Chapter 10 #2
He had been different since he arrived, still a little wild, a little reckless, but his focus was on his game, on getting back to the top, that much was clear in how he trained. Back in Australia, he’d been like a tornado, taking out everything in his path. Even her.
“Like I said, you don’t really know me.”
Penny laughed softly. “Sure I do. The youngest man to ever win Wimbledon, the first English man to do it since 1936, youngest man to ever win the career Grand Slam…”
“All that’s missing is the Olympic gold,” Alex filled in for her.
“Well, the Olympics are only two years away.”
“Yeah, in Los Angeles. Great city. They know how to party.”
“Is that really all you think about?”
“No,” he said, “I think about you a lot.”
“Alex,” she warned, but it didn’t stop him.
“First time I saw you, it was in Australia.”
“Yeah, and look how that turned out.”
“Not this year. Two years ago, your first time down under, I think.”
“Oh.”
“I thought you were the most incredible-looking girl I’d ever clapped eyes on, and Christ, you could play, too. You reminded me so much of me, of who I used to be, focused, driven, not letting anything or anyone stand in my way.”
“You can still be like that. You’ve been like that since you got here, mostly,” she said, growing more and more uncomfortable with each sweet word that spilled from his lips. It was like a confession, one she shouldn’t be privy to, even though he was talking about her.
“We’ll see, but we’re not here to talk about me. This is about you.”
“I hate when things are about me.”
His fingers laced between hers and he squeezed. “You put on a good show, then.”
“I guess I’m used to it, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Alex grunted. “Speaking of not liking things and getting back to my original question, you may not hate me, but what exactly don’t you like about me?”
“You’re…” She hesitated.
“Say it.”
He was probably the last person in the world she would choose to say these words to, but maybe he was the only person in the world who would truly understand.
“You said I remind you of yourself. I guess I know what you mean, and the truth is, you’re what I’m afraid of becoming.
I almost… I wanted to be with you that night.
I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to think, at all, for once in my life.
I could’ve been on that motorcycle with you and then maybe everything I’d ever worked for would have been gone in an instant, and you made me feel… ”
“Like what?”
Terrified.
“Forget it,” she said, ready to jump up and leave if he pushed her to say it.
That she’d never felt so alive as she had when she was in his arms, not even on a tennis court.
“It’s not important. I was acting like an irresponsible idiot.
I lost control for one night and it cost me, but not as much as it could have. It won’t happen again.”
That had practically become her mantra over the last few months.
“You can’t be in control all the time. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”
“No it’s not,” she said, pulling her hand free from his and scrambling to her feet. She was halfway to the gate when he called her name.
“I’m sorry.”
She froze but didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry for making you feel”—he hesitated for a moment—“that way. I’m sorry I can’t change that.” His voice was soft but firm, just like his touch when he took her hand, and something in her heart cracked open.
“I…” Her voice failed her. “I’ve got to go.”
“So that’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
She didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t owe him anything at all.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
It was the truth and she didn’t bother to contradict him.
What would be the point? Another ten rounds of verbal sparring that went absolutely nowhere and all the while her resolve weakening little by little.
She should leave, get out of here before she lost control again. She should just leave before he—
“I want you.” Her breath caught on a gasp as he continued. “You know I do and that scares you, but the only thing that scares you more is that you want me, too,” Alex said, his voice deep and husky.
Penny’s pulse thrummed in her throat and she closed her eyes, trying to keep herself steady.
She could hear his sneakers moving against the clay, and when she opened her eyes again, he was right in front of her.
He stepped closer, cupping her cheek, tilting her face up to his.
He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers before following the path of his fingertips.
“Alex,” Penny said, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned into the touch. “Wait.” She pressed her hands against his chest, though she didn’t push him away. “I’m sorry.”
“Penny…” He bent, resting his forehead against hers, his hands dropping to her waist, tugging her closer.
“This isn’t who I am,” she said, twisting her fingers into the cotton of his shirt. “I can’t… I can’t do this.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Won’t,” Penny whispered, hating herself for it.
Alex stumbled backward like he’d been sucker punched. “Fine. If that’s what you want, fine.”
“Alex? Are you finished? We have a reservation.”
Penny looked up and saw Caroline Morneau at the gate.
The agent’s timing was as impeccable as she looked.
Her blond hair was elegantly arranged in a twist at the back of her neck; a sharp suit jacket and pencil skirt gave her an air of sophistication and grace that made Penny feel like an underdressed little kid, especially since she had clay sticking to the backs of her legs and rubbed into her hair and clothes.
Then she remembered, he had somewhere to be, and apparently wherever that was, Caroline Morneau was going with him.
“I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled, nodding to Caroline as she passed her, careful not to get any dirt on the woman’s designer clothes.
As soon as Penny stepped through the door of her house, she caught sight of Jack pacing back and forth in the living room, his cell phone glued to his ear.
“Who is that?” she mouthed, but he shook his head. She moved into the living room and plopped down on the couch, waiting for him to finish up.
“Thank you, Frank. I’ll be in touch tomorrow and her schedule will be in your inbox as soon as we hang up. All right, have a good night,” Jack said, and ended the call.
“Who’s getting my schedule?”
“Frank Granholm from Nike Tennis.” He nodded at a stack of papers at the center of the coffee table, brightly colored tabs protruding out of the pile. “They sent over your contract.”
It was the perfect distraction: dozens of pages to sift through that would take her mind off Alex and everything that had happened while they lay side by side on her practice court.
They had almost kissed.
She wanted him to kiss her and she felt like a ridiculous child, especially in those last few seconds while Caroline Morneau bugged him about their date or whatever it was.
It wasn’t jealousy. There was nothing to be jealous about.
Maybe they were having a business meeting; maybe Alex was looking to sign with Caroline, or maybe he just wanted to screw her.
It didn’t matter. Despite what he’d said, about how beautiful he thought she was, he’d probably thought that Aussie supermodel was beautiful, too, and Caroline was undeniably gorgeous.
Besides, Alex could go out with anyone he liked, why should it make any difference to her?
The contract required her signature in several places and there were three copies—one for Jack, one for herself, and one to send back to Nike.
Each time she signed it, the small sparks of everything she’d felt for Alex since that night in Australia were pushed aside, and eventually, she hoped, they’d be gone for good.