Page 72 of Regards, Mia

“Likewise,” I say. “It’s not every day I shake hands with an Olympic athlete.”

“Why did you retire?” Daniel asks.

Tension knots in my gut. “It was time for a change.”

“You should have kept fighting,” Daniel says. “A lot of fans were disappointed.”

“Leave him alone, Danny,” Amy says. “You should understand how much pressure it is to be an athlete.”

Daniel looks chagrined. “Sorry, dude.”

“No worries.”

We say goodnight to Daniel and Amy, chat with a few more relatives, and then I finally get Mia in the hotel.

When we are alone in the elevator, Mia pokes me in the chest. “You’re famous.” She pokes me again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I grab her finger before she bruises my chest. “I’m not famous.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” she says, plucking at the top button of my shirt.

“Not everyone.” I slip my arm around her waist as she wobbles on her heels. “Only those who paid attention to boxing a decade ago. I’m old news, ShortCake.”

Her lips twitch into a smile. “That nickname is growing on me.”

“Maybe we can keep it when we get back home?” I want to keep the name and a lot more.

She slides her hands into my hair. “Okay.”

I bend my head to kiss her, but the elevator stops before our lips can touch, and I come to my senses. It wouldn’t be smart to kiss her now, it would lead to more, and she’s tipsy.

Tightening my arm around her waist, I lead her out of the elevator and into the hall.

“Key?” I hold out my hand for her room key.

Mia leans against the wall for balance as she fumbles in her purse for the key. When she finds it, she tries to fit it in the slot, but her hand doesn’t cooperate. I take the key from her and open the door.

Mia giggles and pulls me inside. Sober Mia would never giggle, but it’s very cute.

“My room has a horrible view,” she says, tugging me toward the balcony. “Want to see it?”

“Not particularly.”

Whirling out of my arms, she nearly stumbles on her way tothe mini-bar. “I bet your room doesn't have one of these.” She yanks open a cabinet revealing several rows of tiny bottles.

“All the rooms have mini-bars.” I grab her hand before she can pluck one of the bottles off the shelf. “I think we've reached the limit on booze.”

She licks her bottom lip, and I watch the tip of her tongue trace the fullness.

Damn, she’s tempting.

She wiggles out of my grasp and grabs a bottle of tequila, brandishing it like a trophy.

“Don't open that.” I reach for a bottle of water instead. “Have some of this. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Mia sets the bottle of tequila down on the dresser with a thunk. “You’re right.” She taps her finger to her forehead. “So smart.” She takes a step, and I grab her before she can trip. Another giggle bubbles up from her throat. “And strong.” She squeezes my bicep in appreciation. “And talented.”

“Thank you.” I can’t hold back a smile. She’s such a cute drunk. “You’re all those things, too.”

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