by Linda Verji
THE GAMES WE PLAY
A Sizzle & Burn Novel (Book #2)
Linda Verji
Copyright © 2017 by Linda Verji
www.lindaverji.com
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent from the author, excepting brief quotes in reviews.
This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, businesses or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Alexa Books
Cover Design by Duong Covers
An Interracial BWWM Romance
Rated 18+ for Explicit Sex & Strong Language
Titles In This Series
Yes, Chef (#1)
The Games We Play (#2)
The Love Contract (#3)
For information on Linda Verji’s other books and series:
Table of Contents
Description
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
What’s Next?
Description
Ex-baseball player, Roman Teller is everything a woman could want; tall, handsome and successful. And April Merit is no exception. She’s had a crush on him from the moment his foul ball knocked her out. Ten years later, Roman’s still sexy as sin – and way out of her league. But that only makes her want him more.
As a celebrity, Roman has had all sorts of women throw themselves at him. He’s learnt the hard way never to trust any of them – not even April. Even though he wants April in every way possible, she’s a no-go zone. And so far he’s done a great job of resisting her charms.
But that all changes when another man walks into her life.
‘I love everything about you, except the fact that you’re not mine’
Anonymous
CHAPTER 1
“You’re cheating.”
Unable to ignore such a provocative statement, April Merit leveled a look at her best-friend, Alvina ‘Vina’ Song, and asked, “How am I cheating?”
“I don’t know how you’re doing it-” Vina glared at April. “- but you’re definitely doing it.”
Their other friend, Snow Harrison, laughed. “V, there is no way to cheat in rock-paper-scissors.”
Though it was a Sunday evening, all three friends were currently lounging around April’s apartment in their sleepwear with their faces caked in avocado facial masks. Though April’s apartment was the tiniest of their respective homes, it was the most convenient for a sleep-over. Snow lived with her fiancée and their boss, Greyson Teller, while Vina still lived with her meddlesome parents and grandmother.
There couldn’t be three more different women. Vina was the tiniest of them all. At just over five feet, the petite Asian was a full head shorter than April. She was also the only non-black person in their group. April was the tallest of all three, a shade lighter than Snow and model-thin. Often, she wished that she had Snow’s more average height, curvy body and dimples, or even Vina’s waist-length, silky hair and ageless facial features that made her seem decades younger than her thirty-one years.
Then again – she’d probably still find something to complain about.
“There has to be a way to cheat,” Vina insisted. Her narrow eyes narrowed even further as she asked, “How can she win all seven times?”
“That’s God’s way of saying that he wants me to be Maid of Honor.” April chuckled.
For the last couple of months they had been preparing for Snow’s wedding which was set to happen in about two months. Though the three of them now worked in separate branches of Tellers, they had maintained their friendship, which meant that Snow had had a hard time settling on which one of them would be her Maid of Honor. To make matters worse, neither Vina nor April were willing to let go of the position without a fight. After weeks of intense lobbying, they’d finally agreed that the only way to settle it was by playing rock-paper-scissors.
April had won. All seven times.
She wasn’t cheating… technically. Honestly, was it her fault that Vina was predictable? No. Was it her fault that Vina only put out rock or scissors and alternated between the two with comical predictability? No. The world is made up of two kinds of people – the gullible, and those who were born to take advantage of their gullibility.
Eyes wide with fake innocence, April offered, “Don’t worry you can be the Maid of Honor at my wedding.”
Giving her a look filled with malice, Vina taunted, “To who? Roman?”
Snow chuckled. “Ooh! She went there.”
“That is so below the belt,” April said, not finding it the least bit funny.
If she could take back one thing during her tenure as hostess at Tellers, it would be being so open about her feelings for Roman Teller, Greyson’s cousin and business partner. She hadn’t explicitly said she was in love with him but back then she was too unpracticed to hide her adoring looks and everyone had noticed it. Now, she wished she’d been more secretive because she wouldn’t have ended up the butt of so many jokes.
Maybe if Roman had reciprocated her feelings it wouldn’t have been different, but he didn’t. Even though he was well aware of her crush, he’d made it perfectly clear that they were just friends.
Just friends and nothing more.
Ugh!
“Vina, stop teasing her,” Snow ordered. “We still have a lot to do.” She pointed to the seating-chart on the coffee-table. “We haven’t finished deciding on who’s sitting where, and we still have to handwrite the notes that will go with the thank you gift.”
With a groan, all three ladies scooted closer to the coffee table and focused on the task at hand.
After several minutes of moving and arranging guests on the seating-chart, April noticed that Snow had put both her brothers in the same table as her parents. She said, “Don’t put Antonio with my parents.”
“They’re feuding again?” Her friends gave her shocked looks.
“Mm.” April nodded.
“What is it this time?” Snow asked.
“He’s taken another semester off,” April explained. Though her younger brother was ridiculously smart, he was more interested in being a stunt cyclist than in college, to the horror of their parents.
“That boy.” Vina shook her head disapprovingly before offering, “Send him to my family’s table.”
April’s jaw dropped. “Isn’t your mother afraid of black men?”
“She is.” Vina smirked. “And that’s why you should send him there. She needs a good scare – and it will keep her too occupied to search the wedding guests for a husband for me.”
“You’re evil.” Both April and Snow chuckled. Then April asked, “But why should I send my brother there? It will be like sending him to wolves.”
April leveled an open-mouthed stare at her friend. “My God, you’re twisted.”
“Thanks.” Vina preened. “I try.”
With a laugh, the ladies went back to their task for the evening. They’d just started on the handwritten notes, when April’s phone rang. Since the phone was on the table, everyone got a chance to see who was calling.
“Ooh! It’s Roman,” Snow said in a sing-along voice.
“Is he calling to check on his baby,?” Vina teased.
“Shut up, you two,” April ordered as she stood up with the phone in hand.
“Where are you going?” “Pick it up here?” “Are you afraid we’ll hear you telling him how much you love him?” Her friends’ amused voices followed her as she made her way to her bedroom.
She closed the door before answering the call. “Roman, hi.”
“April, I’m dying,” he moaned, his voice sounding low and hoarse.
An immediate frown creased her brow. “Is your cold worse?”
“Much worse,” he croaked. “I think I have a fever.”
“Poor baby,” April soothed. “Have you taken any medicine?”
“No. I thought that it would go away by itself.”
“Okay, I’ll get some for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Roman protested.
“I don’t mind.” If she didn’t take the medicine to him, she would spend the whole night worrying about him. She asked, “Where are you? Your parents’ place?”
Usually, Roman ate Sunday dinners with his family, but this time he said, “I begged off. I wanted to sleep so I came back to my place.”
“Okay, chill out. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” After ending the call, she went to the bathroom to wash off her mask and ditch her night-scarf. She came back to the bedroom to change into a white top and black leggings. Carrying a sports jacket, a pair of high-top, wedge sneakers and a clutch bag, she reentered the living room.
“Yah!” Vina exclaimed as she gave April a surprised head-to-toe once-over. “Why are you dressed up?”
“I need to get Roman some medicine,” April explained as she put on her jacket. “His cold got worse.”
“Are you kidding me?” Snow held up a bundle of cards. “We still have more than a hundred of these to write.”
“Leave my share on the table. I’ll finish them when I get back.”
“We’re guests,” Vina protested. “How can you just leave us like this?”
“Guests? Hah!” April snorted. “You spend more nights here than at your parents’ house.”
“But who pays the rent here?” Vina countered. “You pay the rent. Which makes me a guest who should be catered to.”
“This is not-” April’s breath hitched as she bent to lace her shoes. “a hotel.”
“Look at her. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” Snow clucked disapprovingly. “One call and she’s running off to him like he’s her man.”
“Mm hmm,” Vina agreed. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You guys, he’s sick,” April protested.
“And you were the only one he could call.” Snow rolled her eyes then waved. “Go. If you stay here, you’ll only worry anyway.”
“Bye, lady.” Vina added, “I’d tell you to make him put a ring on it, but that asshole will never do it.”
“Hey, that’s my future brother-in-law,” Snow protested.
“He can be your brother-in-law and an asshole,” Vina retorted. Before the conversation could turn into an argument or worse, turn into questions about why she liked Roman so much, April made her escape.
Immediately after leaving her apartment, she stopped at a pharmacy to buy cold medicine. After that she ducked into the supermarket to get some supplies for chicken soup then took a cab. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the high-rise that held Roman’s condo.
The doorman knew her well enough not to even ask for her identification. With a quick hello to him, she made her way to the elevators. When the elevator came to a stop on the fifth floor, she got off and headed to Roman’s condo.
She’d been here enough times to know his code by heart. A few seconds after she punched in the code and swiped her thumb over the lock’s screen, the door opened. She walked into the condo to find it steeped in darkness. If it wasn’t for the glowing light coming from the muted TV, she wouldn’t have seen the human-shaped bundle curled up on the couch completely covered in a blanket. Roman.
Careful not to wake him up, she kicked off her shoes then tiptoed into the kitchen. Despite Roman being Midas-rich, his kitchen had to be the loneliest kitchen this side of the Pacific ocean. It looked like it was hardly used and had the barest minimum in appliances; just a stove, a fridge and a blender. She’d asked him a time or two why his kitchen wasn’t better stocked. His response – he owned two restaurants and had the best chefs under his wing. Why should he waste money on cooking?
Furthermore, he claimed he wasn’t a fan of doubling up. Why buy a kettle when his stove could boil water? Why buy a microwave when he already had a stove with an oven? Why buy a juicer when he already had a blender? Why buy several spoons when he lived alone? He’d even chosen to live in a one-bedroom condo because he was just one man - what did he need extra rooms for?
But all those were excuses.
April had known him long enough to recognize that the real reason he did all that was because he hated spending money. The guy was one studio apartment away from being a Scrooge. His stinginess was the one thing she didn’t understand about him. What was the point of earning all that money if you weren’t going to spend it? If she had his wealth, she’d be living it up in some sunny island resort, complete with topless cabana boys to serve her every whim.
She quickly whipped up the chicken soup then set it on a tray along with his medicine and a glass of water. Roman was still asleep when she reentered the living room and set the tray on the coffee table. It was only when she switched on the lights that he stirred.
His head emerged from underneath the blanket, his midnight-black hair messy and his eyes still hooded from sleepiness. With a low groan, he searched the room for the source of the light. When he found her, he offered her a groggy smile. “You’re here.”
She smiled. “I’m here.”
Even while sick, Roman was sexy as sin. He was incredibly male with his grey eyes, beautifully shaped lips and strong jaw. Though he no longer played pro-baseball, he’d kept his pre-retirement body and was still long and athletically muscular. He wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever met, but for some reason he had all her attention. To her embarrassment and his amusement, she often found herself staring at him as if to imprint him on her memories.
“When did you-” He burst into a fit of coughs that had her crossing the room at the speed of lightning to check on him. Roman turned on his side so she could sit beside him. He asked, “When did you come in?”
“A few minutes ago.” Once she was seated beside him, she stretched her hand out to touch his forehead. She frowned when she found it warm. “How are you feeling?”
“Not so bad now that you’re here.”
But his flippant words weren’t enough to dispel her worry. “You’re burning up. Should we go to the hospital?”
“It’s just a light fever. No need for hospitals.” He set his hand over hers on his forehead, sending immediate electricity zinging through her with just that light touch. His grey eyes met hers. “I’m sorry I made you come all the way here.”
“You didn’t make me. I brought myself here.” She smiled as she pulled her hand from his grasp. “Sit up. The chicken soup is getting cold.”
With a groan, he sat up, pushed the blanket aside and swung his legs to the floor. Despite the warm temperature, he was wearing a hoodie to go along with his t-shirt, joggers and socks.
“Have this first,” she offered him an
assortment of pills. After he downed them with the water, she grabbed the bowl of chicken soup and held it out to him. “This will warm you up.”
He took the bowl but gave its contents an unimpressed stare. His upper lip lifted slightly as he asked, “Do I have to eat all of it?”
“All of it,” she insisted. “You can’t go to bed on empty stomach.”
He coughed then cleared his throat before saying, “I don’t feel like eating it.”
“You have to,” she insisted. When he still didn’t make any move to start eating, she took the bowl from his hands, dipped the spoon in then brought it to his mouth. “Open.”
He drew his head backwards. “I’m not a child.”
“Open.” She opened her mouth to demonstrate. “Aah!”
He looked like he wanted to complain but finally opened up for her. She fed him the first few spoonfuls then he took the bowl from her to continue on his own. While he ate, she went around the apartment, straightening and cleaning up. By the time she came back the bowl was empty and Roman was once again curled up underneath the blanket.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” She urged him to sit up again.
“Why?” he whined even as he followed her orders. “I’m comfortable here.”
“You’re comfortable for now.” Taking his hand, she stood. “But you’re too tall for this couch. I don’t want you calling me a few hours from now to say you have a backache.”
“Yes, Mother,” Roman teased as he rose to his full height. At five-nine, April was certifiably tall, but he was tall enough to dwarf her by a couple of inches even when she was wearing heels – another thing to love about him. In his presence she felt as dainty as precious glass and more womanly.
Hand-in-hand, they headed to his room. Roman’s bedroom was the epitome of masculine. Fabric in shades of deep green, gray and white blended perfectly with the dark wood furniture to form a peaceful yet still warm retreat. She’d already pulled back the covers and sheets for him so all he had to do was slip in before she tucked him in.
