Page 38 of Behind the Net

“It’s settled then.” He clips her harness on before straightening up. “Thanks for a fun morning, Pippa,” he murmurs.

It’ssettled?

At whatever my expression is, his mouth slides into that sexy smirk again.

“Bye,” he says, stepping out the door.

I stand there for a long moment, replaying his slow smirk, the press of his hand on my lower back.

He wants a song, but every time I think about picking up my guitar, my stomach churns with worry and hesitation.

Yes, you can, he said, and he sounded so certain. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can. I lean against the door, blowing out a long breath.

CHAPTER19

JAMIE

A few days later,I’m standing in my kitchen in my boxers, staring out the window. It’s midnight, and the kitchen’s dim, only lit by the city lights.

I can’t sleep.

I’ve barely seen her all week. When I get home, she heads to her room or leaves to meet Hazel. I pour a glass of water and down half of it, thinking about the charge of electricity between us on Sunday afternoon. I wanted to kiss her so fucking badly.

I still do.

“Fuck,” I mutter before draining the glass.

The fear in her eyes when I asked her to play a song for me made me sick. Her ex fucked with her head, and now she can’t do the thing she loves.

I want more for her. I don’t want her to live with this fear. I want her to crush it and feel proud. Pippa’s strong—I saw it when she helped my mom with her panic attack.

I rub the bridge of my nose. I wantmorefor her? I’m no one to her. She works for me. She doesn’t remember me. A twinge of guilt gets me in the gut. Maybe telling her to play for me was over the line.

There’s a noise behind me, and Pippa’s standing in the dim kitchen, looking just as surprised as I am.

She’s wearing pajamas, a silky mint green shorts set. The shorts are short, and her legs are long and smooth. Her hair is messy, like she’s been tossing and turning, and I don’t know why I like that idea so much. When my gaze snags on her top, lust surges in my blood.

Her nipples are peaked. Oh, fuck. My teeth grit, and it takes all my willpower to drag my gaze up.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says with a nervous smile.

I nod. “Me, neither.”

She moves past me and turns the kettle on before pulling her favorite tea out of the cupboard. Decaf vanilla chai. The wrappers are always in the garbage; she must drink a ton of that stuff.

“You’ve been avoiding me this week,” I say, and her hands falter as she rips the bag open.

“Um.” She blinks at the counter. “No, I haven’t.”

I stare at her, and finally, her gaze flicks to mine. A smile ghosts over her face and she laughs a little.

“Okay.” She sighs with a guilty wince. “I have.”

“Mhm.” I lean on the counter, and her gaze lingers on my abs.

Is it appropriate for me to be standing in front of her in my underwear? Probably not.

Do I care? I watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, tracing my abs with her gaze.

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