Painting the Lines: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Ace of Hearts Book 1)

by Ashley R. King

  They all crawled into the van, Paul taking one of the middle solo seats. Amalie moved to the bench seat in the back, thinking Julian would probably take the other solo seat, but nope. Instead, he ducked in after her, his big body making the back seat suddenly seem very small and cramped. His entire right side pressed against Amalie. Each time their knees bumped, it sent a frenzied spark to her stomach, waking the slumbering butterflies.

  After a few minutes of silence, Julian turned to her, placing a gentle calloused hand on her knee as though it belonged there. And maybe it did. It felt amazing. An anchor. A tether.

  Comfort.

  “This can be the last time we discuss it,” he said, “but I want you to know that I read every single page you emailed me. I thought your pages were magic, that you’re magic, and I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t sit back and let you give up, knowing the amount of talent you have. There are other ways we can get the book out there, but please, please don’t give up. For me.”

  Words that were on the tip of her tongue melted away. It was hard to say or do anything because Julian’s hand, his perfect hand, was still on her knee, on her bare skin, and his thumb was rubbing lazy circles back and forth, causing her nerve endings to stir. Then…then there was the fact of what he’d just said. Her pages were magic. He believed in her. How long had it been since someone actually really and truly believed in her besides Ro?

  His words wrapped around her like an embrace, and in a moment of absolute bravery, she placed her hand atop Julian’s and squeezed, ignoring her fluttering heart, the want settling low in her belly, the unabashed longing racing through her veins. “We’ll see, but Julian? This is about you. We’re here in New York for you, and before things get too hectic, I want you to know that I’m going to be right by your side the entire way, no matter what happens with my writing. I don’t know if I’ve ever believed in anything more than I believe in you—I’ve never doubted you.” Julian gave her a pointed look, and she quickly added, “Aside from when I found you mumbling incoherent garbage at the bar back in January?” She hoped he could see in her gaze all that she couldn’t say. She needed him to know how deeply she believed in him so that he could believe in himself.

  His forehead wrinkled with a slight shake of his head as he turned toward the window. He looked so boyish and uncertain. “I can’t believe we actually made it this far. It’s weird, but I feel like we might jinx it if we discuss it, so you want to talk about something else?”

  “Yes, please do before you two make me vomit on my brand-new polo,” Paul groused while watching the hustle and bustle of the city go by.

  Amalie laughed. One thing was for certain, this trip wouldn’t be dull, not by a long shot.

  When they arrived at the hotel, Paul checked in first and then disappeared to find his room. Amalie felt strange checking into a hotel that wasn’t a Warner Hotel, but she didn’t want anything to do with her father. That thought alone caused her to stand up a little straighter as she stepped up to the counter.

  The receptionist gave her a friendly smile. “Welcome to New York City. Name please?”

  “Thanks. It’s Amalie Warner.” Julian shifted at her side, his gaze taking in the city through the lobby windows.

  The woman’s brows furrowed as her typing on the keyboard sounded more panicked. “Warner, correct?” she asked, her voice thin.

  Amalie’s heart rate picked up as dread filled her veins. She’d been around the hotel business enough to recognize the look on the woman’s face. “Is there a problem?” She made sure her voice was polite—it wasn’t this person’s fault if what she feared had actually happened.

  The woman stopped typing and looked up apologetically just as Julian leaned in closer, suddenly one hundred percent invested in this conversation. “Actually, it looks like we’ve overbooked and somehow your reservation got lost in the shuffle. With the tennis qualifiers and several conventions going on right now, every major hotel is full.”

  Amalie brought her hand to her temple wondering what in the hell she was going to do when Julian stepped even closer. He tapped on the counter and then shot the woman one of his smiles. “Hi. My name is Julian Smoke. Is my reservation still in the computer?”

  The woman looked down at her screen and relief shuddered through her as she answered, “Yes, thank goodness.”

  “Then she’ll,” he hooked a thumb at Amalie, whose stomach just pitched to her knees, “stay with me. Will that work, Amalie? We don’t have to tell Paul. He’ll pitch a fit.”

  “I can always try to find something else, like a private rental, and pray they don’t have bed bugs,” she said to Julian, but he shook his head.

  “Last minute in New York?” He nudged her with a playful look in his eyes. “Besides, I think you might be my good luck charm. I’d kinda like to keep you close.”

  Trying to act unaffected, she smiled, her stomach flip-flopping like mad. “All right. That would be great, thanks.”

  As Julian finished checking in, all Amalie could think was at least she’d prepared for this situation. She couldn’t see where sharing a room with Julian wouldn’t lead to some type of sexy adventure.

  Needless to say, the trek to the room was quiet and somewhat awkward, at least on her end.

  “Didn’t think I’d get you alone in a room so soon.” Julian shot her a wolfish grin as he leaned forward, brushing her shoulder with his chest.

  Amalie rolled her eyes, even if the words settled deep in her veins, causing a pleasant little shiver to dance along her spine. Julian scanned their room key, then held the door open for her.

  Her nerves were overwrought as she stepped inside with the man who’d dominated her daydreams for the past seven months. And good God, some of those dreams… They woke her in the middle of the night in a sweat with the sheets twisted. Those dreams alone made her body chaotic with need; what would an actual touch from Julian do to her?

  Annihilate her. Most definitely. If a steamy phone call or Valentine’s Day kiss on the cheek could make her feel so alive, so turned on…

  Focus on the room, Amalie. Just focus on the room. As she tried to do that, she noticed their room had been decorated in mostly white with touches of beige here and there. It smelled like lemon Lysol, which at least let her know it was clean. She immediately made her way to the windows, doing the awkward slide thing with the blinds and then looking at their view of an alleyway behind the hotel.

  Sunlight streamed onto the bed.

  Wait. The bed. Bed. Singular.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. Julian was cracking jokes as he fought with getting his tennis bag and other luggage through the door and hadn’t realized she’d fallen silent.

  Once he threw his stuff onto the petri dish—er, the hotel room carpet—he met her stare as she fought to appear calm and collected. “You look like you’re up to no good,” he teased, his voice gruff.

  Amalie looked at the bed. “There’s one bed and two of us.”

  Julian smirked, and it wasn’t his usual kind—this was a dangerous, predatory thing that threatened to eat her right up. And the messed-up thing? She wanted to be eaten. Yep.

  “Is that a problem, Stardust? You afraid to share a bed with me?”

  Playing it cool, she lifted her chin. “You should be afraid. I toss and turn and flop around like a fish. You won’t get any rest.”

  Julian took another step closer, a slight swagger in his hips. “Is that so? Maybe I don’t want any rest.”

  Her heart tripped over itself at the images that conjured. “Julian.” She poked his chest, his hand reaching out to encompass hers, holding it there against his heart. “This is serious. I want you to win.” She left out the part about how she wanted him in general.

  Sobering, Julian squeezed her hand. “I’ll be plenty rested, so no need to worry. The bed has plenty of space for both of us, and if you toss and turn into me, I’ll just nudge you back to your side.”

  Amalie nodded. She was a grown-ass woma
n who could share a bed with a man she had a crush on. Wasn’t she?

  “Yeah, sure. That works for me. Thank you again for letting me share your room.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  With that, Julian kissed her knuckles and started unpacking his stuff. With the way Amalie’s heart stuttered at the feel of his lips, she knew she’d made the right decision.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Julian

  Julian felt content as he walked down Broadway with Amalie next to him, every once in a while, her body twisting into his, or his hand going to the small of her back as they navigated the crowds. They’d just had dinner with Paul at Bond 45 near Times Square but left him waiting for a lady friend as they headed toward the theatre district. The heat of the day had subsided, so it was actually pleasant to be out on the streets.

  Amalie’s fingers brushed his forearm, drawing his attention from the lights and the sounds of the city at night. “Hey, there’s one thing I haven’t talked to you about, and it’s something I really want to know, and I feel like if I don’t ask it now, I’ll combust.”

  Julian scratched his eyebrow, lips curving. “Okay, shoot.”

  “What happened with Nadine?”

  All of the air left his lungs as his body tensed. He turned to look at Amalie, who’d shoved her hands in the pockets of her black sundress, her attention on her feet as they strolled.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said. “Ignore that. It’s just…I’m curious about her, you know? She seemed to be your last serious girlfriend, fiancée, or whatever, or am I wrong? Did I not put all of the pieces together correctly?”

  “No, you’re right. Nadine…Nadine and I were a mess. I was desperate for her and proposed to her two and a half months in, when everything started falling apart. Definitely not my brightest idea.”

  She pursed her lips and then with a nod threaded her arm through his in a movement that appeared as natural as breathing. People were laughing in the night air, car horns were honking, trains were clattering along the tracks, but all he could see was Amalie.

  He forged ahead. “Nadine was the one to leave me, even though it should’ve been the other way around. She actually justified having an affair with another tennis player. Can you believe that?”

  Amalie gasped. “What?"

  Julian nodded slowly. “According to her, it was my fault she slept with someone else, said I didn’t make time to actually engage with her. She ended up marrying the guy, an up and coming German player, Lorentz Schaaf. That wasn’t the only reason she cheated on me though. I sucked on the court, and she thought that was an embarrassment,” Julian admitted as he picked at invisible lint on his shirt.

  “But she knew you had a schedule to keep, that you were an athlete. If she really loved you…”

  Julian shrugged. “I don’t think she really loved me.”

  Amalie drew them to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, just outside the Richard Rogers theater, drawing a few comments and glares. Julian watched as she swallowed and studied her freshly painted nails before asking, “Do you still love her? Or miss her?”

  He moved them away from the chaotic crowd and lines beneath the lit awning. “God, no.” He paused then, taking her in. “Wow. Amalie Warner. I’d swear I see jealousy on that beautiful face of yours.” A hopeful spark moved through him at the thought.

  She shook her head as they started walking again, the hotel just in sight. “Of course not,” she answered, her words tinged with a sardonic, disbelieving edge. She even went the extra mile to scrunch up her face like the idea was preposterous.

  Julian cocked his head to the side, studying her, hoping she felt the intensity of his gaze because suddenly things between them felt like they were nearing combustion…or maybe it was just him? Either way, she shifted her eyes away from him, but he saw a ghost of a smile on her face as her fingers tightened on his bicep.

  They kept conversation light as they made their way back to the room, but that underlying current of tension had only thickened. Julian fumbled with the key card a few times before it finally swiped green. Once inside, he swore the room had shrunk in size.

  Just as he took a step forward, Amalie stopped in her tracks, causing Julian to bump right into her ass. His hands steadied her by latching onto her waist, which put them in a really tantalizing position. “You good?” he asked against her hair, letting her go even though he didn’t want to.

  After a heartbeat, she spun around, face pink. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you were right there… I was just going to, ah, get something out of my suitcase.”

  Julian raised a brow. Her suitcase was by the bed, in the opposite direction. It was like as soon as they stepped inside the room they’d forgotten how to act around each other. They were alone and there was one bed and they’d had all this undeniable sexual tension brimming between them for months. Tonight it would either boil over or somehow manage to simmer. He wasn’t betting on the latter.

  “It’s cool. I’m going to, ah…” Julian looked around the room and perked up. “Grab a book and read, maybe? Or watch SportsCenter? Or maybe a cold shower.” Anything to calm himself and dim the thoughts of what he wanted to do with Amalie. To Amalie.

  They moved at exactly the same time, bumping into each other again. Amalie’s hand accidentally brushed against Julian’s cock which was doing its damnedest to be half-hard, causing her to jump back. “God, sorry. I—”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Just trying to feel me up. I got it.”

  Amalie brought her hands to her cheeks. “I swear I wasn’t. But hey, how about you go take that shower? Give us each some time to…” Her words trailed off, but he knew exactly what she meant.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’m a little sweaty anyway.” He didn’t waste any time gathering his stuff and heading to the bathroom. As soon as the door clicked shut, he took his first deep breath since they’d made it back to the room.

  He stepped in the shower, the cool water running over his body. A single door was all that separated them now, unlike the distance between them when they shared that one, mind-blowing phone call.

  He placed his hand flat against the shower wall as water poured over his face, imagining Amalie as he had that night. His breath came fast and he grew hard, a temptation, but he didn’t want to be spent should things escalate tonight, and he prayed they did.

  He’d noticed that her nails were done, and he’d smiled when he caught sight of the little yellow tennis balls on two of them. She also wasn’t normally a dress girl, but she’d busted one out tonight. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t have to do anything extra to get his attention—she’d been bringing that A-game ever since he met her.

  He towel-dried his hair but decided to leave it damp and to forego a shirt. After a quick perusal of his reflection, he knew Amalie wouldn’t miss the abs that had fully come in, his hips dipping into a V he’d thought he might never see again. He was counting on her eyes following that trail to the icing on the cake—he was still half-hard, and he wore his white tennis shorts, the exact pair Amalie had admitted she loved. It was an obvious effort, but he tamped down any expression as he swaggered out of the bathroom.

  Amalie was bent over her duffle, gathering things to her chest, and he couldn’t help but scan the view. Damn. Her legs always looked fantastic, but they looked extra smooth and a little sun kissed. Something about the way she stood on her toes had his eyes drifting upward to the curve of her ass…

  He grabbed Pete Sampras’ A Champion’s Mind from his bag and made his way to the bed. Just as she turned around, an article of clothing dropped from her arms onto the edge of the duffle. A black thong that had his mind conjuring all sorts of dirty thoughts.

  “Bathroom’s all yours,” he said.

  “Oh,” she gasped, looking up. “Ohhh.”

  Yeah, she was totally soaking him in, and as he moved to tuck in with his book, he caught her glancing at his ass a few times. And he loved it. Love
d knowing that—if that look on her face was any indication—she wanted him.

  Amalie’s mouth hung half-open, her eyes dark with lust as her gaze skated over his shirtless chest before dipping down, down, down. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

  Julian cleared his throat, trying very hard not to let the satisfaction filling him translate to his face. “Eyes up here, Stardust.”

  She blinked once, twice, and then, with a reddened face, turned back to pick up the panties she dropped. She was seriously adorable when she blushed.

  “You’re going to give me a complex.” He settled into the bed, careful to make sure the sheets didn’t hide what Amalie had been checking out. “I was really hoping you’d like me naked.”

  No woman had ever captured his attention the way Amalie did. Damn if she didn’t make him jittery, make him feel like he was about to step foot on the tennis court. He loved the spark in her gray eyes when he pushed the boundaries, the way desire consumed her irises, darkening them to ash.

  “You’re ridiculous.” Amalie rolled her eyes and pretended to be aggravated, but she wore a half-smile that quivered at the corner. “I’m just gonna…gonna…go.” She pointed toward the bathroom, stretching go into three syllables that sounded more like a question. She didn’t even give him time to nod or make a comment before he heard the door shut.

  As soon as the shower cut on, his focus was completely shot. He re-read the same page ten times while trying not to imagine Amalie’s body all wet and slick. What was going to go down once she got out of that shower? Was he finally going to make his move? He couldn’t quite read her one hundred percent, and earlier she was nervous about sharing the room. He released a shuddering breath and decided all he could do was wait.

  After what felt like forever, the shower shut off. Amalie came out, her hair wet and curly, but that’s not what held his attention. Hot damn. The woman was dangerous in those black pajamas. Her bottoms were short, showing off the curves of her thighs and causing Julian’s imagination to run wild with what was hidden under that silky fabric. Her tank top dipped into a V, showing off her cleavage. But that wasn’t the only thing on display. Her hardened nipples shone like little pearls beneath the material.