by Alexis Anne
“Sad?” Carried asked.
Zoe looked at me again and I kept on ignoring her. “Mrs. Daniels made it very clear that being friends, or even acquaintances, with anyone with the last name St. James was an unforgiveable sin.”
“Last night was exhausting but tonight we’re celebrating,” I broke in. Sarah was returning with our bottle. “So let’s drop it and focus on Zoe.”
After Sarah poured us each a fizzing glass of champagne we toasted Zoe. “To the author of the year,” I said.
“Thank you.” She blushed up to her roots. “I appreciate it.”
Carrie downed her entire glass. “Are you insane? You have a seven-figure deal. You do understand how rare that is, especially these days, right?”
“And most authors never earn out an advance that huge. This could all blow up in my face.”
“Stop!” I shoved my hand in her face. “Just stop. You are brilliant and this new series is amazing. You’re already an established author all on your own. This was an inevitable reward for a gifted writer. If you don’t start accepting the fact that you deserve this I’m going to scream.”
Her eyes rounded. “Yes ma’am.”
Sarah appeared with a plate of steamed oysters. “Compliments of a gentleman named Roman.” She glanced around the table. “I’m starting to get the impression this table is full of very important women.”
“We are,” Carrie said, scooping up an oyster. “Super famous fantasy and romance author,” she pointed at Zoe, “baseball royalty,” she pointed at me, “brilliant surgeon,” she pointed at herself, cocked an eyebrow, and sucked down the oyster.
“Damn,” Sarah whistled. “Best table of the month for sure.”
Luckily my friends were preoccupied with entertaining the waitress, so I was able to silently freak out all on my own. Roman. Was he with clients or family? Did it matter? He knew I was here and he’d sent freaking oysters.
So much for ignoring him.
“Enjoy,” Sarah said, stepping back.
I grabbed her arm, pulling her down so I could whisper in her ear. “Can you tell Roman I said thank you?”
She nodded slowly. “Of course.”
I smiled tightly and released her arm. I didn’t mean to grab her like that but I didn’t seem to have full control over my body anytime Roman’s name came up in conversation. It was a side effect I didn’t enjoy in the least.
“Wow,” Carrie whistled. “You’re flushed, clumsy, and panicked. I’d say there’s a lot more to your time with a certain someone than you’re letting on.”
Zoe shot Carrie a look. “I don’t think this is the right time or place.” She glanced around the busy restaurant.
“Whatever. Rusty’s is a safe haven. She can talk.”
To my complete surprise Zoe started discretely pointing at tables. “Really? Because that looks like the Rays short stop over there. And isn’t that guy on the Yankees recruiting staff? Plus the reporter from the Times is two tables over.”
“Zoe! You’ve been studying!” For a minute I was too shocked to think about Roman.
“You dragged me to spring training and yes, I’ve been studying. It’s the only way to keep up with your family.”
“I’m so impressed,” I said. “And grateful because you’re right. I am not talking in this restaurant.”
“So don’t use names. We know who you’re talking about. All I want is the juicy details you’ve clearly left out.”
I knew I was screwed the moment Zoe grinned in agreement.
“Fine. I will fill in some of the blanks, but you’re buying dinner.” If I was going to give up details, then she better pay. Plus, if I was being totally honest, I needed to talk. Having so much bottled up with nowhere to let it out was slowly driving me crazy.
Carrie picked up the champagne and refilled our glasses. “That’s the easiest deal I’ve ever made.”
I waited until we’d finished the champagne and switched to cocktails before I said anything else. Mostly because I was trying to figure out what to say. “If you forget about the family history and things you do when you’re young and stupid, it was a magical, special thing that we had.” I was hurt by how things had ended but I would never deny that our time together was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before or since. It deserved that honesty . . . even if it hurt to admit.
Carrie and Zoe both leaned in.
“I knew from the minute we met that I was attracted to him and that he was attracted to me, but we didn’t jump into anything.”
Zoe bounced her eyebrows. “You resisted.”
“Maybe.” That was certainly a possibility. But really? I think we both knew exactly what we had, how special it was, and we didn’t want to mess things up by rushing in too fast. “It was overwhelming. Every time I was near him I felt like someone had just put me into a blender. When something mixes you up like that . . . it’s hard to separate what you’re feeling from what you need.”
“Fuck that,” Carrie scoffed, “you jump straight into bed with that.”
“Not this.” I hoped she could understand one day. “I wanted get to know him. I wanted to be sure it was more than . . . well, more than lust.”
Carrie looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but Zoe was smiling. “And it was, wasn’t it?”
I nodded slowly. “So much more. The more I got to know him the more I liked him. It was easy . . . talking to him. And things slipped out. It was the same for him. We became friends.”
“And then?” Carrie really wanted the sexy details.
“And then he asked for my help. It,” I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know. It disarmed me. He was so lost and clueless and he came to me for help.”
“What did he need help with?” Zoe practically pulled out a notepad and a pen to take notes.
“That isn’t something I’m willing to discuss today.” Or ever.
Her eyes grew wide. “Because it’s personal? Or because it’s scandalous?”
“Both?” I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever tell anyone what happened in the locker room that night. It was the kind of story that belonged to us and no one else. “But, as Carrie so desperately wants to know, one thing led to the other after that, and before I really knew what I was doing, we were . . . together.”
“Yeah you were.” Carrie motioned for me to continue.
“Even when it was bad, it was good, because it was always more than just ‘doing it’, if that makes sense. It was always an experience.” I realized I was grinning, but the memories of being naked, late nights, and fast food runs . . . those memories were some of my favorites.
We all fell silent and it was perfect timing because our food was delivered in the middle of the gaping hole my story had just left in the void.
Zoe adjusted her plate and pierced a scallop. “Okay, just one more thing. If one thing led to another now, would you take a chance?”
Marie’s words haunted me all night and I couldn’t stop myself from having a very brief and painful fantasy about a future with Roman. I think he loves you.
Love.
That was a very different thing than lust. Lust was physical. It was also temporary.
But love? That was more. That . . . well, it was something worth fighting for.
“If there were no family obligations and bad memories, then yes.” But there were mothers and sisters to consider so it really didn’t matter what I fantasized about.
“Really?” Carrie’s head snapped up and her eyes darted over my shoulder. “Tell me more.”
I realized something was wrong the minute Zoe shook her head and hissed. “Stop.”
That’s when I felt him. That warmth that always hung in the air when he was near. That sizzle. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
Carrie nodded.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
I didn’t turn. I sat there frozen, watching as Carrie’s expression turned downright predatory. She grinned and her eyes unfocused the way they usually did when she was
on the hunt. “I’m Dr. Carrie Ann Walker.” She stood up and held out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
After a beat he cleared his throat. “And you.” I felt him turn toward Zoe, who scrambled to stand as well, “Roman,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.
“Zoe. I’m June’s roommate.”
Which meant it was my turn. I closed my eyes and steeled myself for the tsunami I was going to feel the moment I looked at him. I pushed back my chair and turned around. “Hello, Roman.”
Damn . . . It was different than the locker room with Wes. That night had been a shock. I’d been too confused and hurt to feel much more than surprise. But now? Now I’d had plenty of time to remember the bad and the good. So when he cast his warm, appreciative gaze my way I didn’t feel the need to bolt for the nearest door to save myself.
Instead I wanted his attention. I could appreciate the spark.
“June,” he said quietly. He was dressed more casually than the last time I’d seen him. Dark jeans and black t-shirts looked insanely good on him. “I hope you enjoyed the oysters. When Rusty told me you were here I wanted to send a white flag. I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“No trouble here. We’ve always managed to keep the peace,” I said, hoping my voice sounded breathy but not broken. I felt broken standing so close to him again.
“We have,” he agreed, then smiled at my friends. “It’s so nice to meet you both. Please enjoy your dinner.”
They mumbled their thanks and sat, which is when I realized the entire restaurant was silent and every pair of eyes was staring at us. Crap on a cracker. Did the drama never end?
“It seems even when we’re being perfectly cordial we manage to put on a show.” He smiled but it was tight and controlled—a sign I knew well. Roman was horrifically uncomfortable. “I only wanted to say hello. Nothing more.”
“I know.” Because I did. The last thing he’d ever want was to draw more attention to the feud. Relief washed over him and I realized he was genuinely worried about my impression.
“I don’t know what to do right now,” he murmured, leaning in.
That made two of us. “I think we shake hands.”
He searched my eyes and this time I let him. It gave me a chance to study him, too. He was hopeful—that much was obvious—but not aggressive. He wasn’t here to push a point like had in the locker room. If anything, I’d say he was tentative. As if he hadn’t been able to stay away after learning I was so near. It was in the way he leaned toward me instead of standing tall, the soft way his eyes held mine, it was as if he were a heartbeat away from pulling me into his chest so he could hold me.
He made the subtlest of shrugs. “I suppose a handshake will have to do.” He held out his hand and I took it, but it wasn’t just a simple shake. Oh no, this was so much more. His thumb curled up and around mine with a gentle but insistent caress. It was a hug in a situation where we could never be that close. His long fingers held mine captive for a moment longer than he should—just long enough for that electric connection we always ignited to spark and send a rush of tingles along my skin.
“Until next time.”
“Until next time,” he murmured.
As I sat back down at the table, he pushed in my chair. His fingers grazed my arms and the back of my shoulders. Then he leaned down for only a second and whispered, “Thank you,” against my ear so only I could hear it.
And then he was gone.
Eventually chatter began to fill the room again. I picked up my fork and tried to eat but I couldn’t. My mind and my heart had left with Roman. I was empty and confused.
“Wow,” Carrie eventually whispered.
I saw Zoe kick her under the table. “Not here!”
I knew everyone was still watching me. Waiting for some outburst, I was sure.
But Carrie ignored Zoe. She leaned toward me and murmured, “I thought you had it bad . . . but that man has it a hundred times worse.” Then she swallowed and for the first time I saw a glimmer of longing in her expression. “If a man ever looked at me that way, I’d actually think twice about my views on monogamy.”
9
“T hat’s gorgeous!” I gushed as Natalie spun in front of me, her light hair dancing as she moved. We were dress shopping for an awards ceremony she was attending next month.
“This is it. I swear this dress was made just for me.” Her hands carefully ran over her hips where the dark purple dress gently hugged her figure before falling into waves of organza fabric.
“I agree. It would look very different on me.” I snapped a picture so she could see it from a different angle and handed her my phone. “You won’t have to say anything on stage. Just stand there and let everyone enjoy the perfection of this dress.”
She laughed and handed back my phone. “I don’t think scientists are nearly as enamored with dresses as the rest of the world.”
“Maybe. But I’ll bet money you’ll have several attentive companions that night.”
She rolled her eyes and closed the dressing room door. “How’s work?”
“Normal.” I sighed loudly before I could stop it.
Natalie heard. “So if I were to translate that it would sound a lot more like ‘boring’, right?”
I sighed again. “Pretty much.” I’d always had a wandering soul—something that had instantly bonded me to Natalie years earlier when her mother, Marie, became part of our tribe. “I’m restless.”
“Start planning your off-season. It will help knowing you have a plan and a destination.”
“That’s the problem, actually. I have been planning and I’m still about to come out of my skin.” I started pacing back and forth across the dressing room. “I’m meditating and doing yoga. I have a goal board.”
The door flew open and Natalie stepped out in her regular clothes looking a little flushed and worried. “You need to calm down.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me along behind her as she moved toward the checkout with her new gown thrown over her other arm. “You’re obsessing over this. Why?”
And that was the thing I couldn’t figure out. I shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably as I silently watched Natalie pay for the dress. My life was good. I had an amazing job and worked with an incredible group of people. Athletes were always fun to work with and in the off-season I got some freedom to travel.
So why was I so anxious about escaping this life?
There was only one answer. And that answer did not make me happy. “There’s a guy,” I confessed. It was strangely easier to talk to Natalie who, despite being six years younger than me, was somehow removed from the situation. She wasn’t part of this stupid feud, she didn’t know Roman, and she didn’t know anything about our past.
She turned from the register with an evil grin on her face. “A guy?”
I nodded. “It’s complicated and now that you have me thinking about it . . . ”
“You’d rather run away than face whatever it is you’re feeling. Classic.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Classic?”
“Guys are super complicated. They’re so out of touch with their feelings that they don’t know why they do half of the things they do. Living with my father and Greg over the years has taught me just how blissfully ignorant most men can be.”
Natalie’s parents had never married. Her father lived in France and she lived with him through her high school years when she attended an exclusive school in Paris. Greg, on the other hand, was the most outrageous, blunt, loving man I’d ever met. He was bigger than life. And I could only imagine, interesting to live with.
“Guys are difficult to understand but I’m not sure how that makes this a ‘classic’ situation.”
We pushed out of the store and into the bright Florida afternoon sun. I flipped my sunglasses down from the top of my head two seconds too late and had to blink several times to clear the blur in my vision from the overexposure.
“I suppose ‘classic’ is a bit of a reach considering I’m
only comparing you to my parents and my friends but . . . ” her voice trailed off as she carefully placed the gown across the open trunk of my car and slammed it shut.
“But?” I prompted, that anxious feeling of needing to flee creeping back into my veins.
“There seems to be a pattern.” She leaned her hip against the car. “If there’s a lot of attraction it gets overwhelming. Feelings and needs and all.” She waved her hands in front of her body. “And that alone can be hard to live with sanely, but then you add in a guy who doesn’t know what he wants or feels when really, it shouldn’t be that hard to figure out, and instead of sitting around and waiting for the ignorant dudes to get a clue, most of the women in my life want to run the opposite direction.”
Natalie was wise beyond her years even if she wasn’t totally right. “He’s not the one who’s out of touch with what he wants.” I knew my cheeks had turned bright red thanks to the burning sensations sweeping across my skin, so I opened the car door and slid behind the steering wheel.
Two seconds later Natalie flew into the passenger side with a glare. “Put this car in reverse and I’ll scream,” she warned.
I removed my hand from the gearshift knowing full well Natalie didn’t make idle threats. “What?”
“So this guy is all in?”
I shrugged. “It’s more complicated than that.” Way, way more complicated.
“Okay . . . so he’s ready but you’re not?”
I shrugged again. “It’s complicated.”
“You keep saying that. You know what we do in research, right?”
I sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to like how simple she made this. I kind of liked it complicated. It was a comforting blanket I got to hide under instead of dealing with my feelings.
