She didn’t pause what she was doing, but I saw the tick in her jaw, the barest hesitation.
“Nope,” she said finally. “Still not interested.”
I smiled anyway. “Still not buying it.”
Her hands stilled. Our eyes met, and for a split second I swear I could see every gear turning behind hers. Heat rose through my body from where her palm rested to where her gaze held mine.
Then she cleared her throat, stepped back fast. “All done. Try not to undo it between now and tomorrow.” She handed me asheet. “Do these before bed and first thing in the morning. I’ll be courtside if anything goes wrong.”
I sat up, tugged my shoes on, body still humming. “Thanks, Orla. I mean it.”
She nodded, already reaching for the sanitizer. As she did her eyes flicked sideways to the coffee cup I’d brought and I swear I saw the faintest smile color her lips. As though nobody had ever thought to ever bring her anything like this and that it meant something. That was all the win I needed for today.
I didn’t push. Just gave her one last grin and slipped out.
But walking down the hallway, I could still feel her hand on my thigh. Still hear that sweet syrupy accent that had me in a God-damn chokehold. Right then, I knew I was completely, irreversibly fucked.
Chapter 9
Orla
The restaurant was already buzzingwhen I pushed through the cloud of people smoking outside. The sound of Italian music hummed through old speakers as waiters weaved between tables with plates of carbonara and chianti. Soho always seemed to smell faintly of garlic and wet pavement, and tonight was no different. I spotted them both as Gwen gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke, nearly taking out the passing waiter and Kate leant back in her chair, laughing so hard she had to cover her mouth, her enormous engagement ring catching the light. It was nice to be out and away from the smell of medicated oils and racket-slinging egos.
“Please tell me one of you already ordered a bottle?” I asked, sliding into the velvet seat, not even bothering to open the wine list.
“Are we celebrating something or drowning our sorrows?” Kate laughed, already reaching for her menu.
“Numbing the day,” I muttered rolling my eyes.
Gwen raised her empty glass. “Cheers to that.”
We all tried to meet up for dinner whenever Kate was around, so we’d booked a last-minute dinner at a cosy Italiantucked between a trendy bar and a nail salon. Dim lights, candles on the tables and a sprawling marble floor that looked like a death trap after one too many glasses of bubbles.My stomach growled as the smell of herbs and toasted focaccia hit me; I hadn’t eaten since inhaling a protein bar at eleven-thirty.
It was Kate’s first night out with us since baby Noah’s dramatic Rome debut, and she looked annoyingly flawless for someone who’d literally just pushed out a whole human being. These two had become solid fixtures in my life over the last few years. Gwen through work, Kate through extension and honestly, they were a lifeline. They were both hilarious, non-judgemental and the kind of women who knew when to take the piss out of you and when to hold your hand.
“Rough day?” Gwen asked, catching Kate’s eye with a smirk.
“Something like that,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Would that have anything to do with a certain Californian, Hemsworth-lookalike tennis stud?” Gwen said.
Kate’s head snapped toward me so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given herself whiplash. “Wait…what? Why don’t I know about this?”
“Oh my God,” I muttered. “Gwen, shut up. It’s nothing. She’s just being annoying.”
Gwen grinned. “Orla’s been landed with Tyler Reed on her caseload. He keeps asking her out.”
Kate nearly spat out her water. “No way. He’s gorgeous, Orl. A bit of a hothead, though. Jordan reckons if the draw holds, it’ll be him and Reed in the semis.”
I sighed leaning back into my chair. “Yes, he’s hot. But also a walking HR violation. He’s got a string of girls on every continent. No thanks. I’ve already been warned.”
Gwen giggled. “All I’m saying is, if you’re ever in the mood for some no-strings fun…I think he could be your guy.”
“For fuck’s sake, Gwen. I don’t sleep with flirty racket boys.”
“That’s what I said,” Kate chimed in, raising her eyebrows in a perfect imitation of her old self, and they both burst out laughing.
“Yeah, but you found a good one,” I countered, grinning despite myself. “This one’s probably shagged his way through the entire ATP ranking.”
