What if making him jealous was the one thing to snap him out of his self-imposed no-go zone?
"So you think I should flirt with one of those dead-heads?" I pointed at the bar and Dani's eyes lit up.
"Abso-frikking-lutely." She rubbed her hands together. "Now, let's see. Who'd be best to make the Aussie green?"
I scanned the guys, not feeling the remotest buzz despite a few of them being really cute. They all had great bodies; that was a given considering how hard they worked out at the academy. And some of them had nice smiles. But none came close to giving me the electrifying zap I felt when I looked at Kye.
"How about him?" Dani pointed to the tall guy at the end of the bar nearest Kye. "Cute ass in denim. Broad pecs. Well defined biceps. Prominent bulge—"
"Okay, he'll do," I said, cutting off what could be one of Dani's detailed fantasized accounts of how the proportion of the bulge equaled screaming orgasms. "Wish me luck."
I stood, grateful when the waiter deposited another round of drinks at our table at that moment, providing me with an extra dose of liquid courage. I downed my beer as fast as I could gulp, savoring the head rush and hoping it would last.
"Go get him, girlfriend," Dani said, grinning as I slipped off my watch and slid it into my bag before making a beeline for the bar.
As if sensing my approach, Kye's shoulders stiffened and he didn't turn around.
I'd soon remedy that.
Insinuating my way between Tall Guy and a baby-faced guy I recognized as Kye's practice partner, I subtly bumped arms with my intended. "Excuse me. Do you have the time?"
Tall Guy stopped talking with Baby Face and glanced at me, initial irritation giving way to interest when he saw me. "Sure, Mia, but only if you agree to have a drink with me."
"Deal." I nodded, flashing what I hoped was my best flirtatious smile as I heard a subdued growl from Kye over Tall Guy's shoulder.
Good. I'd captured his attention. Time to ramp it up. "By the way, I don't know your name?"
I laid a hand on Tall Guy's arm and resisted batting my eyelashes, just.
"Pete." His grin was too predatory for my liking and I removed my hand. "Though I would've hoped you wouldn't have to ask, what with my heading the leader board of the in-house tournaments."
Ugh. He had an ego to match his height.
"I don't get to all the games, but I'll be sure to try and make more of yours," I said, laying it on thick.
"I'll look out for you." The way his stare roved my body, I just bet he would. "What would you like to drink?"
There was a difference between alcohol-fuelled courage and fuzzy brain syndrome that might make me do something stupid, so I settled for a safe option.
"Lime and soda, please." I added a fake giggle to convince Pete I needed a soda and not more alcohol.
His eyebrows rose. "Hey, we're the ones forced to abstain." He leaned in close, too close, and my skin prickled with distaste. "Why don't you indulge? Go wild?"
I would. With Kye. Who had turned at the sound of my stupid fake laugh and was now staring at me with concern.
I should've been happy I'd captured his attention, but all I felt was anger. A deep-seated fury that he'd left me no choice but to resort to childish games to get his attention, when all I wanted was to have some one-on-one time with him, chatting and laughing and having fun, like we did in LA.
"What the hell, make it a vodka, lime and soda." With Kye looking on, I gazed up at Pete adoringly, while pressing my arm against his. "I'm all for going wild."
I was over the top with the flirting, but seeing Kye watching me with disapproval pushed all my buttons.
I wanted to rile him, to make him do something.
What I didn't want was him walking out.
But that's exactly what he did.
Chapter 18
KYE
When the blackness descended, I had to escape.
In the past, when I'd felt it creep up on me, I'd do whatever it took to work it off. Which usually meant holding it in until I reached the courts. That was the great thing about smacking around a tennis ball. It couldn't smack you back.
I'd learned that lesson in fourth grade. And fifth. And sixth. Black eyes and cracked cheekbones and broken noses weren't so good when I was on the receiving end. So I'd wised up. Picked up a tennis racket. And never looked back.
But how I was feeling right now, I couldn't risk heading to the courts in case someone saw me or worse, approached me. I needed to be alone. Some place I could work it off without letting loose on anyone.
The pool.
Tucked away in the back corner of the property, it would be the perfect place to blow off steam in seclusion. It took me five minutes to reach it, another minute to pick the lock and let myself in, and thirty seconds to strip down to my boxers and dive in.