Page 23 of Worth Every Game

Jack? What’s he doing here?Nerves tingle through me, making my knees weak.So much for my symbolic moving on moment.

“Kate’s at Nico’s,” I blurt.

He pauses. “I’m here to see you. Let me up.”Oh.Butterflies burst to life in my stomach. His disembodied voice sounds way hotter than I’ve ever noticed before, probably because his face is so distracting. And damn it, my heart is pounding at the demanding tone of it.

“Good morning to you too,” I reprimand, trying my best to sound like him turning up here is no big deal, and that it might even be a tad inconvenient rather than the most exciting thing that could have happened.

I press the button to let him in, and his footsteps pound up the stairs. A wave of panic seizes me. I’m not ready to see him, not after the intensity of that moment in the dark after the race last night.Shit. My insides roil at the thought of it, almost as though I might throw up. I cannot be in the same room as him. Maybe I can fold myself into a kitchen cupboard or lock myself in the bathroom.

But I’m not quick enough. The door flies open, and Jack stands there in his cashmere overcoat, irritation scrawled over his handsome face, my sheepskin coat draped over his forearm.

His gaze snags on me, dipping right to the toes of my cowboy boots, and my breath stutters. After a beat, he lurches into motion again, unhooking my coat—my favourite coat—from his arm and handing it to me.

“Oh. Thanks.” My voice sounds weak as I take it. I clear my throat and add, “I was about to start mourning for it.”

Mourning for it?I cringe.Shut up, Elly.

A muscle flickering in Jack’s jaw is the only acknowledgment of my joke. “I picked everyone’s coats up from the track this morning. It doesn’t smell like smoke.” He nods at my coat. “Itstill smells…” His words trail off, and his focus shifts from me to the middle distance.Oh, crap. He thinks my coat stinks.He must notice my grimace because he collects himself and adds, “Like you. It smells like you.”

Like me? Is that good or bad?He’s been here thirty seconds and he has me second-guessing myself already. “Okay, well—”

Before I can finish, he pulls a thick wad of papers out of an interior pocket of his coat and throws them onto the kitchen table.

“There’s asbestos in the roof and it’s suspected in the external pipework. Maybe in the flue of that blocked-up fireplace.” He drags a hand through his hair. “You’re going to have to move out.”

Asbestos? Is that dangerous?“You’re kicking me out?”

“No,” Jack insists. “I’m making sure you don’t die from asbestos poisoning when we tear the roof down. It’s going to be a pain to rectify, but I’ve got to do it if I want to renovate this place. Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t stay.”

My body is buzzing, and I can’t tell if it’s Jack being near, or the panicked thoughts racing through my mind.Where the hell am I meant to go?What if I need to pay more rent somewhere else? I’m already stretched to the limit to pay the rent here.

“How long do I have?”

“We need to make it happen yesterday,” Jack states, and somehow, through the fog of panic, it occurs to me that this might be what he’s like in the office. All bossy and demanding.Is it hot? Am I finding this attractive?

Yes.

But then the panic takes hold for real, and my heart is thumping, anxiety threading through my veins as Jack rants about Kate moving in with Nico, building schedules, a buyer in the spring, and the deal falling through if he can’t finish the work on time, and I can’t follow everything he’s saying.

“Where am I supposed to go?” I whimper. “Aren’t you supposed to give me notice about this? You can’t throw me out.”

He stalks from one side of the kitchen to the other, impatience steaming off him. “I’m notthrowingyou out. I was walking home last night, and I thought of you in this shitty flat, and…” He breaks off and stands still, breathing a little heavily, one hand resting on his hip. “I wouldn’t want to live here, and the idea of you being here alone most of the time now that Kate’s with Nico… it just didn’t sit right. And this morning I opened the report, and thought, ‘fuck it, let’s expedite this’. Let’s get you out of here.” He aborts his monologue, frowning as if catching himself doing something he doesn’t want to.

“That still sounds like you’re throwing me out,” I mutter.

His eyes shut for a beat. “Do you have friends you can live with? Family?”

Family?There’s no way I’m going back to my parents’ place with my tail between my legs. They already think I’m a lost cause. Nearly thirty and only just scraping by.

But wait, hecan’tthrow me out. “As the landlord, it’s your legal responsibility to house me elsewhere for the duration of my lease.”

He braces, casting an assessing look over me as I stand in the middle of the kitchen, obviously freaking out, and his own harassed demeanour cools, like he knows he has to calm this situation down before I disintegrate. “I’m not going to leave you high and dry. We can work this out. Sit down.” At his command, I sink into the nearest chair. “I’ll make you tea.”

Oh, phew. He’s not going to abandon me.“Thank you.”

He starts banging around, getting out mugs, filling the kettle and turning it on. He comes to sit opposite me as it boils, and his concerned gaze meets my own. Is there a hint of last night’s heat there? Even if there isn’t, I can feel it.I’m suddenly as hot as the water in that damn kettle.

“I could live with Kate and Nico,” I say, more to distract him from the sheen of sweat that’s pearling on my forehead than anything else. Their relationship is new, and I don’t want to intrude on their first weeks as a couple sharing a home. They’ll probably want to be alone so they can have amazing sex in every room.Ugh. I might be the teensiest bit jealous.

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