Chapter 13 #2
Jude told us he’d be in the tennis dome, and we found him there a few minutes later, standing in the middle of a crowd of women, all looking adoringly up at him as he spoke.
“Of course,” I laughed.
“Does this always happen with him?” Blake asked.
“Ever since he was a teenager. Actually, before then, though it got way worse once he got famous.”
Jude had always attracted the attention of members of the opposite sex with his blonde hair, easy grin, and naturally flirtatious demeanor.
Members of the same sex too, though he always said it was a shame he didn’t swing that way.
But it wasn’t his looks that made him cocky.
It was his prowess on the tennis court, or at least it used to be, until his injury.
He was the best, and he knew he was the best.
Mom told me once that his cockiness was a product of how much pressure he put on himself. That he used it to try to talk himself up, when really he was a scared little boy half the time, terrified of failing.
I tried to remember that at times like these, when all I wanted to do was roll my eyes and tell the blushing women around my brother that he had a giant wart on his toe he couldn’t get rid of for years as a teenager. That his gym clothes smelled like a rodent had died in them.
That he hadn’t been with anyone seriously since he’d been injured—and had his son Jack—because he was too scared of disappointing anyone.
But if I sat here psychoanalyzing my brother, we’d be here all day.
Besides, I was on edge. Something had shifted when I’d given Blake his fishing rod; some fundamental thing in the energy between us.
As we stood there next to each other, I felt as if there was a new heat radiating off him, and my body was responding.
My palms were beginning to sweat, and I felt like I could feel my pulse throbbing.
I thought Blake had felt it too—or at least some version of it—from the way he’d looked at me after I’d laughed, and the way we’d walked most of the way here in mostly charged silence, our small talk coming off in awkward spurts.
But he seemed okay now. He gave a soft laugh as Jude answered questions from a wealthy-looking blonde woman who kept interrupting the other women to ask even more questions.
Blake leaned in to me. “Should we rescue him?”
Heat roared across my skin at his sudden proximity, but I responded as normally as I could. “I’d rather not, but seeing as we need him,” I said, trying to be light and funny. But when I lifted my hand to try to get Jude’s attention, my fingers brushed across the length of his bicep.
We’d accidentally touched before. I’d even ‘not untouched him’ in the cafe that time, and I hadn’t imploded. But this time it was like I’d struck a live wire. Or stroked a live wire.
I jerked my hand down. “Sorry.” It had been a while since that had happened. I was good at making sure it never did. So this time, the shock of it washed through me hard. By the way Blake was looking at me, I could tell it was going through him, too. Or at least, something was.
“We could just stop, you know,” Blake said quietly.
Nerves jolted through me. “Stop what?”
“Walking on eggshells.”
I turned to face him. “I’m not walking on eggshells.”
“Then why did you just act like you were getting burned touching me?”
“I didn’t—” I took a breath, facing forward again.
Blake kept his eyes on me. “Why do you shut down after laughing at something I say, like you can’t be happy around me?”
So he’d noticed. He’d felt it too. But just as quickly as I felt the shock of his response, an angry heat ran through me. “Because,” I said, not daring to look at him. “We agreed we’d keep things professional.” I was unable to keep my feelings from my voice, though I kept the volume low.
All attention was focused on Jude. Still, we were very public.
“We are keeping things professional,” Blake said. “It’s not a crime to touch each other.”
Heat simmered in my chest. He was upset with me because I was being careful? What did he expect? I reached up and put a hand on my neck as if I could physically keep myself calm. “I can’t just ‘be natural’ around you,” I said, “laugh whenever I want to.”
“Why not?”
The heat exploded, and I turned on him. I tried to keep the words in, but they flew out of me in a rapid-fire whisper-yell.
“Because if I let myself be the way I want to around you, it would be too easy for us to slip into something that would be devastating for both of us. Don’t you remember how panicked you were when you thought we—”
The woman in front of us had turned and was eyeing us both. I shot her a look; she startled and faced forward again.
I pulled him back a few feet and lowered my voice to a softer whisper.
“When you thought we’d slept together? You were horrified.
So I don’t know why you’re being so cavalier about this.
Maybe it seems like fun now, but it wouldn’t be.
Not if anyone found out. Both our businesses would collapse, Blake, and Lila—”
“Okay,” he said. “You’re right.”
But he wouldn’t look away. When I dared a quick look at him, he didn’t look sorry, either. He looked like he was barely containing his own anger. A hot, tense beat passed.
“I wasn’t horrified about the idea of sleeping with you, Cassandra,” he said.
I said nothing, just looked forward at the crowd. I was mortified to feel my eyes burning with hot tears, the crowd blurring.
I blinked rapidly, willing them to disappear.
Then, of all things, Blake’s hand brushed against mine once more.
I looked at him, incredulous. No one would see what he was doing. Only I could feel the touch of his finger against the back of my hand. My stomach jolted with as much adrenaline as if he’d leaned forward to kiss me.
Because that’s what you really want him to do, isn’t it?
His eyes stayed on mine, their caramel color seeming to darken as he stroked the back of my hand with his knuckle.
Somehow, the touch, innocent as it was, was deeply intimate.
Erotic, even. Liquid heat poured into my lower abdomen.
It wasn’t that moment between us when I’d surprised him with his lost fishing rod that changed everything, I realized.
That was the catalyst maybe, the spark. But this—this was the fuel. A test. A dare, to pull away.
A challenge.
Move it away.
But I didn’t. My eyelids fluttered as he stroked at the side of my palm, the sensitive nerve endings there snapping and fizzing.
I imagined his finger stroking other parts of my skin. Warmer, wetter parts.
My center throbbed with heat and I swallowed, my mouth, in contrast, bone dry.
But then applause rang out—thunderous, across the whole group, and I slipped my hand away, smoothing down my blazer.
Jude spotted us then, waving. “Sorry ladies, duty calls. It was a dream talking to you.”
Blake took a step away from me, which felt like something tearing off of me.
Several of the women tittered and for the briefest, unhinged moment, I thought they were tittering at us. But of course it was only Jude, smiling and shaking hands.
“You guys okay?” Jude asked when he reached us, genuine concern on his face.
“Fine,” I said, plastering on a smile. I hoped I hadn’t answered too quickly or too loud. “Big day ahead of us.”
Jude studied me a moment longer, then lifted a chin at Blake in greeting. “Hey man.”
Blake smiled. “Hi,” he said, his face a mask.
Thankfully, after a moment, a grin spread across my brother’s face. “Alright, you need keys to one of our carts, right?”
“Please,” I said, letting out a breath. I didn’t look Blake’s way, but I felt his heat radiating; my body responding to it with fire. I knew the only thing that would help would be to stay far away from Blake. But it was too late for that now.
Jude kept grinning, like a happy puppy dog, oblivious. “I didn’t bring the keys,” he said. “Thought I’d walk with you guys down to the club.”
My stomach churned, but it was good. I needed time to get my head on straight.
One last attempt to keep whatever was happening from happening.
I glanced over at Blake, but he was already turned for the door, his hands carefully shoved into the pockets of his slacks.