The conversation was going nowhere fast. “Fine. Enjoy your bottle.” She wanted to turn around and keep running, but there was this inexplicable need inside of her to be near him. When he wasn’t around, it was a tiny ache, a constant reminder that something was missing. Now that he was there, standing inches away, close enough to reach out and touch, it was so much worse.
“Penny?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re still here.”
“Yeah, um,” she said, her mind racing to come up with an excuse.
He reached out a hand and she stared at it for a split second, hesitating as if it might burn her. She pressed her hand into his and shivered as the calloused tips of his fingers slid across her skin. Looking up, she saw he’d moved closer, close enough to bend his head to hers, if he wanted, close enough to—
“Penny,” he murmured nearly against her lips before he touched them with his. He slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss immediately. She could taste the alcohol on his tongue, but it barely registered as she pushed up onto her toes, winding an arm over his shoulders, hooking a finger into the belt loop of his jeans, anchoring herself to him. His stubble scratched against her cheeks and his hands fell to her hips, pulling her body into his, their hips colliding, before one hand slid up to her neck and the other downover her backside. A jolt surged through her as a low moan escaped from the back of her throat.
He broke away then and trailed his hot, open mouth across her jawline and over her neck. Penny shivered in his arms as his lips hovered over her pulse point.
“Stay with me,” he mumbled, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin.
“What?” she asked, trying to force herself to focus on his words and not the feeling of his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of her running jacket, brushing against the skin of her waist.
“The house I’m letting, it’s right there. Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, cupping her cheek and pressing a soft kiss to her lips again. His eyes softened. “Penny,” he started again, but she stepped away from him, cutting him off. He was drunk. She shouldn’t be doing this. Who knew if he would even remember this in the morning?
“I’m sorry.”
And she sprinted down the beach knowing her dreams would be full of him, no matter how fast she ran.
Awkward. That was the only way Penny could describe the heavy silence that hung over the office the next morning as she and Alex waited for Dom to arrive. There were only inches separating the two chairs in front of the desk, and that meant she was sitting only inches away from Alex after a text from their coach had summoned them both there instead of where they should be, out on the training court.
What the hell was taking Dom so long? It was seven o’clock in the morning. Nothing else was going on at OBX except breakfast, and so help her, if she was sitting in the most painfully awkward situation of her life while he was enjoying his morning coffee, coach or not, she was going to let him have it. She started tapping her fingers against the wooden arm of the chair.
Granted, she’d still have to be near Alex, but at least they’d have something else to do, a distraction from how good it had felt to give in, to finally close the space between them. Penny had never been kissed like that, not even by him, like she was the only thing holding him together, like he needed her.
She glanced to her right and had to suppress a sigh. He looked like hell—dark purple circles under his eyes, drawn expression, shoulders slumped. He looked as bad as she felt.
Suddenly, a large hand landed on top of hers, ceasing the tapping. “Please stop,” Alex rasped. She stiffened and nodded. Their eyes met for the first time since she’d walked into the room to find him sitting there, head hanging back, legs extended out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.
“Ah, good, you’re both here,” Dom said, jogging up the last few steps into his office. They turned toward him together and Alex’s hand shot away from hers, but not before Dom saw it and raised his eyebrows. He pushed on, however. “Sorry about the wait,” he said, but didn’t offer an explanation. He stepped behind his desk and sat down, picking up a thick envelope and fiddling with the flap.
“So,” he said, looking back and forth between them, “do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Bad,” Alex muttered.
“Good,” Penny said right over him.
Dom snorted and shook his head. “The draw is out for Paris.”
Penny sat up straight, but Alex didn’t move.
“Funny enough, you’re ranked the same, twenty-five.”
“Lovely,” Alex said through a grunt.
“Damn it,” Penny said. She knew her ranking might drop after not playing in Rome, but she’d hoped to stay in the top twenty. “When would I get Lutrova?”
“Third round,” Dom said, winking at her. “So, the end of week one.”
“Gotta win two matches first, love,” Alex quipped, his posture unchanged.
Penny rolled her eyes and then turned to Dom. “Wait, was that the good news or the bad news?”
