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“Maybe,” Sam said, her tone throaty and a minx-like tilt to her smile that I liked a little too much.
“Okay, longest relationship?” I asked, greedy for any information about what Sam had been up to all these years.
“Three years.” She tapped her finger against her glass. “Mia Stone, a total hottie go-getter who was so out of my league it was ridiculous.”
Envy flared in my chest. Probably her age and successful as hell, a lawyer or a doctor or some shit. Someone with way more to offer than me, who’d skipped out on college to head into fights. Someone with tons of experience instead of being twenty-one and only a few relationships deep.
“I find that hard to believe,” I said instead.
Sam shook her head, her ponytail swinging behind her. This close, I couldn’t help but notice the low neckline of the Flyers shirt, exposing a hint of cleavage and strong collarbones I wanted to lick. “Ex-fighter who couldn’t even last her first season turned trainer? I’m not anyone’s idea of a catch. Mia was top of her class in med school, so when she got a residency across the country, she didn’t hesitate to call us quits.”
I pointed a finger at her. “By that analysis, you’re saying I’m no catch either.”
Sam frowned. “Well, that’s a lot of horseshit.”
I shrugged. “You can’t be sure, though, can you?”
Sam fixed me with a pointed stare, one with enough intent that a shiver rolled through me. “It’s only been a few days of getting to know the adult you, and I can tell you’re the same level of determined you were as a kid. That you’ve got more raw talent in your pinky than most fighters out there. And genuine confidence like yours, the bounce-back attitude is rarer than you’d believe.”
Holy fuck. This woman was going to make me cry.
After Allie dismissing me and Chaz fucking me over, I had doubted myself in a big way, but that endorsement not just from my first crush but from my new trainer? Goddamn. Warmth spread through me, and I clutched to the ephemeral feeling like the sun peeking out after a week of rain.
“If I’m going to believe that, you need to agree you’re more than an ex-fighter turned trainer,” I challenged her. “You’ve got the calm demeanor and keen eye to teach. Not everyone possesses those skills.”
She licked her lips, making them glisten. The woman probably tasted like sin.
“Are you trying to coerce me into believing in myself, Amelia Johnson?” Sam arched an eyebrow. Shit, she looked far too pretty tonight. I tried not to swoon, but it was hard when she stared at me with her serious gaze.
I cracked a grin, all teeth. “You betcha.”
Slowly her lips curled into a genuine smile, the first I’d seen from her in over a decade. Her brown eyes lit up, and her features transformed into something breathtaking, something I wanted to slip into my pocket just for me.
“You haven’t changed in the slightest,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, I’ve changed a bit.” I thrust my chest forward, batting my lashes.
“You’re not wrong there.” The sensual way she purred that out had me soaring.
Because the woman I thought I’d forever lost my chance with was actually seeing me, and there was no way I could pass her up.
Even if it meant lying to my best friend.
Chapter Six
Sam
After the way Ames had crash-landed into my life and seemed to be planted there, I needed to talk to someone.
My therapist had told me these were moments I should share with people I trusted, close friends I’d built, which had taken years to do. Nothing like having your parents kick you out for being a lesbian to slaughter your ability to get close to people.
And when I’d tried to contact Nina, she’d told me she knew my secret and that she didn’t want to have anything to do with me either. Yeah, that had pretty much disintegrated my foundation.
I walked to Bump and Grind, my favorite coffee shop, only a few blocks from my apartment. One thing had plagued me since Ames and I had spent the entire night at the Lucky Penny a few days ago. She and Nina seemed as close as they always had been, but she was an out lesbian.
Which didn’t stack up with the way Nina had pushed me out.
Anytime my brain circled around to it, I got more tangled up, but that paled in comparison to the brew of lust and confusion regarding Ames. My client. My baby sister’s best friend. Yet I hadn’t gotten up and left at the bar. No, instead, I’d flirted with her, and we’d talked about everything from mistakes in past relationships to the movies we loathed. She was allowed to be wrong with her terrible opinion that Avengers was bad.
