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“Thank you,” I mumbled, holding in my smile. No one else had mentioned anything, which was fine. They were eighteen and I was thirty, but even Logan hadn’t noticed, which he shouldn’t anyway, but we had lived together for five years.
“Why the sudden change?” he asked, passing the volleyball court and the game room. Why ask for a tour if he wasn’t going to see anything?
“Um, I had it planned for a few weeks, just wanted a summer cut I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders pointlessly. He still walked ahead of me, obviously not having been truthful about his desire for a tour.
We walked past the pool door and the locker rooms before Ryan turned on me so fast I almost fell backward.
“Liar,” he accused with a laugh as he shoved his shoulder into the wall.
“I’m not…” I started, fumbling for words.
“You always used to shrug your shoulders like that when you lied.” Aqua eyes searched my face, landing on my nose and then my mouth.
And he always called me on it.
“So, why the change?” he pressed.
Why did he care? I should have changed the subject, asked about Henna.
“Shay is trying to set me up on a date. I’ve canceled a few times because I hadn’t had a chance to get to the salon or do any waxing…you know.”Did the word WAXING just leave my mouth?My face flushed as I pleaded with Jesus to take me home.
“So…you’re single then?” Ryan turned away from me, heading toward the tennis courts, the courts we weren’t technically allowed to enter because of the match going on.
“Uhhh…yeah, I am,” I replied, hating the fire that had caught in my chest.
“Interesting,” he softly murmured, still walking toward the closed door.
As he swung it open, a neon green ball bounced over the closest net while the elderly couple dove to hit it with their rackets.
“We shouldn’t be in here right now—the members hate it when we come in while they’re playing.” I tried to whisper as Ryan walked around the edge of the court, toward the back wall. There was a massive heavy artificial wall made of a heavy rubber tarp material, creating a drape over the brick. Who was I kidding? These people would likely beg to have celebrity Ryan Prince interrupt them.
Ryan ducked behind the long wall mat. “Why this curtain thing?” he asked, trailing down the darkened wall, where we were hidden from everyone in the room.
“It helps keep the wall in shape when the balls bounce against it, and it’s easier to grab them—they don’t bounce all over the place when they hit the rubber,” I explained, following after him.
The sounds of the room echoed around us while we secretly walked through the dim space, my heart jackhammering in an unnatural rhythm while I continued to watch those muscles shift under his t-shirt.
“Can I ask you something?” Ryan asked, just above a whisper.
I had to lean closer to hear him. “What?”
He spun, his strong hand clamping down on my waist and spinning me toward the wall. Pressing my body into the brick, he leaned close to my ear, his lips skimming the sensitive skin there.
“You owe me a conversation.”
He waited; seconds passed as the sounds of the room wrapped around us. It was on the tip of my tongue to utter back that what he’d said wasn’t a question, but I bit my tongue instead.
“Ten years too late, but I’m still expecting you to open those pretty pink lips and share with the class why it is you left. I don’t care about this bullshit tour, so why don’t we cut to the chase where you agree to get coffee with me.” His firm grip was bruising on my hip, but it was my legs that felt shaky.
I closed my eyes, wishing so badly that I didn’t love the feel of him against me, or that familiar spicy smell he’d always had tickling my nose.
“Okay,” I whispered, keeping my eyes lowered.
There was no way I’d tip my face up to look into those aqua orbs, no way I’d allow my lips to be anywhere close to his.
Finally, he stepped back, letting me go, and then he was pulling his phone out of his back pocket.
“Put your number in,” he demanded, his voice catching just the slightest bit.
