Kate:
Don’t you have a rather important thing to do tomorrow? One that requires zero distractions?
I grinned, feeling cocky now. I could practically see her biting her lip, trying not to smile.
Me:
I’m already distracted. May as well be with the real thing.
It was the truth. I hadn’t been able to get my head on straight all day. Could still feel her under me. Still taste her. Could still see her spread out in the sheets like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.
She replied after a pause.
Kate:
Smooth, Taylor. Real smooth. Only if you’re sure?
Only if I’m sure?Like she still couldn’t believe I wanted her. Like she was bracing for the letdown.
I didn’t even hesitate.
Me:
Never been more sure. Text me Gwen’s address.
I sat there, staring at the text, my thumb hovering as if the message held some hidden meaning. Maybe it did. I didn’t really know her yet. But fuck, it felt like I did. I stood up and walked to the shower, hoping the cold water would shock me out of it. No luck. Still hard, still thinking about her. Not just how she said my name, but how she'd nestled into me afterward, as if she belonged. As if she wanted to. The best part was seeing her again tonight. This time, I wasn’t letting her go.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate
I stoodin the hallway mirror, tilting my head to check my reflection while fiddling with the halter top. I wanted the neckline to be just revealing enough, without being too obvious. Honestly, what was I even thinking? My chest was practically on display, ready for action. I ran a hand through my blonde hair, hoping to create that effortless, sexy vibe. Instead, I probably looked like someone who'd just spent the afternoon playing Barbies and baking with a six-year-old. Which, let's be honest, I had.
I was about to have dinner with a six-foot-two Australian tennis player who was handsome as sin, and smelled of fresh laundry and poor choices. Casual. This wasn't my usual style, not even remotely. But maybe that was the whole idea. My comfort zone hadn't exactly been successful recently, had it? I’d tried the awful dating apps, endured the awkward friend-of-a-friend dates, and smiled through the polite conversations, letting guys walk me home without letting them in. It was all so safe, so predictable, so…empty.
“Dear God.” Gwen’s voice floated from the kitchen. I turned and saw her, tea towel on her shoulder, leaning against the doorframe. She was staring at me like I was some kind of disaster she couldn't help but watch.
“No need to ask where you and that cleavage are going.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Let me live.”
“Oh, I am. But I’m also living vicariously. Through you. And your pro tennis shaggathon.”
“Gwen!” My face flamed, but I laughed anyway.
She grinned, completely unrepentant. But then, because she was Gwen, her expression softened.
“Nah, I’m happy for you, mate. Like, properly happy. You deserve a bit of…fun. I just don’t want you getting blindsided. Like I said this morning, don’t go handing your heart over too easily.”
I looked down, smoothing a hand over my top. “I know. Honestly, I thought thiswasjust a bit of fun. And…maybe it still is. But there’s something about him.”
Something I hadn’t expected. He felt safe and genuine. And the way he looked at me like he understood me. Really sawme.Not in that sleazy,here’s what I want to do to youkind of way. But in that rare, quiet way that made something deep inside me ache.
Gwen just watched, not saying a word, with that big-sister vibe that made me feel both protected and on the verge of tears. She’d seen me at my worst. The day my marriage imploded. The same day the IVF plans crashed and burned when I found him with her after coming home from my first round of injections.
She’d packed my boxes, poured the wine, and wiped my tears as I cried against her shoulder. She’d seen me broken, and she’d shown up. So here I was, all made-up, and giggly, and full of nerves. Something she hadn’t seen from me in over a decade. I could feel how much this meant to her. Hell, I knew how much it meant to me. A knock at the door broke the spell, and we both looked over. Gwen got there first, flinging it open without a shred of subtlety.
And there he was.
