Chapter 7 #2
“Cal, no.”
I shook my head while reaching for my bag, but before I could fully straighten up, his hand wrapped gently around my arm, pulling me back toward him.
And before I could even react properly…
His mouth was on mine.
Warm.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
The taste of sweat and mint lingered against my tongue while his other hand slid firmly against my waist before lowering to cup my ass through my shorts.
Lord have mercy.
My body responded instantly.
It always did.
I kissed him back harder than I meant to, fingers gripping lightly against his shirt while his mouth moved against mine like he already knew exactly what would undo me.
He did.
Every single time.
Then suddenly…
My phone rang loudly against the wooden bench beside us.
We both pulled apart, breathing heavily, our lips slick under the harsh park lights.
My phone continued vibrating face up on top of my gym bag, the screen illuminating the dark.
David.
Cal’s eyes dropped immediately toward the glowing screen before lifting back to mine slowly, the playful warmth in his expression freezing over into something sharp and possessive.
“David, huh?” he asked, a single raised eyebrow demanding an explanation.
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my lips still tingled from the weight of his kiss.
“Bye, Cal.”
I grabbed my bag quickly, forcing my feet to move, desperate to walk away before I made another bad decision.
“Nia,” he called after me, his deep voice heavy and echoing across the empty asphalt.
I waved him off without turning around, heading straight toward my truck and unlocking the doors.
And somehow, even with David’s name still glowing brightly across my dashboard screen…
All I could still taste was Cal.
I finally made it home a little after ten, feeling equal parts exhausted and restless.
My body was completely spent from the drills, but my mind refused to settle.
Too much had happened in a single day.
The flowers.
David.
The court.
Cal’s mouth on mine.
I dropped my bag near the bedroom door before running a deep bath and pouring lavender Epsom salt into the steaming water.
A few minutes later, I sank into the clawfoot tub slowly and let out a soft breath as the heat wrapped around my muscles.
The bathroom glowed softly from candlelight while jazz played low through the speaker on my counter.
For the first time all day, silence finally settled around me.
I leaned my head back against the tub and closed my eyes, letting the warmth relax my body while trying to clear my head.
Trying being the key word.
Because somehow, both Cal and David kept rotating through my thoughts like two completely different problems I didn’t need right now.
One familiar.
One brand new.
One dangerous because I already knew him too well.
The other dangerous because I wanted to.
After sitting there for a while, I finally reached for my phone resting nearby and pressed David’s number.
He answered almost immediately.
“Ms. Sterling,” he greeted smoothly, his deep voice immediately pulling a smile from me.
“Mr. Scott.”
“You were on my mind,” he admitted easily.
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
I smiled to myself while tracing my fingers through the water, watching the ripples catch the warm candlelight.
“Good thoughts, I hope.”
“Oh, you know it.”
His confidence still amused me.
Not cocky, exactly.
Just intentional.
“I’m really looking forward to seeing you Friday,” he continued.
“Is it okay if I have a car pick you up?”
Honestly, I preferred that.
I never liked feeling trapped on first dates.
And even though I could always call Mars if needed, having my own easy exit plan made me more comfortable.
“Sure,” I replied simply.
“Good.”
A small smile tugged at my lips while I stared absently toward the ceiling.
“I’m actually looking forward to seeing you too,” I admitted quietly.
“I’m starting to forget what you look like.”
He laughed softly.
“Is that right?”
And just like that, a FaceTime request popped across my screen.
I laughed immediately.
“Absolutely not.”
“You started this.”
Shaking my head and smiling, I slid carefully out of the tub and wrapped myself in a silk robe before answering the call.
The camera connected, and there he was.
That handsome face instantly filled the screen, a smile already spread across his lips like he knew exactly what effect he had.
And annoyingly, he definitely had one.
I smiled before settling onto the edge of my bed.
“Oh, yes,” I teased softly.
“I remember now.”
David grinned.
“I’d never forget your face.”
His eyes moved over me briefly before settling again.
“You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
The sincerity in his voice made me strangely shy for half a second.
Which almost never happened.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Did you at least like the flowers?”
“I loved them, actually.”
I turned the camera briefly toward the large arrangement now sitting beautifully in a vase on the coffee table in the corner of my room.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as the woman they were sent to.”
I rolled my eyes immediately while smiling.
“Okay, now that was smooth.”
“It was true.”
We ended up talking longer than I expected again.
And somewhere in the middle of all the flirting, I realized something else
about David.
He listened.
Most men spent conversations waiting to talk about themselves.
David actually paid attention.
“Where did you grow up Nia?” he finally asked, my name sounding smooth
coming from his mouth.
I leaned back slightly against my pillows.
"South side Houston.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“That explains a lot.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean Mr. Greenwich Connecticut?”
He laughed softly.
“It means you carry yourself like somebody who had to build confidence instead of inheriting it.”
That caught me off guard slightly.
Because somehow, that was one of the realest things anybody had ever observed to me.
Before I knew it, the nightstand clock read nearly two in the morning. Yet, somehow, we were still talking as if we’d known each other for years.
Everything was on the table—childhood stories, travel, family, dreams, and cringeworthy moments.
We even slipped into random nonsense that only sounded hilarious because we were both thoroughly exhausted and utterly comfortable.
It was nostalgic in the best way. It mirrored those all-night conversations from my twenties, when staying up late with someone new felt thrilling rather than draining.
Curled under my comforter, I smiled at my glowing screen as David reflected on his childhood between Greenwich and Manhattan, occasionally running a hand through his beard as he listened to me speak.
The low lighting in his room cast softly against his rich chocolate skin while his phone stayed propped beside him.
God he was handsome.
Dangerously handsome actually.
And entirely too smooth, but somehow it didn’t feel performative.
That was what kept catching me off guard.
“I better go before I fall asleep during training tomorrow,” I finally said
with a light tired laugh while rubbing beneath my eye.
David smiled softly through the screen.
“I enjoyed every bit of talking to you tonight.”
Something about the way his voice softened when he said it made warmth
spread through my chest unexpectedly.
“I did too,” I admitted honestly, smiling sleepily into the camera.
For a second neither one of us said anything.
Just looked at each other quietly.
Comfortable silence.
The dangerous kind.
“Well,” he said finally. “Goodnight beautiful.”
I shook my head smiling.
“Good morning slash night Mr. Scott.”
He laughed softly.
“Night, Ms. Kingsley.”
I ended the call and stared at my ceiling for a second afterward, my room
suddenly feeling quieter than before.
Then slowly…
I rolled over smiling into my pillow like a teenager.