They were killing time in the players’ lounge before Penny’s match, which had been rescheduled from the day before because of the rain. She’d asked them to be her cheering section and they were more than happy to oblige. The entire tournament was buzzing about the picture that had been leaked to every major media outlet Caroline could find. Jasmine had barely glanced at it, but that was enough to tell it was a totally private moment that was put on display for the entire world.
“Okay,” Indy said, scanning the men in the room. “Him, over there by the window, with the bright blue shirt.”
“Gay,” Jasmine said, dismissing him as a candidate.
Indy tilted her head. “Really?”
“Came out last year.”
“Huh, okay. You’re going to have to explain your type for me, then, because I’ve pointed out like a dozen perfectly hot guys and you’ve shot down every one.”
“It’s not my fault the last one was gay. Otherwise, he would’ve been an option.”
Indy narrowed her eyes, leaning forward. “I call bullshit. I think you don’t want to be attracted to anyone else, so you’re not.”
Scoffing, Jasmine examined her nails, picking at a broken cuticle. “Attraction is biology, Indy. You can’t force yourself to ignore it or make it go away.”
Indy shrugged. “Love makes you blind.”
“Maybe.” Her eye caught on a flash of brown hair across the room. The hair belonged to a young man working his way down the buffet table.
“Paolo Macchia,” Indy said when she saw where Jasmine’s eyes had focused. “I saw him play in New York a couple of years ago.”
Jasmine grinned. Olive skin and a floppy mess of dark hair, tall but lean, and like pretty much every guy on tour, in incredible shape. “He’s cute.”
“Very cute, with an amazing Italian accent.”
“Good to know.”
Indy leapt to her feet and started in that direction.
“Where are you going?” Jasmine asked, following her.
“To say hi,” Indy said over her shoulder, making a beeline for Paolo.
Jasmine grabbed her arm and tried to pull her to a stop. “You don’t even know if he speaks English.”
“He totally does,” she said, stepping in front of Paolo as he started loading his plate with lettuce. “Hi.”
He stopped and looked up, a wide smile spreading across his face as he looked back and forth between them. “Hello.”
“I’m Indiana,” she said, but leaned away, giving Jasmine a gentle shove forward. “And this is my friend Jasmine.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Paolo said, his hazel eyes crinkling as his smile deepened. His Italian accent was soft and musical, his English very good.
Indy coughed. “And I’ve gotta go make a call. Be back in a second.” She pulled her phone out and walked away before Jasmine could say a word.
Paolo cleared his throat softly.
“Sorry about that.”
“Do not apologize,” he insisted, like he really wasn’t bothered at all. “Your name is Jasmine?”
“Yes, Jasmine Randazzo,” she said, waiting for the immediate flash of recognition in his eyes, but it didn’t come.
“I am Paolo Macchia.”
“I know.” She cringed inwardly. Shit. He probably thought she was some silly girl with a crush who hadn’t been brave enough to approach him on her own. The last part might be true, but the first definitely wasn’t. She still had feelings for Teddy, and there wasn’t room in her heart for anyone else.
