Play by Play (Riggings Brothers 0.5)

He nods.

“I’m going to need more than a nod, player.” I use his nickname I’ve called him for as long as I’ve known him, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

“I’ve never been in love before, Samantha. I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. What I do know is that you are all I think about. Something good happens, I want to call you and tell you. If I’m having a shitty day, I think about how it would be to have you coming home to me to share that with. That was all before Friday night. Now…” He shakes his head. “I can’t stand to not be near you. I missed you something fierce, and it was with great effort I waited until your lunchtime for me to show up at your office. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know what it all means.” His blue eyes find mine. “It might be love. Whatever it is, I never want it to end.”

I take a minute to process his words. “This is how this is going to go,” I tell him. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t speak, waiting to see what I’m going to say next. “I want exclusivity. No other women. Just me.”

“Done.”

“I want lots of your hugs and all of your kisses.”

“Done and done.” A slow smile crosses his face.

“I want communication. We can’t do this… I can’t do this, live in your world of fame without it. No matter what it is, if it happens, I need to know about it. I don’t care if you think it’s going to hurt me or upset me. I need to know about it.”

“Done.”

“Good. Now, eat up. I have to get back to work.” I remove my hands from his and pick up my sandwich. I take a bite but can feel his eyes on mine. “What?” I ask once I’ve swallowed.

“You’re mine, Samantha Wilson.”

I’m not much for the caveman mantra of “you’re mine.” I am my own person, but when he says it, I want the words to be true. “You’re mine, Jase Andrews,” I give his words right back to him.

“Damn right,” he says, picking up his sandwich and taking a huge bite.

We finish lunch in record time, and precisely fifty-five minutes later, I’m back at my desk. “Thanks for lunch,” I tell him, setting my purse on my desk.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“Yes.”

His shoulders relax. “After so long of hearing no, that one simple word is music to my ears.”

“I get off at five. I can have dinner ready by six.”

“I can bring dinner.”

“You need more home-cooked meals. I’ll see you at my place at six.”

“Can’t wait.” He leans in for a kiss.

“Get a room,” Conrad says, interrupting our moment.

“See you tonight, baby.” Jase kisses me one more time. He slaps Conrad on the shoulder and walks away.

“You’ve bewitched him.” Conrad laughs.

“Maybe. I’m not so sure he hasn’t bewitched me,” I say honestly.

“As long as you’re happy, Sam. Jase is a good guy. We all know Royce doesn’t like change. He’ll get used to the idea. Just give him some time.”

“I hope so,” I tell him. What I don’t say is that Royce needs to be on board because today, at a small deli in Downtown Nashville, I gave Jase Andrews my heart.Chapter 5Jase“Spend the weekend with me,” I blurt, just as she’s taking a drink of her sweet tea. It’s Friday, and we’re having lunch together. This time at the pizza place around the corner. I’ve shown up at her office every day this week to take her to lunch. Royce has grumbled about me stealing his assistant every day, and if it were not for the fact that I crave time with her, I would probably be taking her to lunch just to get a rise out of him.

Tapping her chest, she coughs. “I don’t know. I’d have to cancel my plans with Javier.”

“Who the fuck is Javier?” I ask, louder than necessary. My outburst gains me a few stares, but I ignore them.

“He’s my hairdresser. I have an appointment tomorrow at ten.”

I take in a slow breath and exhale just as slow. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs.

“I’ll drive you to see Javier. Any other plans with any other men I should know about?” I’m only half teasing. My heart dropped when she’d uttered his name.

“No, player. Just you.”

“Damn right.” I stand and lean over the booth we’re sitting in and press my lips to hers—only me.

“I’m off at five,” she tells me, which is the only confirmation that I need.

“I’ll be at your place when you get there. Pack a bag, and we can go to dinner.”

“What if we got takeout instead? Maybe Chinese?” she suggests.

“Done.”

“It’s been a long week. I’m just ready to chill. Oh, and I have to go grocery shopping and do laundry for next week, so I’ll have to head home early Sunday afternoon.”