Strike to the Heart(11)
“I know, right? Nothing like folding over a melting slice and biting right in.”
Zane’s statement brought to mind all the places I wanted him to bite me. My face heated.
Zane smiled. “I would love to know what you’re thinking right now.”
I glanced away. “I’ll tell you later,” I responded coyly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t at the match. It would have been great to see you and Darcy play.”
Just the subject I wanted to avoid. “It’s cool. You have commitments. I hardly expect you to drop everything. It’s not like we—”
“It’s not like we what?” Zane’s water bottle thunked on the table.
“This is a casual thing, right? So, I have no expectations of you changing your plans or anything.” Expectations led to disappointment.
Zane frowned. “Why not?”
I sat back in the booth. “Why not? Because you’re busy. You have stuff.”
“The US Open is one of the most important tournaments you’ll play all year.”
What the hell? Why wasn’t he agreeing with me? “I don’t expect you to do anything different.”
“Maybe you should.” Zane scratched his jaw, his fingers rasping against his early five o’clock shadow.
I shrugged. “We’re not really involved.”
Zane’s eyes narrowed. “It feels like we’re involved.”
This conversation made me twitchy. “Zane, knock it off. Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”
He hesitated and then simply said, “I think our pie’s up.” He scooted out of the booth and made his way back to the counter.
What was his deal? If he wanted me to admit this was more than a fling, I wasn’t going to do it. It was a fling. It was staying a fling.
~ * ~ * ~
Jo
Zane took my duffel from my hand and matched his stride to mine. I don’t know how we’d fallen into this routine. He’d meet me after my match. We’d go back to the hotel together, rest, relax, and have hot sex. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. I could get used to this, even though I didn’t want to.
Zane nuzzled my neck. “What’s on your mind?”
It was disconcerting how he could tell. “The match was tougher than I thought it might be.”
“She played above her game. Merkel’s good, but she hasn’t had time to develop your power.”
I don’t know why I was surprised by Zane’s observation, but I was. For someone who said he didn’t know much about tennis, he’d picked up a lot. He was spot on. My opponent had probably played the match of her life today, but she’d just turned sixteen. In a couple of years, she’d be an opponent to be reckoned with.
My cell phone rang. “It’s my mother.” I had a special ringtone for her.
“Are you going to answer it?” Zane asked.
“I know what she wants. She’s going to remind me about her party.”
“Her party?”
“My mother always gets friends and relatives together while I’m in town. I’m kind of obliged to stop by.” I needed to put in an appearance, but I had a choice. I could go alone and field nosy questions about my love life or I could bring Zane and field nosy questions about my love life. It simply depended on what type of prying I was in the mood for.
“When is this thing?”
“Uh, tomorrow.” I hadn’t wanted to think about it. I’d been floating in the moment for days, and I didn’t want that to change.
“So is the problem that you want me to come or that you don’t?”
Ouch. Leave it to a fighter not to pull his punches. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have brought it up.” It would be like telling someone all about your birthday party—that they weren’t invited to. Rude.
“I can make it.”
“Be sure to wear a thick skin.”
Zane smiled. “I always do.”
Chapter 7
Zane
The cab pulled to the curb on Central Park West in front of a hunter green awning. A man in a formal coat and hat hurried to the door of the car and opened it. Jo stepped out onto the curb and I slid out after giving the driver some cash. If this was how the doorman dressed¸ I was afraid to see what I might find inside.
A second man opened the door to the building and Jo breezed in. I followed her, surprised by my slight feeling of trepidation. I wanted to make a good impression. Jo waved to the desk attendant and he responded, “Nice to see you again, Miss Parker-Barrow.”
I’d been in a few fancy buildings in my time, but this was unreal. The thick carpet of the lobby traveled from the door to the elevator. The exposed floor looked like marble. There was a seating area. The fancy, uncomfortable-looking furniture was probably antique.