12. Sabrina

CHAPTER 12

SAbrINA

Noah makes it to the quarterfinal of the Australian Open, and when we return to the States for the upcoming Delray Beach Open, his disappointment is palpable.

Sighing, Maddie rests her chin on one hand and gazes out the large window in the kitchen that overlooks the gigantic pool and the full-blown tennis court in the backyard. Noah’s been at it with Fisher for hours now. I don’t know how he has the energy to keep going.

“Hey.” I tap my pencil against her paper. “I need you to focus.”

She turns back to me, braid whipping so fast it smacks her in the face. “Sorry.” She gives me a bashful smile, though it falls the moment she zeroes in on the page in front of her.

I set my pencil down. “Is everything okay?”

She shrugs, sucking her cheeks in, but doesn’t look up. “I guess.”

Hand splayed on the worksheet, I slide it away from her, and when she finally locks eyes with me, I give her a small smile. “Let’s talk, okay?”

Her nod is subtle. “Okay.”

“Something’s bothering you. Want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help.”

She looks out the window again. Noah’s far enough away that I can’t make out details, but I can see him darting back and forth on the court, dressed from head to toe in black.

“He’s working too hard.” Her eyes well, the hazel color more gold than green or brown because of the unshed tears. “He’s going to get hurt.”

My heart aches for this girl. “He’s a professional athlete. I’m sure he knows his limits.”

She shrugs her slender shoulders, still focused on him. “He wants to win.”

“Hey.” I stroke her cheek gently, pulling her attention away from the windows. “He’ll be okay. Your dad isn’t going anywhere.”

“I got used to having him around all the time.” She sniffles and leans over on her stool, dropping her head to my shoulder. “I’m glad I have you, though.”

I wrap her up and drop a kiss to the top of her head. This little girl knows how to tug at every one of my heartstrings.

“I’m sure he’s doing everything he can to take care of himself.”

She lets go of me and absentmindedly plays with the end of her braid. “I hope so. He seems tired.”

Thinking maybe she needs a distraction, I slide the paper back in front of her. “This is the last of schoolwork for the day. When you’re finished, we can go get ice cream.”

Eyes going wide, she perks up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Frankly, I need the ice cream just as badly as she does. My period started yesterday, and my desire for something sweet is all-consuming.

Thirty minutes later, I’m organizing her school supplies while she hustles upstairs to change into something “cuter.” Her words, not mine.

I’ve just stacked all her work in a neat pile when Noah appears, sweaty and exhausted and slightly aggravated. Fisher trails behind him, rambling on and using words that make no sense to my tennis-incompetent brain.

Noah grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and takes careful sips.

“I know,” he snaps at Fisher. “I’m working on it.” He turns then and gives me a once-over. “Where’s Maddie?”

“Changing. We’re going out for ice cream.”

A single dark brow rises up his forehead. “Ice cream?”

“Yeah”—I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans—“she’s having a rough day, so I said I’d take her after she finished her work.”

He cocks his head to the side, his lips turning down. “Why’s she having a bad day?”

Fuck. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Yes, Noah is my boss and her father, but I don’t want to betray her trust.

I slide onto my stool again. “That’s something you’d have to talk to her about.”

His eyes narrow, probably because he wants to argue with me. Before he can, though, Fisher launches back into a lecture involving a bunch of tennis-related terminology.

Noah stalks off, heading toward the stairs to get away from him. Before he disappears completely, though, he calls out, “I’ll go with you guys.”

“Huh?” I hop to my feet again.

He turns on his heel and pins me with a look. “I’ll go with you. For ice cream.”

“Oh. Okay.” I figured he was too busy to bother. Otherwise I would have invited him.

“I have to shower first.” With that, he’s gone.

Fisher grumbles an obscenity under his breath, head shaking, then turns to me. “See you later, Sabrina.”

Shortly after he leaves, Maddie bounds down the steps. “I’m ready!”

She hurries into the kitchen, practically skipping, dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater. She took her hair out of its braid so it hangs in waves and?—

“Did you put makeup on?”

The girl is only eight. That seems young to be wearing makeup.

Blushing, she bites her bottom lip. Her front left tooth is loose, but not quite ready to come out. “Don’t tell my dad.”

I rest my cheek on my fist and lean forward. “Bad news, girlfriend—he’s coming with us.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “What? Why did you invite him?” Her bottom lip trembles.

“He invited himself.”

“Ugh.” She throws her hands up, pure sass.

“Where did you get the makeup?”

“It was my mom’s.” Eyes downcast, she adds, “She taught me how to do my makeup before she died. Did I do a good job?”

Talk about a punch in the gut.

“You did a great job.”

She snaps up straighter, beaming with pride.

“But you still have to take it off.”

I might not be a genius, but I know Noah won’t let her leave the house with makeup on.

With a huff, she stomps out of the kitchen and back upstairs. Five minutes later, she’s back, her face freshly scrubbed free of mascara and glitter eye shadow.

“What was the makeup for?”

She opens the fridge, her back to me. “Nothing.”

Nothing—in that kid tone that very much conveys something is going on.

If she doesn’t want to tell me, though, I won’t push it.

She grabs a strawberry Jell-O cup and closes the refrigerator.

“Jell-O before ice cream?”

With a sigh, she puts it back in the fridge. “You’re right. That would be gross. Is my dad ready?”

“He’s probably still in the shower.”

“Ugh,” she groans, shoulders falling. “Can’t we just go?”

I tap my nails on the counter. “No, he said he’s coming with us, so that means we wait.”

“But he’s so slow,” she whines.

“Find some patience.” I ruffle her hair. “The ice cream will still be there.”

“I guess.” She runs her fingers through her hair, then spins on a sneaker-covered foot. “I’m going to watch TV.”

I can’t help but giggle as she disappears. The way she leaves the kitchen reminds me of Noah trying to get away from Fisher.

My phone buzzes on the table, momentarily distracting me.

Lucy: Are you okay with tacos for dinner?

I want to tell her that since she and Alyssa insist I stay with them until we leave for Delray Beach, I’ll eat whatever she wants me to.

But that’ll only piss her off.

Me: Sounds good.

Lucy: Cool. See you later.

Since we returned, I’ve been soaking up all the time with my best friend I can. Many of these tournaments are back to back, meaning we won’t be coming home between them. Apparently, Noah has a place in Monte Carlo as well, and he uses it as his home base when he’s playing in Europe. If all goes well for him, I won’t be back to see Lucy and Alyssa for a while. After the Delray tournament, we’re headed to the Miami Open, and after that is the Monte Carlo Masters. At least we won’t be stuck in a hotel while we’re there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what his house in Monaco looks like.

At the sound of a door opening upstairs, I stand and pocket my phone.

Before I can call for Maddie, she’s rounding the corner, looking up the stairs at her dad as he descends.

“Let’s go,” she says as she darts for the garage. “I want my ice cream.”

I frown at the sassy, almost snarky tone. It’s not normal for her. For a kid who was so worried about her dad an hour ago, she really doesn’t want him coming with us.

“What’s that about?” Noah’s nose crinkles in confusion, and I hate that I find it cute.

You can’t think anything your boss does is cute. Get it together .

One shoulder lifted, I grimace. “I’m not sure.”

I’m not about to tell him that this behavior started when I told her he was coming. Frankly, I’m confused as hell. So far Maddie seems to love spending time with her dad.

With a shake of his head, he swipes his keys from the table by the garage door. “Girls.”

“Men,” I mutter behind him.

He turns around, eyes narrowed.

“What?” I blink innocently.

Sighing, he opens the door and ushers me out, where Maddie is already waiting in the back seat of the car.

I open the back door on the opposite side, but Noah reaches out and closes it again.

“What was that for?” I snap, irritation flooding me.

“Sit up front.”

Hands propped on my hips, I frown. “Why?”

“Because you’re an adult and this isn’t a fucking Uber.”

Without another word, he stalks around to the driver’s side.

A part of me wants to slide in the back just to spite him, but I don’t trust that he wouldn’t drag me out and buckle me in the front himself.

The car smells brand new when I slide inside. For all I know, it is. He’s got more than enough money to buy a new one the second the smell fades.

As he backs out of the driveway, he glances back at Maddie in the rearview mirror and shakes his head at whatever he sees.

The drive to the ice cream shop is quiet except for the low hum of the country song on the radio.

Noah Baker listens to country music.

Didn’t expect that one.

He strikes me as more of a heavy rock or metal kind of guy.

The minute the car is in park in front of the adorable shop with a pink and yellow awning out front, Maddie hops out, seeming a bit happier now that we’re here.

Noah strides ahead of us and holds the door open.

The place smells like sugar—so much so that I half expect it to send me into a coma.

Chin lifted, Maddie peers around, scanning every inch of the place. When a boy who looks about sixteen or seventeen comes out to help us, her cheeks flush.

Ah. The makeup makes sense now. So does her annoyance when she discovered her dad was tagging along.

She has a crush on the ice cream boy.

I can’t help but smile as I watch her. We girls are the same. It doesn’t matter that he’s twice her age and completely unaware of her existence. She’s just a little girl crushing on the cute older boy. It’s a rite of passage.

While we eat our ice cream at one of the little bistro tables, she darts surreptitious looks at the teen. When he heads into the back, her shoulders fall in defeat.

“Did you learn anything new today?” Noah asks, garnering her attention.

“No.”

“ Maddie .” I laugh. “You little liar.”

Noah shakes his head, his brown eyes glimmering with amusement.

She takes a gigantic bite of her cake batter ice cream with sprinkles and immediately smacks a hand to her forehead. “Ugh. Brain freeze.”

Spoon pointed at her, Noah says, “That’s what you get for shoving so much in your mouth at once.”

“But it’s so good. How can I not?”

“She has a point.” I take a bite of my waffle cone, though mine is much more moderate. “This is pretty good ice cream.”

“Doesn’t count as ice cream if it’s plain old vanilla,” he counters, arching a dark brow.

“Vanilla is a popular flavor, you psycho.”

He gives his own ice cream a long lick. “Chocolate mudslide is better.”

“Offering me yours?”

Eyes lowering to my mouth, he holds his cone out. “Wanna lick?”

I shouldn’t do it. I know I shouldn’t. But I lean forward and lick the creamy goodness slowly, just like he did.

Are we flirting?

Shit, I think we are.

Heart racing, I lean back. “It’s pretty good,” I say, forcing my tone to remain even. “Want to try mine?”

Clearing his throat, he shifts closer to Maddie—and farther from me. “No, I’m okay.”

Maddie, oblivious to the tension building between us, is focused on the guy who’s returned and is wiping the counter down.

We fall into an awkward silence then, Noah and I avoiding eye contact at all costs.

With every bite of ice cream, I berate myself. Why did you do that? You’re such an idiot, Sabrina!

When we get back to the house, it’s time for me to head home, so I hug Maddie and mutter a farewell to Noah.

I’m buckled into my beloved Toyota, ready to make my escape, when he appears at my window.

“What?” I lower the window, wishing I could pretend I didn’t notice him and take off.

He taps the roof of my car. “This thing is going to fall apart.”

“It’s all I’ve got.” I shrug with a little more attitude than is strictly necessary, willing my cheeks not to heat with embarrassment. “We can’t all afford Range Rovers.”

He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “You need something safer.”

“Then you buy it,” I quip. “It’s four. I’m off, so if you’d let me go…”

He steps back, hands held up in defense, but doesn’t say a word.

Teeth gritted, I take off and I don’t look back.

“Sabrina,” I say to myself as I speed toward Lucy and Alyssa’s, “you absolute fool.”

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