Page 17 of Playing for Love

Gabe

Mia didn’t answer her phone and I didn’t bother leaving a message. Instead, stalking around my empty apartment, I decided to call back. I owed it to her, to watch out for her. I was being protective, not an asshole interfering in someone else’s business. Matchmaking was a responsibility. Tapping in her number a second time, she answered after four rings.

I stopped where I was, in front of my refrigerator.

“Gabe, what’s going on? What’s so urgent you had to call me tonight?” Her voice held that now familiar teasing note, making me forget where I was, what I was doing, why I called.

“Of course I had to call—I’m your matchmaker. I had to find out how your date went.”

“Not buying it.”

“You didn’t like Tate?” The only way I could play this was purposefully obtuse.

She laughed. “I like him fine. That what you needed to hear?”

Letting the sound of her laughter lighten me, I opened the refrigerator door and took out a protein drink, shaking it.

“You sure? Maybe Denise was right—maybe I shouldn’t have fixed you up with a football player.” Maybe I shouldn’t be fixing her up with anyone at all.

“I’m a big girl, Gabe. I don’t need someone holding my hand while I meet new people.”

“You’re sure? No residual feelings for Paul interfering?” Or feelings for me?

She let out an exasperated laugh and he slugged down half the protein drink. “In some circles I’m known to be highly competent,” she said.

“What circle would that be?”

“At work. I have an important job, you know.”

“I do. Anything involving blood and guts is highly important.” I had a smile on my face now as I walked to my living room and sat in my oversize chair, putting my feet up. If I didn’t go near my bedroom, there was no harm in talking, carrying on a friendly conversation.

She chuckled, low and sensual. “You’re incorrigible. You know that?”

“Tell me more about your job.” I was far from ready to let her off the hook.

“What’s to tell? Blood here, guts there.”

I laughed. “Life and death. High stress. Lots of emotions. Sounds like hell.”

A beat of silence passed before she spoke.

“Hell if you can’t handle it. Important work if you can. Like my father told me, if you have it in you to handle life and death, then you have to do it, because someone has to do it. Not everyone can and people count on us.”

I was stunned into a momentary silence as I took in her words and felt the unusual sensation of being insignificant, inconsequential as a big football star next to her emergency room miracle worker.

“Gabe?”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Just feeling a little humbled.”

A soft tinkling chuckle drifted to my ear, soothing my ego, making me want to be there with her.

“Honestly,” she said, her voice quiet. “It’s a big job being in charge of the emergency room, triage, the EMTs, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. To be a leader.”

My heart cracked to hear the pain of self-doubt in her voice.

“You’re ready, Mia. You’re calm, cool, serious. You’re a natural leader. You have that central core of rightness in you.” Wherever you go I would follow. I wanted to tell her that, be completely honest with her, but I couldn’t. I had no right.

Instead, I said, “What made you get into it?”