Crush (Crash #3)(10)

I checked the time on the new iPhone Jude had sent me last week, the first of what he said would be many sweet gifts. After warning him he'd better not start treating me like some expensive mistress he had stuffed across the country, I'd thanked him profusely and given him a few dozen air kisses through my sweet new phone.

"Crap!" I shrieked when my hand accidentally grazed the casserole dish holding the green beans that had just been baking at three hundred and fifty degrees for more than an hour. I was about to run the burn under water when the time registered in my brain.

"Double crap!" Jude was going to be here any minute and I wasn't ready. Tonight I wanted everything to be perfect. Normally I would have picked him up at the airport, but then I couldn't have surprised him with what I'd been cooking up the past few days.

He'd sounded hurt when I'd first told him he'd have to catch a cab because I was planning something. But when I repeated I was planning something, with just the right amount of inflection, I could feel his classic smile coming through the phone.

Blanketing my hands with oven mitts, I rushed the beans to our dining table. It was nothing more than a six-foot-long plastic craft table surrounded by a menagerie of mismatched chairs, but when you covered it with a nice tablecloth, it classed it up a rung so we looked less like poor college students and more like fresh graduates with their first paying jobs.

Dropping the dish on the table, I heard footsteps striding up the stairwell. Thundering footsteps. The walls were that thin and Jude's footsteps were that loud.

Loosening the knot of my bathrobe, I let it slide off my arms and chucked it onto the couch. After double-checking that the candles were lit, the table set, and the music playing at just the right volume in the background, I plopped down into my chair. The chair was chilly, running cool from my spine down to my backside. A metal folding chair probably wasn't the best seating option for a girl who was naked.



       
         
       
        

Well, naked except for the suede turquoise pumps that I'd chosen to match the tie I had loosely tied around my neck. A tie that had SAN DIEGO written above a yellow lightning bolt only a few dozen times.

Lounging back in the chair, I kicked my feet up on the table, crossing my ankles as I twirled the tie between my fingers. It was a very Pretty Woman moment. In fact, that movie, which had been replaying every night on TV, had been my inspiration.

The steps were getting louder, only a few strides from our door. I sucked in a breath, trying to calm myself, as I was now reaching heights of epic overanticipation. Other than the time we'd split back in high school, this was the longest we'd gone without seeing each other. It should have been considered a form of torture to be separated from a guy like Jude Ryder for two weeks.

Bamboo shoots up fingernails was child's play in comparison to what I'd experienced.

Giving my hair a tease, I watched the door without blinking, waiting for the footsteps to pause at the front door . . . then, as they continued on down the hall, waiting for them to turn around and come back.

I waited a minute, long after the footsteps had disappeared into an apartment. Okay, false alarm. But he'd be here soon. Maybe he'd been held up at the airport, or maybe traffic was nasty tonight. Or maybe . . .

Nope, I wasn't going to let myself go there. He was coming. He'd be here. Nothing could stop Jude from what he wanted, least of all the NFL.

And that was when my phone chimed, causing me to jump. I still wasn't used to the ring of my new phone. Fumbling to grab it, I smiled when Jude's picture popped up.

"Where are you?" I said as soon as I picked up. "I've got one hell of a surprise waiting for you."

He was silent for a couple seconds, and then he sighed.

My heart sank. "You're not coming. Are you?" I tried to keep from sounding as disappointed as I felt.

Another sigh. "I'm so sorry, Luce. Coach decided to dish out a mandatory extra training session for the rookies late this afternoon, and he's called an early morning session tomorrow, too." His voice was labored, like he'd been sprinting, plus there was a ruckus in the background. "I tried texting you in between practices to let you know, but it looks like it didn't go through."

Nope. Definitely didn't.

"Where are you?" I asked, uncrossing my ankles and putting my feet on the floor. No sense in keeping a pose if he wasn't showing up to enjoy the view.

"In the locker room. I called you the second I got in here after finishing up practice for the day," he said, trying to talk over the voices of fifty of his teammates. "Can you hear me all right?"