Chapter 6 #2
“You played well,” Penny said, sliding into the back of the town car that would drive them home from the courts.
“No thanks to you,” he quipped. “My slice was crap.”
“Your slice was fine, and I’ve never been a good coach anyway.” She sighed as he lifted her feet and deposited them in his lap, unclasping the boot and letting it fall to the floor of the car. His thumbs massaged the area gently.
“How’s that feel?”
Just a few days ago, that area had been extremely sensitive to the touch, the slightest pressure sending spikes of pain through her leg. Now it had faded to almost nothing upon contact and actually felt good, hovering over that border between pleasure and pain.
She moaned, leaning her head back against the car window and sliding closer to him as his hands trailed up from her ankles over her calves. “You just played; shouldn’t I be giving you the massage?”
“Make it up to me later,” he murmured as his fingers slipped beneath the skirt of her dress, grazing the inside of her thigh just as the car pulled to a stop in front of his house.
The driver’s eyes widened in the rearview mirror as they straightened themselves quickly, Penny replacing the boot, Alex opening the door and then helping her out.
The driver retrieved Alex’s bags from the trunk and then sped off into the evening.
“I think we scandalized him,” Penny said, laughing as they climbed the steps and he unlocked the door.
“I’m sure he’s seen worse,” Alex said, allowing her to move past him into the house, and then he hesitated. “Look at that.”
“What?” she asked, looking around, seeing nothing but the white townhouses and tree-lined gardens of his street over his shoulder.
“You’re not limping.”
She glanced down at her feet and smiled. There was only a twinge of pain, nothing too bad, so small she’d barely noticed it as she walked up to the house. Putting all her weight on her good foot, she rotated the ankle. “Feels okay.”
Alex slung his bag across his back and then swooped in, pulling her into his arms bridal style, her shriek echoing down the nearly silent street. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? The rest must be doing it good.”
“Or you have magical healing powers in your hands.”
“I’ve been saying that for years and finally I’ve found a girl who believes me.”
After kicking the door shut behind him, he carried her into the kitchen and set her down at the kitchen table.
“What time are they expecting us at Cecconi’s?” he asked, grabbing them each a bottle of water from the fridge before leaning on the island at the center of the room.
“Seven,” she said with a sigh, looking down at her dress, fingering the ends of her windblown hair. “I should change. There’ll be cameras and sponsors there tonight.”
“Do you really want to go?” he asked, putting down his bottle.
Penny wrung her fingers together as she looked up at him. Was she that easy to read or did he just always know exactly the right thing to say, voicing what she wanted before she even had a chance to do it herself ? “If I said I didn’t…”
“Then that’s absolutely perfect. I’d spend every night in if I could spend them with you. I love you, Pen.”
He’d said those words before, just moments after winning the French Open, but she thought he hardly remembered saying them.
Neither of them had mentioned it since, but now it hung in the air between them and it felt like the first time.
No adrenaline, no crowd losing their minds in the background or cameras capturing every moment, just the two of them in his kitchen, deciding to stay home rather than head back out into the London night.
Her ankle didn’t twinge at all as she stood and crossed the tiled floor—or maybe it did and she just didn’t care.
He offered her his hand and she took it, letting him pull her into his arms. She raised her head and he met her halfway, swooping down and sealing his lips over hers, his hands gripping her hips as the kiss shifted from soft and sweet to something a little different, a little rougher.
Sliding her tongue against his, she was suddenly weightless, his hands under her thighs lifting her and spinning quickly, setting her on the kitchen island, skirt pushed up around her waist. Fingers, calloused from hours upon hours of training, danced across her thighs, drawing her to the edge of the smooth marble surface.
Penny reached behind him and tugged at the back of his shirt, pulling the soft cotton over his head before lightly scratching her nails down his back, around his sides, and then up over the smooth muscles of his chest.
He groaned into her mouth before pulling away, a hand tilting her head to just the right angle to run his teeth toward the sensitive skin of her neck. His fingers twined into the chain of the necklace he’d given her in France, the one with the 1936 British penny attached, the one she always wore.
“Like this?” he asked, though he had to know the answer.
Her hands flew to the button of his pants, fumbling with it for a moment before releasing the clasp and pulling down the zipper as he fisted his hands in the skirt of her dress.
She lifted up a bit to free the material, but as she did, bracing herself on his shoulders, a motion just behind them caught her eye.
Light brown hair, but eyes exactly like Alex’s and a hand over her mouth.
His mother was standing in the open doorway.
“Alex,” Penny said, tensing, and he pulled away immediately, then followed her gaze behind him.
“Christ! Mum, what are you doing here?”
Penny slid off the island and winced as she landed a little awkwardly, but more in anticipation of the pain than anything else. She straightened her dress and tried her best to hide behind Alex as he pulled his shirt back over his head, sending his hair in all directions.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna Russell said in a soft English accent, different from her son’s but Penny couldn’t quite pinpoint how. “I wanted to check in since I haven’t been able to get ahold of you since you’ve been home and I… I am… Oh my goodness, my dear, I can’t apologize enough. I’m Anna.”
Penny peeked out from behind Alex’s shoulder and tried to make her feet move, but they felt like she’d just played a five setter.
Despite being all the way across the room, it was almost like his mother was standing just inches from her, taking in the bite mark on her shoulder and the wrinkles in her dress, the mess that must have been her hair.
“Mum, just give us a minute, okay?”
“Of course,” she said, and spun around back into the hallway.
“Oh my God,” Penny said, her feet finally moving as she paced the small space between the table and the island, back and forth, until Alex’s hands on her waist stopped her. “Oh my God, Alex.”
“It’s fine, Pen. She didn’t really see anything, and she doesn’t care, I promise.”
“I care. She’s your mother and she just saw us almost… oh God.”
“You’ve got to calm down,” he said. “She’s going to love you, and this will just be a funny story one day, something to tell the grandkids, eh?”
“You’re hilarious. This isn’t funny. I wanted her to like me, to know that I’m not just another—”
“She knows.”
“How can—”
“Penny, she knows because I told her so. I told her I wanted her to meet you. That she was going to love you, like I do.”
His words were like a balm, sliding over her panic. She knew all of this, he’d told her enough, but it was just as beautiful every time he said it. She’d never been loved like this before… and that made what had just happened even more humiliating.
“I can’t,” she said, scrunching up her face against that feeling. “I just want to die.”
“Right, okay,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to go out there and tell her you’re too embarrassed to come out, all right? She’ll understand.”
Penny sighed. “She’s going to think I’m a coward.”
“No, she won’t. I know my mum. She’s as red as a tomato out there right now, too. Gimme a minute.”
“It’s okay. I’ll… I’ll come with you.”
Penny ran a hand through her hair, smoothed down the line of her dress, straightened her shoulders, and took a step forward.
Alex’s hand slipped into hers. “You’re not walking to the gallows, Pen. She’s just my mum. Relax.”
“Right,” she muttered between her teeth as she forced her mouth into a smile. “I can’t wait for you to meet my dad.”
Her smile became genuine as she heard Alex’s murmured “Fuck.” However the next few minutes went, it was going to be easy as pie compared with what her dad would put Alex through.
They stepped through the doorway together, but as soon as they made it into the hallway, they realized it was too late. Alex’s mom was gone. There was a note on the side table, neat scrawl across it. Alex read it and then passed it to her.
So sorry. Still on for dinner tomorrow night. Be safe!
Penny’s cheeks flamed. “Your mother thinks I’m a… what do they call it here? A slag.”
“Pen, no, she doesn’t. I promise you. We’ll all go out to dinner tomorrow and be laughing about this by dessert.”
She really hoped so, because if this was a sign of things to come, London was looking to be even more of a disaster than Paris.