“Could be worse,” he admitted, setting the box back down. “Could be Cocoa Puffs.”
She watched him for a moment, then without looking, reached behind her for the same cabinet the cereal came from and pulled down another box of… yup. Cocoa Puffs. “Just for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll skip this time.” He set them beside the Cheerios, then bracketed his hands on either side of her hips on the counter, caging her in. “What’s going on, Kat? Talk to me.”
“Is this you doing the ‘mentoring’ thing?” She put quote fingers around the word, and her tone said exactly what she thought of his mentoring.
Which stung a little because she’d only one day earlier told him he was good at it.
“This is me giving a damn about you and your self-destructive behavior. How about that?”
“I’m a job. Hard to forget.” Her eyes were looking at her hands now, as if she weren’t sure she could meet his gaze. “I let myself forget for a little bit, but that’s why I’m here. I’m here to be fixed.”
Michael forced himself to take a few deep, calming breaths. “Kat, who called you?”
“Hmm?”
“The two phone calls that knocked you flat on your ass. Who called?”
“Oh. Sawyer and my coach from Florida. Peter.” She looked up then, a false smile full of teeth and phoniness plastered on her face. “Apparently, I can’t do anything right. My job is to sit down, shut up, and play tennis until I’m too broken to do it anymore. End of story.”
“Coaches aren’t always right.”
She snorted and looked over his shoulder.
“And agents aren’t always perfect.”
She huffed.
“And sometimes mannies are in it for more than the paycheck.”
“You’re getting paid?” Her eyes widened then.
“No.”
“Oh.” She sighed and leaned back against the cabinet. “They asked me to come back to Florida.”
Michael’s hands went to her hips automatically, clenching around her in possession. “No.”
One side of her lips tipped ever so slightly. “Funny, that’s what I said too.”
The vise that had clenched his lungs released marginally. “Did they insist?”
“Well, funny thing about being twenty-six.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I get to call the shots in a lot of things.”
“And if Sawyer drops you for disobedience?”
“Then I guess I’m on my own.”
“And if your coach drops you?”
“Peter and I were already not seeing eye to eye. Maybe it’s time for a change.”
For some completely unexplainable reason, that lit something up inside him. “A change, huh?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Would this change have anything to do with dry heat and a cat named Benny?”
“Oh, Benny… He was quite the dance partner. The tail could be a problem though.” She chewed on her lip a moment, a guilty flush taking over her face. “I wasn’t trying to be obvious or an attention whore. I was just… I don’t know.” Setting her jaw, she ended with, “He started it.”
“That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it, huh? The mascot started it.”
“Yup.”
“Okay then.”
They were quiet for a moment, breathing in each other’s scent, their nearness.
Kat whispered, “So what now?”
“Now… you come back to my place.” He lifted her down off the counter.
“Because you’re going to yell at me over there?”
“There may be yelling.” He swatted her ass as she walked by him out of the kitchen, and she predictably yelped before laughing. “But it won’t be angry. Not if I’m doing it right.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder that was hard to read but he took as encouragement. Then grabbed her keys from the hook by the door and left the apartment behind him.
Chapter 14
We’re going to have sex. Holy shit, we’re actually going to have sex.
It had never been so… easy before. So matter of fact. Hey, let’s go back to my place and have sex. It was probably her lack of experience talking, but she had no clue this was how it was done.
Michael waited for her to lock her apartment door, then fiddled with his own lock. Calm as you please, no rush, no hurry.
Instantly she realized easy wasn’t what she wanted. It felt cold, like a business transaction. Like something they were just going to scratch off the day’s to-do list.
Grocery shop: check
10,000 steps: check
Have sex with neighbor: check
As Michael’s door swung open, Kat felt her reservations slide up and grip her throat. She croaked out, “Michael, we really don’t—”
“Come on in.” He opened up and slid an arm around her lower back, propelling her into the apartment.