Page 16 of Boarded Hearts

JON

It’s been four days since Felicity took off down the street from the bar in the SUV I arranged for her and her friend.

It was a foreign feeling leaving on my own. I’d been on my absolute best behavior, only flirting with her here and there, because it quickly became very clear that Felicity isn’t like any other woman I’ve met. Sure, I’ve spent nights with plenty of gorgeous, smart, and self-respecting women, but Felicity? She’s on another level entirely, the complete package, a goddess—from the way she looks to how she carries herself. She’s totally out of my league, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a bit intimidated, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

All I know for sure is I want to be around her; I want to impress her, and I want her to give me a shot at taking her out. When Jemma wrapped herself around me in the bar on Friday night and Felicity turned to leave, I couldn’t unravel myself quickly enough. Jemma is a supermodel and a handful in bed—every guy’s dream. But she nearly wrecked my chance with Felicity, and that thought alone left me regretting my past playboy behaviors even more.

We’ve been on an away series in New Orleans for three days now. Last night we secured our third win of the season, taking the game five to two. I played okay but there’s no doubting my mind has been elsewhere, trying to figure out how to see her again. Right now, I should be throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt, ready to head out with my team to sink a few beers. Instead, I’m lying on my hotel bed, staring at Felicity’s number on my phone. I haven’t contacted her yet, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been desperate to. It seems crazy to miss someone I’ve only spent a handful of hours with, but that doesn’t stop the feeling, and I want to talk with her.

So, without thinking any more about it, I click on her contact and type out a message.

Me

Hope your week is going good.

Keeping it simple, I set my phone down on the nightstand and reach for the TV remote, hoping she doesn’t keep me hanging. A few minutes later, my phone lights up, and I imagine it’s a bit like the look on my face—because it’s her.

Angel

Hey, yeah, all good here in Seattle. Work’s busy, but I’m heading to the gym to blow off some steam. Saw your game last night, played well :)

She watched my game, even when it wasn’t at home; does that mean she’s been thinking about me? At the thought, a shot of excitement thrums through my body.

Gym, eh? Perhaps we should bench press together sometime ;)

I can’t help a little flirtation and almost immediately a reply comes through.

Ha! Yeah, bench pressing isn’t my forte, I’m more of a spin class and yoga girl myself.

Interesting. I decide to take it up a notch.

Spinning? I do that as part of my conditioning. I have a full home gym, the works. Maybe you could come check it out sometime, and we could see who’s got the superior stamina?

It takes several minutes to receive a reply, so I’m fucking relieved when I see her contact flash up on my screen.

Are you asking me to be your gym buddy, Mr. Morgan?

You bet I am.

Well, I see no harm in that.

Fucking hell, I’m hard just at the thought of Felicity in her workout gear.

My fingers fly over the keyboard as I hurriedly type out a response.

Is this a date?

I’m back in Seattle late Thursday. What about Friday?

Or the minute the plane wheels touch the ground.

I realize this is the first time I’ve invited a girl over to my place; it’s rule number one in my need to stay private. But when it comes to Felicity, I’ve torn out the page and set it alight. I want to show her my life, show her all of me, and goddammit, I need to know more about her too.

FELICITY

This week has been full-on. Mark has wanted me in every client meeting he’s taken on top of my everyday responsibilities, and I am a whole new level of exhausted. At least Darcy has settled well in Oxford. My phone is filled with pictures of her and her friends all making up for lost time. I knew it was the right decision for her and honestly, seeing her happy at least takes off some of the mum guilt that racks through me daily.

I’m due over at Jon’s in an hour. For a spin class. I can’t believe I said yes to him. Being alone in a man’s home without properly getting to know him, and then there’s the fact I’m going to willingly reduce myself to a sweaty mess right in front of him. Why did I agree to this? Oh yes, because I have no self-control and have apparently lost my mind.

---