Erin drew in a slow breath before she spoke. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.” Lia leaned her head against the back of her seat, trying to ignore the familiar fruity scent of Erin’s perfume and the blazing warmth of her body, so tantalisingly close but still so out of reach.
“You won’t like the person I am when I lose. I’ve never been good at it.”
“There’s something the great Erin Finch isn’t good at? Shocking.”
In the reflection from the window, Erin didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I mean it, Lia.”
“I just want to check you’re okay.”
Erin’s eyes fluttered closed, and the next breath she let out was ragged. “Of course I’m not okay. But I don’t deserve to have you come over here to try and make me feel better. I don’t deserve anything from you.”
“Why not?”
Finally, finally, Erin turned to face her. For the first time in two weeks, their gazes met, and their gazes held. Lia’s heart thudded fast—too fast—in her chest.
“Because I hurt you.” Though no one was close to them—save for Alex, who already, presumably, knew the whole story—Erin kept her voice low, the words little more than a murmur Lia had to strain to hear.
“I think I hurt you, too.”
Erin didn’t nod, but she didn’t deny it, either. “Why did you come over here?”
“I told you. To check that you’re okay. And because I don’t think staying away from you is doing either of us any good. I miss you.”
“Lia…”
“Come on.” To take some of the weight off her words, she tried to make her voice lighter, teasing. She didn’t want Erin to think she wanted more than what they had—even though deep, deep down, that was exactly what she wanted—because wanting more than they’d had was what had turned things so sour between them.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to end the night in bed together?” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice as she spoke into Erin’s ear. “Distract ourselves from an otherwise terrible evening?” She was gratified when Erin shuddered, goose bumps visible on her neck and upper arm.
“I thought you didn’t want that anymore.”
“I may have been too hasty.”
“I don’t know if I want that anymore.”
“Oh.” Rearing back, Lia felt the words like a sucker punch to the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. “Okay.”
“Shit, that’s not what I—” Erin shook her head, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean?”
“I don’t want to talk about it here.” She glanced meaningfully toward the front of the plane, where their teammates were gathered. “Can you come over tonight? To talk? I can give you a lift back to our building.”
Something in Erin’s expression—a vulnerability shining bright in her eyes—made a tiny spark of hope ignite in Lia’s chest. But she dared not get ahead of herself, dared not read too much into it, dared not hope too hard that Erin might feel the same way she did. “Okay, yeah.”
Erin reached out, fingers brushing the back of Lia’s hand. “Thank you.”
Though the contact was fleeting, it sent a thrill through her, all the way to her toes.
Chapter 20
It was late by the time they made it back to the training ground.
In the inky black of the car park, as rain teemed over them—fitting, considering the group’s mood—Erin struggled to find Lia among the bodies of their teammates as they all arranged their way home.
Was it a good idea, inviting Lia back to her place? Inviting her back into Erin’s life? Erin wasn’t sure, but she was sure she couldn’t keep going the way things were.
