WMIS 03 Play With Me (6 page)

“Whatever
you’re having is fine,” I respond and swallow hard.

“Two
cheeseburgers with fries, please.”

“Hey,
you’re Will Montgomery!” The waitress exclaims.

And
before my eyes, Will transforms. He smiles his cocky smile, his eyes calm, and
he immediately slides into celebrity mode. I’ve seen it on TV, but this is my
first glimpse in person.

“How
are you, sugar?” he asks her.

“I’m
great. Good to see you again.” She winks at him and walks away, but our table
is immediately surrounded by other patrons who overheard the waitress and now
want to talk to Will and get his autograph.

“Hey,
Montgomery! Great to meet you!”

And
for the next fifteen minutes, Will doesn’t falter. He’s charming and smooth,
answers questions, poses for pictures – many of which I’m asked to snap – and
works the crowd in his arrogant, I’m-a-football-star way.

And
completely ignores me.

It
pisses me the fuck off.

In
the middle of all the hoopla, I slide out of the booth and leave. Will doesn’t
even look my way.

I
wonder how long it’ll take him to discover that I’m gone?

Ten
minutes, and about two-cab-ride-miles away, my phone rings.

“Where
the hell are you?” he growls.

“Heading
home,” I respond calmly.

“What
the hell?”

“Look,
Will, I’m not interested in the arrogant, cocky football hero. That’s not who I
agreed to go out with.” I close my eyes and try to calm my pulse. Why does he
make me so fucking nervous?

“Where
are you?” he repeats, clearly pissed.

“In
a cab. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Meg,
I can’t change my job…”

“I’m
not asking you to,” I interrupt him. “But you had to know that you’d get a
helluva lot of attention in a
sports bar
, Will. Showing off how famous
you are is not the way to impress me. I’m not a woman who thinks that scoring a
celebrity is sexy. I think
you’re
sexy, without the football jersey.”
Fuck,
why did I say that?
“So, you go ahead and enjoy your photo op, but I have
better things to do with my time than be ignored. Have a good night.”

This
date so did not count toward the three.
And there probably won’t be any more
dates, either. I just don’t need to date an arrogant ass.

Damn
it.

Chapter
Five

I’m
sorry.

I
stare down at the note that accompanied the dozens of chocolate cupcakes that
were delivered to the hospital just a few minutes ago.

It’s
obvious who they’re from.

He
sent beautiful, intricately decorated, chocolate cupcakes for all of us, not
just me. There’s enough here for all of the patients, the staff… hell, even the
kids’ parents.

“What
did he do?” Jill asks from behind me and I whirl around.

“Stop
reading over my shoulder!”

She
chuckles and picks up a cupcake, sniffs it, and takes a big bite. “What did he
do?” she repeats.

“He
pissed me off.”

“When?”

“Last
night.” I pick up a cupcake and take a big bite.
Mmm… so good.

“Wanna
put these in the lounge?” Jill asks as she licks her fingertips.

“Yeah.
People can graze on them all day, although I don’t think they’ll last that
long.” I smirk and wheel the cart full of the chocolate goodness down the hall.

“You
know, he could have just sent
you
a cupcake,” Jill murmurs beside me,
examining her fingernails.

“I
know.” Damn him for being so sweet.

“Mmm
hmm.”

“Stop.
I get it. He’s nice, but he fucked up yesterday, so it’s okay for me to be
frustrated with him, okay?”

“Okay.”
Jill raises her hands in an “I surrender” motion and snags another treat.
“These are delish.”

“Yeah,
I guess he listened the other day when the kids told him I like chocolate.”

“I
guess he did,” she responds with a smile.

“You
have chocolate in your teeth,” I mutter and pick up another cupcake for myself.

I
arrange the cupcakes on a long table in the lounge and then pull out my phone.

Delicious.
I hit send and
bite my lip. Maybe I should have said more, but he needs to earn it.

Yes,
you are.
He
responds immediately, and I laugh. Suddenly my phone is ringing,
Football
Star
displayed on the caller ID.

“Hey,”
I answer.

“Hey,”
he responds softly. “I wanted to hear your voice, and this is faster than
texting. We’re about to get on the plane to go to San Francisco for Sunday’s
game.”

“Oh,
it’s an away game this week?” I ask, disappointment in my voice. He’ll be out
of town all weekend.

That’s
okay, I work all weekend.

“Yeah,
we’ll be back Sunday night. Look, Meg, I’m sorry for last night. I should have
known that it would get crazy, but I really did just want to take you out for a
good burger.”

“Yeah,
you should have known,” I agree softly.

“Have
I completely fucked up, or are you going to let me make it up to you?”

I
bite my lip and clench my eyes shut. Damn it, what is it about this guy that I
just can’t seem to tell him no?

“Next
time, I pick the spot,” I reply and I hear him sigh in relief.

“Deal.
So, where shall I take you for date number two?”

“Uh,
let’s worry about date number one first.”

“We
already went on date number one,” he growls, making me grin.

“No,
we didn’t. You didn’t take me home and you pissed me off. It doesn’t count.”

“Fuck,”
he mutters and I can imagine him running his hand through his shaggy hair in
frustration. “You’re killing me, honey.”

“How
is that?” I ask and peel the paper off another chocolate cupcake.
Jesus, I’m
going to gain ten pounds today.

“Hold
on,” he takes the phone away from his mouth and calls out to someone, “Hey!
I’ll be right back.”

“What
are you doing?” I ask.

“Finding
a private spot,” he mutters and I hear him walking. A door opens, then closes.
“As I was saying, you’re killing me because I want to taste you, everywhere.”

I
stop chewing the now-cardboard chocolate in my mouth and swallow hard.

“Excuse
me?” I whisper.

“I
want to slowly undress you and taste every delectable inch of you. I want you
squirming and wet.”

“Mission
accomplished,” I mutter and then slap my hand over my mouth as he laughs.

“I
want to see you Sunday night.”

“I
work Sunday night. I’m on swings this weekend. I don’t get off work until two
am.”

“Do
you work that shift often?” he asks quietly and I frown at the change in his
tone.

“It’s
a rotation. We all work all the shifts. But I only work three twelve hour days
a week, so it’s not so bad.”

“So,
let me get this straight. You go home in the middle of the night to a house in
North Seattle with no alarm system?” His voice is steel, and my stomach
clenches.

“It’s
no big deal, Will.”

“I’m
installing an alarm system in your townhouse on Monday.” His voice is firm.

“No,
you’re not.”
What the hell?

“Yes,
I am. Don’t argue with me on this, Megan. I’m gone a lot; I need to know you’re
safe.”

“Will,
we’ve been out on one date…”

“A-ha!
So it was a date,” he exclaims triumphantly.

“Don’t
change the subject. You don’t need to install anything in my house. I’m fine.”

“We’ll
see.”

“Is
that a ‘we’ll see’ so I shut up and you do it anyway?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yes.
Your safety isn’t something I’ll fuck with. If you have to go home in the
middle of the night alone, I need to know that you’re safe.”

“Will,
I…”

“I
have to go,” he interrupts, and I’m instantly disappointed in not only the loss
of his fun and carefree tone, but that I won’t see him all weekend. “Are you
going to watch the game on Sunday?” he asks, his tone softened.

“Is
it a morning or afternoon game?” I ask.

“Afternoon.”

“Yeah,
I usually watch the games with the kids. I’ll be watching in between work
stuff.”

“Okay,
pay attention at half-time. I’ll make sure I’m on camera as we head off the
field, and I’ll say hi.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep,
watch for me.”

“Okay.
Have a safe trip.”

“
You
be safe, sweetheart. I’ll text you when I can.”

“Okay,
bye.”

“Later.”

And
he’s gone.

* *
*

“NO
NO NO!!” Nick exclaims from his position on the leather couch in the lounge on
Sunday afternoon. There are roughly a dozen patients, parents, a few staff on
their breaks, all with their eyes glued to the enormous television watching the
football game.

The
kids are wearing the team gear that the guys gave them last week. Will had a
spread of food delivered around noon of sandwiches, chips, popcorn and soda.

What
is it with this man and food?

So
everyone is munching and enjoying the game. Instead of a hospital lounge, it
looks like someone’s living room during the Super Bowl.

The
kids love the sense of normalcy, and I can’t wait to thank Will for it.

Everyone
groans as Will is tackled on the field and I hold my breath until he gets back
up and walks steadily to his teammates.

Dear
God, I can’t watch him get tackled again.
How does he not get hurt?

The
first half of the game comes to an end, and Will’s team is winning, twenty-one
to seven.

My
eyes are glued to the television, watching intently for my message from Will,
and sure enough, right before they go to commercial, he’s on the screen. His
hair is wet with sweat and plastered to his forehead, face is dirty, and he’s
breathing hard from exertion, but he grins at the camera and taps his nose with
his forefinger, then points to the camera and mouths, “miss you.”

Well,
shit, he’s sweet.

Without
over-thinking it, I pull my phone out and text him.

Miss
you, too, football star.

* *
*

“Miss
McBride?”

“Yeah.”
I croak and stare at the man through blurry eyes. He’s standing on my porch, in
a uniform of some kind, holding a clipboard. I run my hand through my hair and
frown. “What time is it?”

“Ten
in the morning, ma’am.”

Fuck,
it’s early.

“What’s
up?” I ask and wish for coffee.

“I’m
Doug from Home Security Systems. I have a work order to install a system in
your home.” He smiles politely and I scowl.

“I
didn’t order you.”

“I
know, Mr. Montgomery did.”

“How
do you know?” I ask.

“Because
I own the company, ma’am. He asked me to do it personally.”

I
sigh deeply and lean my forehead against the door. I guess there’s no getting
out of this.

“How
long will it take?” I ask, resigned to letting it happen.

“Most
of the day. This is a full system.”

“How
much is my monthly bill going to be?” I ask and juggle some things around in my
head. I could disconnect the cable.

“It’s
been paid in full for the next year,” he replies as he makes notes on his
clipboard.

“Seriously?”

“Yep.
Can I get started?”

“Go
ahead. I’ll be in the shower, but then I’ll be around if you have questions.”

“That’s
fine, I’ll start outside anyway.”

I
trudge back to my bedroom and flop down on the bed. I grab my phone and dial
Will’s number.

“Hey,
gorgeous,” he whispers.

“Why
are you whispering?” I whisper back.

“Because
we’re watching tape from yesterday’s game. Why are you whispering?” I hear the
smile in his voice and it makes me grin.

“Because
you’re whispering.”

“Did
the alarm guy show up?”