With Me In Seattle: Play With Me Part 4

"No, I don't, sweetheart."

"Why not?" someone asks.

"Well, there is one woman I'm interested in, but I don't think she likes me back."

"Well then she's stupid," Liza retorts, and everyone laughs.

"No, she's smart," Trevon jokes, punching Will in the shoulder.

"Who is it?" Nick asks him.

"Actually, you know her," Will begins and I bite my lip and feel my eyes widen. Holy s.h.i.t! "I'd love to get to know Meg better."

"Well then ask her out," someone out of my line of vision advises him.

"I don't think she's interested in me."

"We can help," Liza offers. "We know her really well."

"Um, okay." Will suddenly sounds nervous and I grin.

"She loves music," my patient, Bree tells him.

"And chocolate," offers Mike.

"And she likes hugs," my thirteen-year-old Jason chimes in.

"But if you f.u.c.k with her, I'll tear your heart out of your chest, cancer be d.a.m.ned," Nick states clearly, harshly.

"Nick!" his mom exclaims. My feet are rooted to the floor. I should go take care of this, but I can't move. I want to hear Will's response. Silence fills the room and I picture the two guys, one almost a man and one a grown up, staring at each other.

Finally, Will says, "You know, Nick, I already had a lot of respect for you just from our chat earlier today, but now I just think you're bada.s.s. You're a good man. You don't need to worry about Meg."

I walk into the room in time to see Nick nod soberly and look at the floor. The other four players' smirks have left their handsome faces, and are instead looking at Nick with respect.

"Okay, everyone," my voice is bright, not giving a clue that I just heard the conversation about Will and me. "I know you probably have a lot more questions for our guests, but I think it's time we let them off the hook. They've spent a lot of their time with us today."

There are a few groans, but the room erupts into applause.

"Thank you!" The kids call out, and all five players look a bit embarra.s.sed, but boast huge, proud smiles.

"You're very welcome," Will responds when the applause dies down.

"Good luck on Sunday," Bree's dad calls out. "I have money riding on it!"

"We'll see what we can do," Sanders responds.

I follow the players back to the elevators, Will and I lagging behind the others. He takes my hand in his, but I pull away and look around.

"Not at my job, Will."

"Oh, so I can hold your hand outside of work?" he asks with a c.o.c.ky grin.

"I didn't say that." d.a.m.n him.

"Walk me to my car." He murmurs down to me, so only I can hear.

"You didn't ride with the others?" I ask.

"No, Trevon stopped at the training center on his way here to get the Hawks gear, and we all met here."

"Okay."

When we reach the parking garage, Will's teammates each hug me tight.

"You do not have an easy job, little lady," Kip mutters, his face grim.

"Days like today make my job fantastic, Kip. Seriously, thank you, all of you for coming today. You just don't know what you did for those kids."

"Why haven't you asked us to come before?" Jerrel asks and Will coughs, choking on his own spit.

"Actually, I have. Several times. But I always got a no."

"f.u.c.king Susan," Trevon mutters darkly. "From now on, contact us directly. I'm a.s.suming you have Montgomery's number?"

"Uh, no." I shake my head and press my lips together.

"Well, h.e.l.l, I'll give you my number," Kip grins. "And not just to visit you at work."

"Back up, Sutherland," Will warns. "I got this."

"Good." Kip winks at me and the guys all go climb in their own vehicles to leave, wave at us and are gone.

"So," Will murmurs and steps toward me. Despite the magnetic pull I feel, I take a step back.

"I should go back up."

"I want to see you, Meg." Well, he's blunt, isn't he?

"I don't think that's a good idea," I murmur.

His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Why not?"

"This is a busy time for you, Will, and my job is busy too. h.e.l.l, I haven't heard from you for the past two weeks, so I just a.s.sumed..."

"Number one, don't a.s.sume. Ever." His voice is hard and immediately grabs my attention. "Number two, yes, we're busy, but we can find the time. And number three, I'm interested."

"How did I end up naked the morning after the party?" I blurt out, ashamed that I can't remember. His eyes twinkle mischievously.

"You woke up naked?" he asks, a half-grin spreading on his handsome face.

"Yeah, but I remember you making me put the t-shirt on."

"You were still in the t-shirt when I left that morning. I told you, no hanky panky."

"I'm surprised that you didn't try anything."

"Oh, trust me, sugar, having your tight, naked a.s.s cradled against my d.i.c.k was d.a.m.n alluring." He steps closer to me and tips my chin up with his fingers. "But I wouldn't take advantage of you when you don't have your wits about you. When I take you, you'll know exactly what we're doing, what you're feeling, and I won't stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbors know my name."

Holy f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

He brushes his lips over mine once, then twice, before cupping my face firmly in his big hands and sinking into me, kissing me soundly. G.o.d, it's just as good as I remember, if not better, and I didn't think that was possible.

If I were wearing panties, they'd be soaked; I'm panting, and I just want to climb him. He pulls back and gently brushes loose hairs off my face.

"You're so sweet, baby."

s.h.i.t.

I step out of his embrace and rub my hands down my face, trying to clear my head.

"Will, I'm only going to tell you this once. Please, don't ever call me baby. Ever." My voice is controlled, firm. He scowls at me.

"Why?"

"I don't like it."

"Why?" he asks again.

"My deadbeat father used to call me that, during the few times I saw him, and it gives me the yucks. Just don't, okay?"

"Okay. Never again." He shrugs and smiles at me. "Sorry."

I shake my head and start to retreat back to the elevator. "I have to get back."

"I'll call you," he promises, but I just shake my head again and smirk.

"Sure you will," I respond sarcastically, wave, and disappear into the elevator.

Chapter Four.

"Meg, these just came for you."

I'm sitting at my computer, responding to email and drinking a Starbucks, settling in before I have to take report from the night shift nurse and dig into work. Jill hands me a huge bouquet of flowers, pink roses with calla lilies. I bury my nose in them and breathe them in.

I know who they're from, but pull the card off the plastic holder and grin at the note.

You forgot to give me your number. Mine is 206-555-3598. Use it, please.

So, he's a little bossy.

"You gonna call him?" Jill asks from behind me, clearly reading over my shoulder and I laugh.

"I'll text him for now."

"h.e.l.l, I'd do a lot more than text him. Have you seen him?"

I roll my eyes at her and tuck the card in my scrub pocket. "I was here yesterday, remember?"

"The kids are still talking about it. They were really nice." Jill grabs a chart and begins making notes.

"Yeah, they were." I murmur and pull my phone out of my pocket. I add Will's number to my contact list, but instead of adding his name, I label it Football Star. I smirk and open a fresh text screen.

Thank you for the beautiful flowers.

I hit send and finish my email and coffee, and begin taking report from my co-worker.

About an hour later, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

You're welcome. Dinner tonight?

He doesn't waste any time, does he? Tonight is my only evening off through the weekend. Starting tomorrow I'm working swing shifts until Monday, and let's be honest, I want to see him.

Sure. I'm off work at six.

"Good for you, girl." I whirl at Jill's voice and glare at her.

"Do you always read over my shoulder?" I demand.

"No, but now that I know there's going to be juicy stuff to read, I will be." She winks and sashays past me into a patient's room.

I'll pick you up at seven.

"You look fantastic," Will smiles when I open my front door to him. I'm in a white BoHo-style chiffon dress with a soft lace overlay, the hem hitting me mid-thigh, and my brown cowboy boots. Several long necklaces hang around my neck, a chunky cuff bracelet sits on my left wrist, and my hair is down.

"What did you do to your hair?" He asks.

I chuckle run my fingers through it. "I added a few pink strands. The kids at work think it's fun, and so do I."

"Me, too." He smiles softly and steps back, ushering me out the door.