I can’t help it. Laughter erupts even as I tease, “All that from coffee? Guess I should’ve brought you the entire pot instead of a mug.”
Her eyes crinkle, but she shakes her head even as her curls tumble forward—hiding her face. Despite the limited time I’d had with Maya before her world became social media fodder, I picked up on how she used to do that physical maneuver to hide her next smarmy comment. “Still dramatic over caffeine?”
“Who isn’t?” I retort, but the words don’t land the way I intend because there’s one person we both know who wasn’t a slave to caffeine the way the two of us were. The one person who ties us together.
Bryce.
The hum of the refrigerator and the clink of her fiddling with her spoon are the only sounds in the kitchen as the past lies between us. Maya lifts her mug to her lips, trying for relaxed, but her body’s too coiled. Like she doesn’t trust herself to relax around me—or worse, like she doesn’t want to.
And that’s the only thing I want more than anything else in the world.
I clear my throat. “So…what are your plans while you’re here?”
Her gaze flicks to mine, wary. Then her shield drops just enough to make my heart stutter. “Today, I thought I’d walk around. Get the lay of the land.”
“That’s good. Do you need—want—a tour guide?”
Her head shakes and sets her curls bouncing again. “Not yet.”
I take hope from her words. She said “yet,” as if she means to stay longer than just today. As casually as I can manage, I turn my back to her and pull down a second mug to make my own coffee. “Just let me know.”
She slides off her stool, clutching her cup like it’s her lifeline. “Am I permitted to take this to my room?”
“You’re welcome to do whatever you want, wherever you want,” I blurt out.
Her eyes widen before she throws her head back and laughs.
My eyes are drawn to the slim line of her smooth skin. When she comes down from her hilarity, a ghost of a smile graces her lips. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m about to check in with my girls,” as if that explains it all.
I think about my words before I groan. There’s no way to prevent the burning flush from climbing my cheeks.
Maya teases, “Look at you blushing like you just met Brendan Blake backstage.”
“Considering I did a long time ago, I know for damn certain I didn’t turn beet red.”
Maya’s expression clearly calls me a liar. “You blush. All the time.”
Just for you. Every time I’m around you. You just never noticed.Smoothly, I reply, “Then, I guess some things don’t change.”
“Some things do.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.
Suddenly the coffee isn’t the only thing heating up in this kitchen. Her eyes flick to mine, lightning-bright, daring me to look away. I don’t. I can’t. For a second, the air tightens between us, all static and possibility, as if I reached out, one of two things could happen.
I could pull her against me, and we’d have the ability to build on the ease from that first night on the rooftop. Or, the catastrophic option, Maya disappears from my life as part of her effort to erase the life she endured with her douche canoe ex.
Before I can decide, she’s heading for the exit. “Thanks for the coffee. I needed it desperately.” Her voice trembles enough to tell me it’s not the whole truth, but she’s not ready to share what it is.
“I’ll leave a property map and a list of cell phone numbers for you on the counter in the event something happens,” I promise.
She offers me a wan smile before disappearing through the doors and likely back up to her room to make her call.
As I watch her slip away, I know one thing with absolute certainty—I’m much more stimulated by something other than coffee this morning.
11
MAN-TO-MAN: EACH DEFENDER COVERS A SPECIFIC OFFENSIVE PLAYER.
