatin’ ass Noah Jordan.”
Ebay—as we’d always called him because as a kid he’d been ruthlessly teased about being named Eugene after his father—would always be a sore loser. On another day, that thought would have me laughing along with him. But not today, not when I was having trouble breathing… and not because I was afraid of being stuck in an elevator, because I wasn’t. I just didn’t think it was the smartest thing to be stuck in an elevator with Serra Ward.
“Ah, Captain Robbins,” she spoke up as if she knew I’d been just thinking about her. “Can you please send someone to help us out of here? Please.”
She was scared. I could hear it in the way her voice caught on that last please. But I knew Serra, at least I thought I had a long time ago. She wasn’t afraid of anything.
“Yeah, move your ass, Robbins,” I replied.
“Hold tight, ma’am,” was Ebay’s response. “Sending one of my men over now to get you out of there and away from that reprobate.”
I almost responded to his jibe at me, but her sigh of relief caught my attention and I turned to face her again. She’d backed up against the side wall of the elevator. Her arms were at her sides, that big purse hanging from one hand while she let her head fall back. I watched as she closed her eyes. My gaze eventually dropped to the rise and fall of her chest as she seemed to be trying to steady her breathing. Trying to remain calm in this unexpected situation.
I knew I should get my ass over to the other side of the elevator. To give her space to get herself together and to keep my damn mouth shut about our past. It was water under the bridge. Thick, murky water that had at one point threatened todrown me in a sea of hurt and disappointment. A familiar place for me which made that visit much more annoying. But I didn’t heed my own warning. Much like I never listened to any of the other advice given to me by many of the well-meaning folks I’ve crossed paths with.
I closed the space between us until I was so close I wondered if I’d leave here with her scent on me. I wouldn’t complain if that were the case. Then the tips of my fingers brushed along the line of her jaw. Her eyes, deep brown eyes that I’d lost my soul in so many moons ago, opened slowly.
“Noah,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
I frowned because fuck if I knew. What was clear as day was that I wasn’t about to stop.
My fingers continued tracing the soft skin, over her chin, to the other side of her jaw, until it brushed over her small gold hoop earring. Her breath caught, and my gaze went to her lips. Covered in a pink gloss, those pretty fuckin’ lips parted, and her tongue snaked out to swipe her lower one.
Alarm bells went off in my head, my heart pounded against my ribcage, and my dick reminded me that there was nothing about this woman that I didn’t like. Not one damn thing. So I did the only thing I could at this point, the only thing that made sense, only it didn’t really make sense at all.
I kissed her.
CHAPTER 2
Serra
Ihate you. I miss you. I need to taste you.
Those were the three thoughts floating through my mind. The words drifting along the clouds where my feet were firmly planted as Noah Jordan’s tongue moved inside of my mouth.
