Page 7

Chapter 7: Luke

T he hot water pounds against my shoulders as I try to clear my head. This morning's interaction with Avery plays on repeat.

"Keep it professional," I mutter, adjusting the temperature colder. Professional. Right. Like I haven't been thinking about Miami for the past year. Like I haven't memorized every detail.

The sponsorship deals are lining up. The press is eating up our story. Everything's going according to plan. Except for the way my body responds to her presence. The way I can't stop thinking about her.

I shut off the water, grabbing a towel. This is business. A strategic play to advance both our careers. Nothing more, but when I step into my bedroom and find Avery in the doorway, all strategies fly out the window.

She's dressed in fitted workout gear; hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. It's her eyes that stop me cold. They have a hunger that matches my own. Her practice today must have not worked out the frustration from this morning.

"Jenkins." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "Something you need?"

She doesn't answer immediately, gaze trailing over my chest, following a water droplet as it runs down my torso.

"We should talk about this," she says finally.

"About what?"

"This." She gestures between us. "Whatever's happening here."

I take a step closer, noting how her breath catches. "Nothing's happening here. We're keeping things professional, remember?"

"Is that what you want?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with possibility. I study her face. The flush in her cheeks, the slight parting of her lips, the challenge in her eyes.

"What I want," I say carefully, "isn't relevant. This is about your comeback. Your career."

"What if I want more?"

My control slips. "Avery."

"Tell me you don't feel it too." She moves closer, fearless as always. "This pull between us. It's not like we haven't had sex with each other before."

"It's complicated."

"It's simple." Another step. "We want each other. Since Miami we always have."

The distance between us shrinks to nothing. I can smell her scent and its turning me on.

"If we cross this line," I warn, "there's no going back."

Her hand comes up, hovering just above my chest but not quite touching. "Good, I don't want to go back."

Everything in me screams to pull her closer, but I force myself to step back.

"We can't," I say, though it physically pains me. "Your career has to come first. If it all falls apart it could get messy. For both of us."

"It's already messy." Her voice catches. "It has been since Miami."

"Which is exactly why we need to be smart about this." I run a hand through my wet hair, needing the distraction. "Two months, Jenkins. Give me two months to get your career back on track. After that." I trail off.

"After that?"

I meet her eyes, letting her see everything I'm holding back. "After that, all bets are off. My mouth is on you, my cock buried deep in you."

She shivers, and it takes everything in me not to close the distance between us.

"Two months is a long time," she says softly.

"I know." I allow myself to trace her cheek with my knuckles, just once. I let my thumb brush her pulse point, feeling it race. "I'm going to remind you why Miami was just the warm-up, but not tonight. Soon."

Her eyes darken further.

She turns and leaves. Fuck I want her, but is it worth my career if I let my feelings dictate my life? I dress quickly, trying to focus on the day ahead. Its only six more weeks.