Still reeling from his conversation with his mother and his night at Willa’s, he began to think that he couldn’t take much more. Ironically, he began to see why his parents fought to keep all of this from him for so long. The constant controversy had strained his concentration and thrown him off his game. He knew he’d played well tonight, but the effort it had cost him was a price he’d never had to pay before. Between the loss of his father, the fight with his mother, and the effort to keep his mind off of Lu, he’d felt as though his nine years of markers were being collected.
He glanced over at her, caught up in the city racing by as he sped through the streets of London. Much like his decision on Sunday night, before he thought through what he was doing, he found himself pulling up to his apartment. Parking the car, he turned off the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition.
“Where are we?” Lu asked without turning toward him.
“My place. We need to talk.” He said it matter-of-factly, without any of the heat of their earlier interaction. He anticipated an argument, but Lu merely opened her door and stepped out of the car. He grabbed his stuff and led her through the underground parking garage to the elevator. With the haze of his anger dissipating, he took in her appearance. In black slacks, boots, and a pea coat, the only dash of color a scarf of his rivals’ wound around her neck, he tried not to think of her cheering against him tonight. Her hair was braided across the front and pulled to the side in a ponytail. He supposed it shouldn’t have, but it looked sophisticated on her. Her eyes trained on the flashing numbers as the elevator rose. As he watched her, flashes of their bodies entwined scrolled across his mind. Trying to block the memories, he trained his mind to think of his game, the goal he’d shot wide, the give and go he’d missed, the corner he should have connected. Thankfully, the elevator made no stops and he soon found himself opening his door and allowing her to precede him into his apartment.
He walked directly to his room, leaving her to her own devices. He unpacked his bag, taking his time, getting control of his anger, then made his way back to the kitchen. He grabbed a wineglass from the rack above the counter.
“Red or white?” he asked.
“Red, please,” Lu answered from where she sat on the couch. Walking over to the bar, he pulled a bottle out, opened it and poured. Walking back through the kitchen, Lex grabbed water from the refrigerator and headed over to where Lu sat with her legs curled under her. Handing her the glass of wine, he sat across from her in a chair.
“Do you not need something stronger?” Lu asked, without looking at him.
“I absolutely do. But I’ve already broken my no-alcohol-during-the-season rule once this week.”
“You had a different occasion that warranted alcohol more strongly than this one?” she asked, again looking down into her wine.
Smiling ruefully, Lex said, “Yes. Jo trumps you in needing alcohol to handle.”
Lu’s head popped up and she met Lex’s eyes for the first time since their yelling match in the car. “Well, that’s something, I guess.”
“This seems to be my week for cleaning up the messes in my life.”
“Should I be offended?” Lu asked, holding his gaze.
“That I consider this a mess I have to clean up?” Shaking his head, he continued. “Nah. Save it. I’m pretty sure there’s something that I will say that will be far more offensive than that.”
“Hmph.”
“Does that mean you need an example?” he asked, his temper feeling the stroke of her feigned indifference.
Lu looked away from him and took a sip of her wine. “What do you want to talk about, Lex?” she asked, throwing in the towel.
“What were you doing with Malcolm Helms?” It wasn’t the most pressing issue, but it was bothering him, so he figured he’d get the easy one out of the way.
Lu eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe that this was a point of contention. “He offered me a job.”
Lex nodded. “Makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your research is pretty convincing, Lu. I can see why he’d want you on his payroll.” He saw the surprise flash across her face. He almost laughed that he could still read her so well sometimes. But then he remembered all that he couldn’t read when they’d last been together and the desire to laugh vanished.
“What do you know about what I do?”
“Everything.”
“Why?”
“We have a child together, Lu. I made it my business to know what you’ve been doing with the super brain.” He saw her struggle to hold back the smile. “Look, sport psychology is a growing field. I know your angle is unique, but I also knew that it wouldn’t take long for someone to want to exploit what you have to offer. I’m glad it was Malcolm.”