I laughed into my mug. “He ripped them, Gwen. My favourite pair.”
“Tragic,” she said with zero sympathy. “Worth the loss?”
I leaned back, smiling helplessly. “God, yes.”
She clapped like I’d just passed an exam. “Right. Go shower. You smell like sex and self-discovery. I’ll get Lola up.”
I stood with a stretch, immediately wincing.
“My legs are genuinely sore.”
Gwen snorted. “If I’d known thirty-four came with a second sexual awakening, I’d have kept up my tennis career.”
I grinned to myself as I climbed the stairs, muscles aching, heart full and fragile all at once.
I didn’t know where this was going. Maybe it would all go up in smoke.
But for the first time in a long time, I wanted to find out.
Chapter Fourteen
Jordan
It wasa little after 3:00 p.m. when I finally got through the front door, my shoulders and brain completely done in. I’d just reached my first Wimbledon semi-final. While I should have been ecstatic, and I was to a degree, there was something else that really lit me up.
Kate.
She’d looked so fucking good in my bed when I had to leave this morning. I almost texted Chris to tell him fuck Wimbledon. Didn’t matter how many ice baths they shoved me into or how many questions they threw at me, all day I’d been seeingheron loop. Her legs shaking. My name spilling from her lips. Her nails digging into my back like she couldn’t get close enough. The way she clung to me when she came? Fuck, I could still feel it.
I closed the door with a soft thud and leaned against it, letting my kit bag fall to the floor. I ran a hand over my face. I was still half hard just thinking about her. My body throbbed with the usual post-training aches, but it was her I felt, deep down. Every perfect inch of her, damn it.
I hadn’t even made it to the kitchen when I caught myself adjusting my semi in my shorts. Pathetic.
I started for the bedroom, pulling my shirt off as I walked, butstopped short in the doorway. I just…stared. The bed was made—weird, because I hadn’t made it this morning—but there, laid out on the pillow, was my T-shirt. The one she’d obviously worn when I was out. The one that still smelled like her. And next to it? Her thong…What was left of it, anyway. I’d shredded it last night, completely losing it. Honestly, it never stood a chance. And she’d left it for me. Like a souvenir. A fucking dare.
My cock twitched, hardening all over again, and I dropped to the edge of the bed, raking a hand through my hair. Jesus Christ, I was screwed. Well and truly. And I didn’t even care.
I reached for my phone, and her text was sitting there like it’d been waiting all day:
Kate:
Headed back to Gwen’s. Thanks for the coffee…and the other stuff.
Not leaving your key outside. Too many psychopaths in London.
I’ll leave it with Gwen.
The fuck you will.
I fired back without thinking:
Me
Or you can give it back to me tonight when I pick you up at 7.
The phone sat in my hand, my heart kicking once in my chest. What if she said no? What if that was all last night was…just fun? A one and done?
The screen lit up.
