When Alex surges to her feet, I straighten.
“Fine,” I say, not realizing that I’m essentially blocking her against the back wall of the restaurant.
Her chest nearly bumps mine as she takes a deep breath. I should be furious. I should step back so she can walk out the door and my life, but all I can think about is how Alex has never looked more beautiful. Her cheeks are flushed, there’s mascara smudged below her eyes, her mussed hair is loosely pulled back in a claw clip, and…and all I want is to cradle her head in my palm and kiss her.
What iswrongwith me?
I command myself to move, to back up, to give us both some much-needed space, but my feet remain stubbornly rooted.
“Why?”
It takes me a second to realize the broken question came from my lips.
“Don’t.” Alex closes her eyes as she shakes her head.
With her lashes fanned on her cheeks, I let my gaze take a quick sweeping pass of her features. Then I turn and stride out of the restaurant, straight into the sheeting rain.
It’s nearly impossible to see as I march toward the ocean, but I’m glad for it. I’m grateful for the biting cold and the icy water sluicing down my spine and into my shoes. Anything is better than the hollow sensation between my ribs.
This one time I’d thought I’d done it right. I hadn’t beenToo much. Or rather, I had—in bits and spurts—but Alex seemed to find my personality entertaining…charming, even? She never balked at off-topic conversation, or random gifts, or my constant need to talk to her before and after games.
My teeth grind together as I leave the boardwalk and descend the short cement staircase to the rain-matted sand. I’ve never been on the beach while it’s rained before, which seems like a missed opportunity since my house is only two miles north of here. It’s oddly cleansing, even though the rain is near freezing.
Maybe I’ll walk home. I’d driven to the restaurant because of the pending storm, but I often run the shoreline in the mornings to get the lead out from the previous night’s game. Rhettwill understand, once he sees Alex in our booth, why I’m not there, and I’ll call him once I get back to my house.
Mind made up, I head north.
“What are you doing?” a familiar voice calls over the whipping wind.
I glance over my shoulder, jaw tightening. “I thought you never wanted to talk to me again?”
Alex throws her hands up. “Apparently, I’m a walking contradiction.”
I turn, taking the largest strides I can. Since I’m tall, they eat up the beach. Not surprisingly, Alex easily keeps step.
“‘Date a tall girl,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ they said.”
When I start to jog, so does Alex, keeping a half step behind.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know!”
We jog for a moment before she says, “You seemed…”
I stop, not wanting her to finish that sentence, not wanting her to point out how completely pitiful I am.
Alex wraps herself in her sodden cardigan, her damp hair whipping around her face, the clip long gone. “I’ll still need to interview you occasionally. We need to sort out some kind of professional rapport.”
“Maybe so, but not today.” I stalk farther down the beach, but Alex only follows.
An aggravated growl leaves my lips before I make a swift turn toward the water. It’s heartless, but this is the one place Alex won’t follow me.
“Tenny, wait,” she says, immediately understanding my evasion technique. “Wait. Don’t—”
Forcing myself to ignore the rising panic in her voice, I charge into the thrashing waves.
The water reaches my thighs before I feel Alex’s frozen fingers fisting the back of my sweatshirt. Instantly, I flip around, caging her in my arms so the next wave won’t knock her down.
