“You can do that?” Spencer looked at the instructor, and he gave a bored nod. She ran her fingers over her harness and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
The instructor finished tethering Colin to the bungee, secured Spencer to the same cord, and the two of them walked to the ledge together. As they counted down, Colin turned to Spencer and touched her cheek. “I don’t know what took me so long, Spencer. Can you forgive me?”
Spencer’s insides shimmered. Instead of saying anything, she grabbed Colin’s hand and squeezed it hard.
And then, together, they jumped into the abyss.
Chapter 14
Table for Two
“Right this way.” A Latina waitress who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall led Spencer and Colin around a grove of palm trees into a private Mediterranean garden at the back of the Mia Vista, one of Longboat Key’s most sought-after dinner spots. Gorgeous purple, blue, and yellow flowers curled around white trellises and a wooden pergola. A beehive-shaped fireplace blazed in the corner, throwing off just the right amount of heat to cut the slight chill in the air, and a jazz band played softly in the corner. They stopped in front of a corner table with a white tablecloth, a glowing white candle, and a glass of champagne at each of their seats—and, of course, a chilled AminoSpa for Colin. In all of Spencer’s fantasies, she’d never thought up a first-date spot dreamier than this.
She settled into her chair, smoothing the brand-new dress she’d bought that afternoon over her lap. Colin sat down opposite her, looking extra-tan in his white Lacoste polo. “This is just so perfect,” Spencer said.
“We couldn’t have picked a better place,” Colin said at the exact same time. They both stopped and laughed.
The waitress returned with their drinks and some menus. Colin sipped his AminoSpa on ice, and then burst into laughter. “Remember how much you hated this on our first date?” He reached across the table and took Spencer’s hand. She could feel herself blushing. So he had counted the tennis game as a date! This whole situation was so surreal. For once, it seemed, she had actually won.
Melissa hadn’t been at the house when Spencer had come home from bungee jumping, nor had Spencer seen her in town. Spencer wasn’t sure what she would have done if she had run into her. She knew she should feel triumphant for stealing Colin away, but part of her kind of felt . . . crappy. It was a lot like how she felt when she’d kissed Ian in her driveway—as psyched as she’d been to hook up with the hottest senior at Rosewood Day, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, even though Melissa was always a royal bitch to her.
But that didn’t change the way she felt for Colin, who was staring at her with longing, his eyes soft, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He half-shrugged, caressing her palm. “Just that you are so gorgeous.”
She felt a shiver run down the length of her spine.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Spencer said, lowering her lashes.
The waitress reappeared and took their orders. When she was gone, Colin sighed. “It sucks you have to go home soon.”
“I know.” Spencer pouted. “But maybe I could come back and visit. How long will you be here?” Her mind churned, conjuring up images of snorkeling and sailing and lemonades on the beach after tennis practice.
“I’m going to be here until February. But the thing is, I’m going to be training a lot,” Colin said, shifting in his seat. “I want to get into some slams this year, remember?”
“Oh, of course.” Spencer sat up straighter. “I would never tear you away from your training. I’d hit balls around with you if you wanted, though you probably want stiffer competition.”
“No, that would actually be awesome.” Colin used his straw to crush a piece of ice at the bottom of his glass. “Who knows? If things go well, maybe you could come with me to some of my matches.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “We could go to Australia together. Roland Garros in France. We could hobnob in New York City at the US Open.”
“I could sit in the special visitors’ box and wave for the ESPN cameras,” Spencer said excitedly.
“You’ll look amazing in the stands,” Colin whispered.
“You’ll look amazing on the court,” Spencer said.
They leaned forward and kissed lightly. Electricity crackled through Spencer’s body.
She sat back. “And if, God forbid, you don’t make it into a slam this year, you’ll be coming back to Connecticut, right? I could always drive up to visit you. Rosewood’s not that far.”
A muscle in Colin’s jaw twitched. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”
“Why?”
He raised one shoulder. “My apartment’s kind of . . .” He trailed off.
“Kind of what?” Embarrassing? Shabby? Or maybe he lived with a creepy uncle or way too many cats.