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

by Ashley R. King

  “Hey,” he mouthed to her, trying to keep his cool. But damn, it was hard to have any type of swagger when he’d just made it to the US Open finals and Amalie was here, the one person who meant more to him than anyone in the entire world.

  He watched as she laughed, as it reached all the way up to those unusually bright, gray eyes. “Hey,” she mouthed back. Then she shooed him to the net, her eyes still sparkling.

  As he walked to the net for the customary handshake, which was indicative of your respect for your opponent, although Julian had none for Schaaf, he felt like he was walking on freaking air. Then he noticed that Schaaf wasn’t at the net. Nah, Schaaf had already packed up his bag, and all Julian was left with was the sight of his opponent walking off the court to a chorus of boos.

  The child in him wanted to call out something asinine, but he kept himself in check as he waited for Charles Avery to approach for the on-court interview.

  Julian’s mind was a jumble of excitement and flashes of images, his body vibrating like a damn livewire ready to pop and explode. He wanted nothing more than to run to Amalie, to apologize for being the world’s biggest dick, but he knew he had to play the media game first, even though it’d been slowly siphoning his soul these last few days. Those personal questions hurt, and even though Paul said it was best to be transparent with the press, there were some lines Julian thought shouldn’t be crossed, some questions that he would never answer.

  Thankfully Charles never stooped to that level. A former tennis player himself, he had kept it all about tennis, and thank God for that.

  Charles motioned to the crowd and then swung his attention back to Julian. “First of all, congratulations are in order.”

  Julian tried to be humble, bow his head, all the things he should’ve been the first time around. “Thanks, Charles.”

  “So, Julian, what do you think about the lack of handshake after the match? You know that’s pretty uncommon.”

  Uncommon was an understatement, but Julian figured if he was married to Nadine he’d be pretty miserable, too. Poor asshole. He shook his head. “I don’t waste my thoughts on people who don’t matter.”

  Charles gave him a nod and followed up by asking, “What are your thoughts as you head into the finals?”

  That was so surreal. Finals. Julian pretty much doubted himself the entire way until this very moment. It was surreal to think that one drunken declaration to a beautiful stranger could be the reason he was standing here on the blue asphalt of Arthur Ashe Court.

  He ran a hand through his sweaty hair as he responded. “Honestly, I can’t think beyond the fact that I’m talking to Charles Avery after the semifinals of the US Open.” The crowd laughed.

  Charles even fought back a grin before he asked, “What do you do between now and the final? How do you prepare for Javier Rodriguez?”

  With a shrug, Julian jokingly answered, “I reckon my coach and I should be asking you. We weren’t supposed to make it this far.”

  As Julian walked off court after his interview, he didn’t feel like Cinderella anymore. He felt like he belonged.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Amalie

  “What is that evil…woman doing here?” Charlotte hissed.

  Amalie turned to see who prompted Charlotte’s wrath. Ah, Nadine. Beautiful, perfect Nadine with her waves of honey-colored hair, her pale skin and pale eyes, her humongous boobs nearly spilling out of her designer top. Instead of consoling her husband after his loss, she’d chosen to creep around backstage at Julian’s press conference. As a matter of fact, she’d positioned herself so that she would be the first thing Julian saw as he stepped out of the long hallway leading from the locker room.

  Amalie’s hackles rose as she watched Nadine take out a tube of lipstick, carefully apply it, and then fluff her hair. Anger and jealousy sliced through her as she contemplated walking over and cursing the woman out. It made her hug the blazer she’d shed tighter to her chest—but she wasn’t a slob in her sexy lace tank that she’d bought just for this occasion.

  Then Julian emerged, thick hair still wet from the shower, and her mind instantly went to the gutter, imagining that water sliding down those chiseled abs she knew he was rocking.

  Seeing him up close again felt like being on the highest point of a roller coaster. Her heart pounded frantically, both terrified and excited at the same time. What would she say to him? Would he go to Nadine? She twisted her hands together, hating the feeling of uncertainty.

  The security official herding Julian to the stage moved through the crowd with ease, letting everyone know there was no time to stop and chat, that they had to get on with the press conference since the match ran later than expected.

  “Juli!” Nadine called out in a nasally, run-your-nails-across-a-chalkboard voice.

  Amalie and Charlotte both winced. Amalie’s nails bit into her palms when she saw dread overtake his features. Paul was right behind him, and the look Paul shot the woman could’ve turned her stone.

  “Juli, it’s me!”

  Juli? Not once had Amalie ever heard anyone call him that. Is that what she screamed out when…

  Nope, don’t go there, don’t even think about it.

  Julian shook his head and kept walking, his eyes searching. Was he…could it be that he was looking for her?

  “That’s my boy.” Charlotte playfully bumped Amalie’s arm.

  Amalie’s heart skipped at the snub. He’d literally given Nadine the cold shoulder and instead was definitely looking for her. How did she know? Because as soon as his beautiful green eyes landed on her, his entire countenance changed. His shoulders straightened and his smile grew bigger and more carefree than she’d ever seen it. He nearly ran over the security official in his attempt to get to her.

  Just as he reached for her, the cockblock, er, guard, said, “We have to keep moving, sir.”

  “Amalie, we need to talk. Wait for me?” Julian asked in that husky voice of his.

  It took everything she had to suppress a shiver at the glorious sound, the sound that she never thought would be directed her way again.

  “Of course.” Amalie nodded.

  Julian didn’t realize that all he had to do was ask and she’d give him anything he wanted.

  He inched around the guard and squeezed her hand in promise, electricity sparking through her arm as he did, and then he was ushered onto the platform.

  Unable to help herself, Amalie’s eyes darted to Nadine who stood openmouthed and fuming. Realizing that she’d been seen, the woman turned and made a run for it.

  “That’s right, run, honey,” Charlotte taunted, causing Paul to choke on a laugh.

  Amalie quickly turned back to Julian, who was settling in. His back was straight, his entire face lit with pure joy. If his dad could see him now, he’d be so proud.

  Noticing where Amalie’s attention had strayed, Charlotte was all smiles. “He’s been doing so well with these conferences, hasn’t he? Honestly, with the mouth on that boy I thought for sure he’d just flub it.” She then shrugged almost as if to say, “What can you do?”

  Just as Amalie opened her mouth to respond, the first question was asked.

  “So, Julian, what is Amalie Warner, Warner heiress, doing in your box?”

  Amalie’s mouth fell open as she blinked slowly, her eyes trained on Julian. She felt both Charlotte and Paul’s stares, but she ignored them. She didn’t know why she was surprised that someone had noticed her. No, what had her hanging on, waiting with bated breath, was his response.

  Julian looked visibly stunned for a split second, but he recovered quickly, his expression softening. What that look did to her ovaries was downright sinful.

  “Amalie?” he asked, her name, those three syllables, a caress across her skin.

  She drew her hand up to her face, covering her mouth. God, what was he going to say?

  “Frankly I wouldn’t be here without her. She believed in me from day one, and she’s more than an heiress. She’
s an amazing woman and a brilliant writer.” Butterflies in her stomach tumbled over themselves making her dizzy. Now that she hadn’t expected.

  Everything else fell away as Julian turned toward her, smiling that lopsided grin she loved so much. Loved. Loved. Loved.

  She had to tell him, didn’t she? Or did he already know? A poker face was never her strong suit, especially when her resting face was à la serial killer.

  “So, you’re not dating her?” the reporter continued, obviously unsatisfied with his answer.

  Julian’s lips tipped even higher as he slowly turned back to answer. “Not yet. I plan to talk to her about that as soon as we wrap this up, so can we get a move on?”

  Chuckles erupted around the room as Julian kicked back on his chair, looking at her again and winking. Flirt.

  “Well, I called that,” Charlotte said with a knowing grin.

  “Betcha I called it first,” Paul added.

  “How about we all just chill a minute?” Amalie held up her hands, her face on fire.

  Thankfully, Julian wrapped up the conference and headed toward them with all the swagger and arrogance Amalie had grown to love.

  As she stood watching him, that beautiful soft look on the hard angles of his face, the more difficult it became not to think about what she wanted from Julian. After this was over, win or lose, she wanted him in her life.

  Time stood still, her heart and soul free-falling through oblivion with that admission. The possibility of them together was no longer a fantasy. It was real.

  Pure joy trickled through her entire being, and then anything and everything she’d thought to say incinerated with one glance at Julian, because his gaze was primal. Her first instinct was to shrink back, that’s how strong it was.

  His muscles bunched like a lion ready to pounce, and then in one, two, three long strides, his arms were wrapped around her in an embrace, her feet literally floating off the ground, her blazer shoved off to Charlotte.

  “Stardust,” he said breathlessly, and her insides ignited and danced.

  “Missed me, did you?” she joked as she squeezed him back, reveling in the muscled cord of his arms, inhaling his cologne, committing every bit of their encounter to memory.

  “You have no idea,” he whispered, giving her one more solid squeeze before slowly releasing her, her body brushing against every single part of his, chest to chest, liquid heat pooling in her belly, making her breathless at the intimate contact.

  A tremor rocked through Julian’s body, proving he was just as affected. She was the one who caused him to tremble like that, and it made her feel invincible.

  There was so much she wanted to say, so much they needed to discuss, but it fell away as she allowed her fingers to play with the damp curls at his neck. Moving her mouth to his ear, she said, “I always knew you could do it.”

  Julian pulled away, just enough to see her face, and the edge of his lips quirked up. “We have a lot to talk about. You’re coming back to the hotel with me.” Then that smile melted away, replaced by a look that threatened to completely unravel her. His finger slid up to her shoulder beneath the strap of her tank top, teasing the skin there. Goosebumps followed in the wake of his touch.

  “Oh, is that right?” Amalie teased, cocking her hip, in an attempt to play off how overwhelmed she was by this man.

  He bit down on his lip, and damn it all to hell, it was the hottest thing she’d ever witnessed. She wanted to suggest they get out of there right freaking now, but by some miracle she didn’t say a word.

  Paul’s throat clearing totally killed the vibe she and Julian had going on.

  “Yes, Paul?” She turned to find him with his arms crossed over his chest, amusement plastered across his features.

  “Don’t even, Coach,” Julian said with humor in his voice.

  Paul held up his hands defensively. “Look. You two go celebrate tonight, but my rules remain the same. I’m not gonna lay them out here in front of your mother, though.”

  Charlotte raised her hands in the air, her floral kimono fluttering. “And thank the Lord for that.” Amalie tried not to melt into a puddle of humiliation, while Paul, completely undeterred, grabbed Julian’s shoulder and kept talking.

  “Go have fun,” he said. “Tomorrow is a big day, and after training with Austin and all the press junkets, you’ll be completely sequestered from everyone. Tonight’s it before the final, so enjoy yourselves, but not too much. Got it, kids?”

  “Damn, I think we got it two minutes ago,” Julian said as he wrapped an arm around Amalie’s waist. His touch seared her skin through her shirt, making her mind slip back to what felt like ages ago when they were at Simone’s party. Back then this was all just a fevered dream, and now it was their reality. “And with that, we’re out. Good night.” Julian tipped his head toward Paul and then kissed his mom on the cheek.

  After a chorus of goodbyes, Amalie and Julian were led out back and ushered into an idling Mercedes.

  “Feeling like Roger Federer now, huh?” Amalie teased, her nerves all over the place. Julian’s leg was pressed against hers, the air crackling with awareness.

  Julian said nothing as he studied her, taking her hand in his. “Amalie,” he said softly. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  She took a deep breath and turned toward him. There were things she had to say, had to get out even though the anger had long since evaporated once she’d realized exactly why she was so hurt by him.

  “You were a real asshole to me, to even think that I would ever go behind your back on anything, to think that I’d hurt you like that.” The pain she’d pushed down for weeks laced her every word.

  Julian’s face crumpled, his hands moving up her arms and across her shoulders until they buried in her hair, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones. He looked haunted as he leaned his forehead against hers.

  Her heart raced, completely at odds with the words she’d spoken. Even after all this time he still made her feel like a teenager in the throes of first love.

  “I was the biggest asshole,” he said. “And I…I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to call, to apologize, but I worried that I’d lost you forever, and the possibility that you’d tell me we didn’t stand a chance was worse than anything, so I just…waited and hoped and prayed that we’d find our way back to each other.” He inhaled and looked her in the eye, his expression pained. “Can you ever forgive me? I know it was you who had your dad remove the patches, and knowing that gave me reason to hope.”

  Amalie’s heart filled to nearly breaking. “And you talked to my dad and reminded him he had a heart. I guess you could say we’re even.”

  Julian shook his head. “We’re in no way even. I’ve got a lot of groveling and making up to do, and I plan on starting tonight.”

  Shivers danced along Amalie’s spine as a response struggled to find purchase on her tongue. As if on cue, the car rolled to a stop in front of none other than the Warner Hotel. “I thought we were going back to your hotel?” Major disappointment settled in her belly.

  Julian cocked his head. “I’m staying here. Didn’t your dad tell you? He put us up here for the tournament.”

  Of course, he did. Thanks, Dad.

  “Wild coincidence. I’m staying in the penthouse.” Amalie held out a hand as they stepped from the car. “Wait. That totally sounded like a little rich girl thing to say, but I’m only saying it because I’m too broke to stay anywhere else.” She laughed nervously.

  “No penthouse for you tonight, I’m afraid,” Julian said with a wink as he laced his fingers through hers. “Let’s go, Stardust.”

  The trip to Julian’s room was perfectly awkward, her body humming with anticipation of what lay ahead. She was fully aware that Paul had rules, but her body cried out that rules were meant to be broken.

  Thankfully the elevator was quick, and Julian shot her a sexy grin as they stepped out. There were no inappropriate quips, which had Amalie’s legs shaking even more.

  Julian
opened the door to his room, and the sound of it clicking shut echoed around them, locking them away in their own little world.

  “So…” Amalie began, her heart about to take flight as she found her courage. “About Paul’s rule… How serious are you about sticking to it?”

  Julian quirked a brow, his expression dangerous. “Not serious at all. I’ll be damned if I waste this night.”

  With that alluring swagger, he prowled toward her and threaded his hands into her hair, thumbs tracing her cheekbones, his eyes so dilated they were mostly black. Amalie fisted his shirt, pulling him closer, his body completely flush with hers.

  That was the consent he needed. Without wasting another second, his mouth slanted over hers, swallowing her pent-up sigh as her knees threatened to give way.

  Julian let out a groan, and she tugged his hair at the nape of his neck, desperate to take the kiss deeper, wanting more. Another groan, and then his hands were sliding down her ass to her thighs and hoisting her up, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Their kiss, so desperate and impatient, was a far cry from sweet now.

  It was a race to see who could devour the other first as Julian carried her to the bed, falling down over her and propping up on his strong forearms. Every touch ignited a fire on her skin, and she knew when this was over, she would be completely consumed.

  “Amalie.” His voice was rough as he released her mouth, taking a quick pull at her lip before raining kisses down her throat. He hovered at her collarbone, licking and nipping as his fingers toyed with the strap of her tank.

  Her breath came out in pants as she sat up and tugged off her shirt.

  “Holy shit,” Julian croaked, his stare sliding over every curve of her body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Suddenly, her phone rang, the sound momentarily jarring them from their lust-filled haze.