“Was she a good kisser? Did you fall madly in love? Does she have a name?”
“She was a good kisser. But I doubt I was.” I smiled. “Let’s say it wasn’t meant to be.”
Chloe’s grin widened. “Ineeddetails.”
“You’ve gotten all you’re going to get, greedy.”
“Ugh,sogreedy.” She flopped back dramatically. “Fine, next question: If you had to play doubles with me for a year, how long before you’d lose your mind?”
“It’s my turn to ask.” I leaned back on my elbows, lying side by side with her.
“I don’t count your last answer,” she said, her head turning towards me. “I didn’t even get her name.”
“Because it doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe it matters to me.” She smirked. Silently, I asked myself why. “What if I want to call her up?”
I snorted. “Why? To compare notes?” Immediately, I regretted bringing up the kiss. It was a year ago, and it felt like the dust had settled since we’d argued. Panicked, I looked over at her, but she had taken it in her stride.
Chloe laughed, shaking her head. “I could start anI Kissed Inés Costasupport group. We can all chip in for therapy.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry. That was harsh.” Chloe’s voice softened, and when I looked at her, there was something genuine in her eyes. Then slowly, her gaze shifted down. “But I do think about it.”
Did she really think about it too, with every casual glance and touch? For the first time, I realized I wasn’t alone, like maybe she also found herself craving another taste, another brush of her lips against mine.
“And that night?” I swallowed, realizing that every moment with her was a repeat. “In Washington?”
Another bedroom, another near miss. How did we keep ending up in the same place, her face entirely too close to mine. Those lips entirely too tempting.
“That too.” Her voice rasped. “Do you?”
I hesitated, my breath catching on the confession. But if she was being honest, then I could be too.
“I don’t know how to stop thinking about it.”
Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “What if I said I didn’t want you to stop?”
“Then I might ask why I never heard from you after the party,” I murmured. “You left, and then... nothing.”
It felt like an old wound to pick, healed over, but for me, it was still there, my ego still bruised. It got even worse when she ended up on the arm of one of my best friends.
Chloe shifted back slightly, the distance striking. “That is a fair question.”
“You never called. And then every time I saw you after that, you ignored me. And the next thing I know, you’re dating my doubles partner.”
Her cheeks flushed. “A complication.”
“We seem to be stacking those up,” I attempted to joke, but the tension between us was coiled too tight, as if there was no more oxygen in the room.
“I wasn’t in a good headspace that night. I don’t want you to think I regret that kiss. I don’t.” Her voice grew steadier. “I don’t know what your Spanish lover would report, but it was a damn good kiss.”
I chuckled softly. “It was.”
“I was raised to see other players as the enemy, on and off the court. That party? It was the first one I’d ever gone to. I think I even snuck out of the hotel to get there. I was overwhelmed, and then... you walked in. You made me laugh, got me comfortable. And I don’t know, you were just so... beautiful. Maybe I was a little lonely. Selfish too.”
My chest tightened at the memory. I’d hated that I’d hung on to it, but there had been something about it that my mind refused to let go, a grip so tight that it could’ve drawn blood from a stone. “If you could go back and stop it, would you?”
