by Nana Malone
Amy’s dark eyes rounded as she handed Tami a mug of cocoa. “Wait, I need to get this straight. You kissed Bryce, Mr.-I’m-a-tennis-and-kissing-god. At work? Where anybody could have seen you.”
Yeah… When Amy put it like that, she sounded crazy. “Yes, not just that, but like really kissed him. Like almost-ripping-his-clothes-off kissed him. It was supposed to show him that I wasn’t interested.”
Her friend snorted inelegantly and pursed her lips. “That was how you were going to show him you didn’t want him? But you do.”
“That’s hardly the point.” Tami groaned.
“So…you didn't like kissing him?”
Tami opened her mouth to tell her friend the lie, but instead the truth tripped out. “I did. I just—” She sighed. “It was like being in total freefall. Spinning, with my skin on fire.”
Her friend arched a delicate eyebrow. “Work, though. That’s…that’s just nuts. You know those assholes will make you cray. I can almost see Karen’s face going pea green with envy. Those guys are going to give you so much shit right now.”
“No, they won’t, because Jim caught us, so I'm probably fired. Awesome right?”
“Motherfucker. He’s just a spineless asswipe, who’s never had anyone rock his world.”
“Yeah, well, that’s where my life is.”
Amy patted her on her knee. “Honey, I’m sorry I wasn’t there today. I could have helped, or something.”
“Thanks anyway, but it’s my own fault. He just gets under my skin. All it takes is one look from him, and I’m mush. It’s so dangerous, and now it’s messing with my life. I just need to stay away.”
Amy shrugged. “Or bone him.”
A giggle escaped Tami’s lips before she could choke it back. “No. Not going to happen.”
“I don’t get you. Why not? He’s charming, good looking, and he wants to get to know you. And whether you want to or not, you like him. Look, I know Michael dicked you over, but that was a long time ago. I’ve never even seen you date. And we’ve been friends for nearly two years.”
Tami smoothed her hair away from her face. “I date.” She lied smoothly.
“No. You don’t.” Her friend sighed. “You know, you’ve never really talked about him,” Amy shook her head. “I mean you gave me the high level, but I don't know much.”
“Because I barely recovered from that. Right after my dad died, I met him. He was everything Bryce is. Rich. Good-looking, though Bryce is in a different class. And he promised me my dream on a platter. He was a tennis pro. One of those guys who had all the answers. I thought I could get my dream back.”
“What happened?”
“After six months, when I was caught up and in love, or so I thought, I found out he was engaged.”
“Oh, honey…”
“And that dream of him helping out my tennis career, it was never going to happen. No sponsors ever saw me. No dream ever happened. No knight in shining armor.” Even as her heart pinched, she swallowed the pain. “So, I’m not exactly believing in the Bryce Coulters of the world.”
“I mean, here’s the thing. Bryce isn’t him. I've told you that.”
“I know that. I just can’t go there again.”
“So what are you going to do about him?”
The same thing she always did. “Focus on saving to get back to school, which means a new job—pronto. Nose to the grindstone. There are no such things as fairytales.”
“And you don’t want anything from Bryce?”
“Nothing.” Even as she swallowed the lie, she tried to squelch the flare of longing in her heart.
An hour later, Tami stepped into the pizza shop, an artificial smile plastered onto her face. “Hey, Vinny.” The last thing she needed was to spend money on take-out, but after the day she’d had, she needed a little bit of comfort food.
“Whoa,” he said when he took a good look at her. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”
“You could say that,” she told him. “But rough would be an understatement.”
“Is it the kind of thing the meat-lover’s special can fix?”
“I doubt it, but worth a shot,” she coughed.
From behind her, someone called out, “Tami?”
Bryce.
She froze, her skin tightening.
Vinny shot her an apologetic look, and she glared at him before turning to Bryce. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, I came to apologize about earlier and to let you know that I talked to Jim and it's okay. He's not going to overreact.”
He’d done that for her? “Uh…thank you.”
“I’m sorry. None of that was your fault. I just… We got…carried away."
She had no words. Instead, she fought not to touch him.
“Your racket… I have it in my car. I can give it to you. I just don’t trust you to still be here when I get back, otherwise.”
She tilted her head. He had a point. “Bryce—”
“I know what you said earlier, and I promise to leave you alone, if that’s what you really want, but please…please, take the racket,” he pressed.
Once again, his sincerity struck a chord in her and she reluctantly followed.
“I’m sorry about…earlier.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what happened.”
“I… That was…” Hot. Soul shattering. Did she mention hot? Tami’s voice trailed off. “I can’t breathe around you. I need air.” Turning on her heel she stalked out.
He followed her. “I’m not going to apologize for enjoying it,” he muttered. “And I really do just want to spend time with you. When I’m with you…” He shook his head. “I don’t feel as claustrophobic. I can breathe. I— I just want a chance to get to know you.”
She shook her head. “Why? We’re not the same. I mean, you’re freaking Bryce Coulter. You have your family, your connections and you’ll eventually have your career again.” She threw up her arms reeling from the wave of emotions. “I’m just me and I have no idea what you’re doing with me or why you’re trying so hard with me.”
His piercing blue gaze searched hers. “I like you. I’m not sure why, but just you, is good for me. When I’m with you, there’s a part of me feels like I’m not entirely alone. I see the talent in you. I see someone who needs to play. I see someone who maybe gets me. It’s certainly not something I’m seeing at home right now.” He shook his head. “They don't get me. And everything they try to do or say to help me, just makes me feel fucking worse. It’s not that way with you.”
Tami sank down onto the curb. She was tired of fighting. Tired of running. When she spoke, she couldn’t muster more than a soft murmur. “It’s hard watching someone you love go through anything painful. Illness and injury might be the worst. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to help, but wanting to with everything you’ve got… It’s torture,” she whispered. “When I lost my mother, my life was over. I couldn’t cope.”
Bryce stood for a long moment. Then hobbled down next to her. “I feel like I’m letting them down,” he said quietly. “I know what my parents have always wanted for me, and I was so close, and yeah, it’s disappointing… but seeing them worry about me like this… as if I’ll fall apart, if I can’t get back to where I was.”
“Are you afraid of what will happen to you if you can’t get back?”
Bryce sighed. “I’m afraid they’ll keep trying to take care of me—that my dad will want me to join him at Legacy, and…I can’t stand that kind of business environment.”
She snorted. “You don’t know the half.” She could feel his gaze on her for a long moment.
“How long has she been gone?” Bryce asked her quietly.
“Four years, two months, eleven days.” People said that it got easier with time. People fucking lied.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded her thanks. She stood, then helped him up.
“So why Legacy?”
“Necessity.” She took a deep bre
ath, and continued. “My mom got sick when I was in high school, and it took up all kinds of time and money from me and my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, and I don’t regret any of it for a minute. But after she passed, there were all the medical bills that needed to be paid, and my dad had used up all the sick time and vacation time he had pretty fast, but he wouldn’t leave her alone… So he quit his job, and getting a new one after she was gone was…harder than he expected.
“I had to get a part-time job while I was still in high school to help out, and when I graduated, well, it was just easier to keep at it—go on full time—than try to find something else. It wasn't like I could take classes or anything—everything that had been set aside for that was gone by then. And then, two years ago, my dad was killed in a car accident.”
“Damn. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Tami nodded blindly. “It was quick.” Her voice was quieter and thicker than she intended, but she pressed on. “He wasn’t the same after Mom was gone—not that he would have wanted to leave me on my own, but he needed her. It helps knowing they’re together. But after he was gone, there was no way I could hold on to the house and keep paying off the medical bills left from mom—that’s another consolation about how he went—not just that he wasn’t aware it was even happening but that he didn’t linger…he didn’t suffer…and there were only the funeral expenses to deal with.”
“Are you still—?”
She shook her head. “I was able to sell my parents’ house and pay off just about everything. I found myself an apartment. It’s small, but I don’t need much. And that’s…kind of it,” she concluded. “You wanted to get to know me? That’s my story.”
“Except for the tennis part,” Bryce pointed out gently. “I’m guessing that took a backseat when your mom got sick?”
“Nothing was more important to me than spending time with her.” He didn’t need to know how much it hurt.
“Did she enjoy watching you play?”
“When she could, yeah. She drove me to practices and cheered me on when I had matches.” It was time to change the subject. She didn’t want to pick at the wounds any longer. “So where’s your car?” Tami finally asked, looking around.
He pointed to the BMW in the lot.
“How about we go get a real dinner?”
She bit her lip before answering. “Look. Bryce?” She flushed as she thought of his hands on her. “Earlier…that was—”
“Intense?” He offered helpfully.
“Yeah. Let’s go with that.” She sighed. “I’m just not looking for anything. I have things I need to do with my life and I can’t afford a...” her voice trailed.
“Distraction?”
“Yes. A distraction. You seem nice and true to your word, but I’m not one of those girls looking for a guy to come rescue me from my life.”
He swallowed even as his gaze burned into hers. “So you didn't feel that earlier?”
She swallowed even as she tried to lie to herself. “It’s not about that. I know what I need and someone like you isn’t going to be good for me.”
He exhaled a long breath. “Look. You already said, I’m true to my word. You don't want to be with me, fine, we’ll be friends. We could hang out and maybe play together sometimes. I just know I’m mentally awake for the first time in months and I don't want to lose that. So I’ll take what I can get. I mean, you can keep your hands off of me right?”
And therein lies the problem. She wasn’t sure she could. “So you’re good with friends.”
“Yep. You just tell me when you want my body too much and we can reassess.”
She snorted a laugh. Problem was, he was right. But she knew how this would end and she needed to protect herself. She couldn’t go there with him. “Yeah, you can hold your breath in the mean time.”
He grinned. “Okay, I’ll do that. So, how about some real food. My treat. To celebrate our new friendship.”
She had a feeling she was going to regret this. But she didn’t want to say no. “There’s a little place another block away,” she told him. “They never have a wait.”
“You’re on.”
Eleven
Friends. Bryce could do friends. How hard could it be? Except he had zero experience doing the friends thing with someone he wanted this much. He could try something new. Except every time he caught a whiff of her shampoo, or she turned her sunny smile to him, his gut clenched.
The key to his mental and emotional survival was not to think of how she tasted, and the way her body had molded against his, melting into him like warm chocolate. Nope, he wasn’t going to think of that at all.
He certainly wasn’t going to think of all the sounds she made in the back of her throat. The same kinds of sounds she’d make during sex when she was in the throes and racing toward release.
Nope, under no circumstances would he think about that. Because he would only be torturing himself. And he was in enough pain as it was. He told himself to relax for the millionth time. It was impossible to die from blue balls, wasn’t it?
He needed her. He hadn’t been bullshitting when he’d told her about his emotional state with her. He wasn’t giving that up just because he wanted her. He could do this.
With a glance at the DVD movie he’d brought over, he scowled. At any other girl’s place, he’d be there to Netflix and chill, the movie playing in background acting as background noise for an epic make out session.
His mind took him back to the day at Legacy sports a week ago. Jesus, had it only been a week? Kissing her had been like strapping himself to a live wire. Her tongue sliding over his, dancing with his. Teasing—
He muttered a curse and tugged at his jeans to make room for his growing erection. Stay cool. Do not blow this. He was her friend. And right now, she was sort of his lifeline, so he wasn’t going to mess this up. He could be her friend.
Bryce pulled up to Tami’s place, and peered up at the old building. The structure itself was… well, standing, at least. The owners didn’t appear to have a cleaning service maintaining the entryway or halls—or if they did, it was a terrible service. There seemed to be a handyman of some sort, employed to keep things from falling apart and to do so as cheaply as possible—cost over aesthetics.
She opened her door with a smile. “Hey.”
Oh, hell. He swallowed hard. Be her friend. You can do this. “Hey yourself. So I brought over the latest superhero movie. I think this works within the rules.” She was pretty adamant about what they did when they hung out together. She wanted to be able to pay her own way.
“Yes, a movie works. Come on in.” She stepped aside. “This is it. Home, sweet home.”
Inside Tami’s apartment was sparse, but less bleak. She had a small TV on an entertainment center, with a DVD player hooked up and sitting on the floor. The sofa was faded and worn—stuffing peeked through in a few threadbare patches—but it looked comfortable enough. There was a single end table where the remote rested next to a heavy lamp. A clunky bookcase stuffed with personal mementos, books, mail, an old trophy from her early tennis days, and other miscellaneous bits, sat in the corner.
While he washed up, she ordered pizza. “It’ll be here in twenty minutes,” she said.
Half an hour later, Tami sat on the couch, folding her slice of pizza over while Bryce’s grew cold on the end table.
“So, what were you saying? That your coach called you?”
“Yeah. He’s pushing me a little. But therapy is going well, and I’ll be able to do more soon.” He paused for a moment. “Care to be the first to put me through my paces on the court when the time comes?” He aimed for playfulness in his tone but couldn’t quite suppress the need. He wanted her help. She was the only one he trusted.
In truth, his coach had called several times, already. There was no pressure, the guy insisted, but most of his fellow competitors were getting ready for the Australian open. And everybody wanted to know: Was he going to be able to play again? Bryce wanted to
figure that out on his own, first, before he had to see that disappointed look on everyone’s face.
“I’d be honored,” Tami replied with a smile.
Was she resisting the same urges he was? Or could she feel his growing need? Maybe she was also struggling with how to keep the distance between them comfortable without offending him.
The television program went to commercials, and something broke between them.
“Are you done with that?” Tami asked as she rose, pointing at his plate.
“I’m still working on it,” he replied.
“No problem,” she said, disappearing into the kitchen.
When she was back, he had the movie all queued and ready.
“Great,” Tami said with a yawn as she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I hope I can stay awake through this. Pulling double shifts is getting to me.”
Damn. Bryce wanted to spend more time with her. “Do you want me to go? We can do this another time,” he offered. He could be the good guy.
“No way.” She pulled a throw blanket up so that it covered her shoulders. “We're hanging out. Next time, let’s do this on my day off.”
“Next time?” he asked, trying hard not to smile.
Tami rolled her eyes. “Yeah, there’ll be a next time. As long as you promise not to do anything ridiculous, like buying me a new DVD player or a flat-screen TV.”
“Deal. But if this gets old…” he waved a hand at her TV set where the film’s opening credits had begun—the color saturation was off so that all the reds tended a little towards the purple end of the spectrum. “If this gets to be too much, you agree to come watch something at my place.”
She was quiet, so Bryce pushed a little harder. “Deal? Come on. It’s something that friends do, right? Take turns playing host?”
She licked her lips. “Deal. Now shut up so I can hear what they’re saying,” she scolded, turning the volume up with the remote.
Twelve
Jesus Christ, Tami’s skin was so damn soft. It was Bryce’s favorite dream. Tami, rubbing her hands along his arms and back while he pressed her into the cushions of the couch, her breasts hard against his chest.