Page 35 of Reluctantly Yours

I look to Barrett.

“She’ll do a Babolat Pure Aero. Right-handed.”

My brows lift at how fancy that sounded. “What happened to Prince and Wilson?”

“They’re still around.” He shrugs.

Alana hands me the racket Barrett requested, then offers to walk me to the pro shop.

“I’ll take her.” Barrett motions for me to follow.

We pass through a great room that is large enough to be a tennis court, but it’s decorated with high-back reading chairs, side tables and lamps. The lamps cast a warm glow, the perfect reading light. I’m jealous of the man reading his paper in peace.

A thought comes to mind.

“As your girlfriend, do I have access to the racket club?”

“Court reservations may only be made by members, but you have access to the other amenities, whirlpool, sauna, lounge and reading room.”

Forget tennis. Sign me up for the reading room.

“I’ve added you to my guest list.”

“So, when we break up, am I going to be removed?” I ask.

From the sign on the door that says Pro Shop, I can see our destination ahead.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he says.

“The racquet club or the breakup?”

“Either.”

“Wait.” My footsteps slow and our joined hands pull taut. Barrett turns back toward me. “How are we going to break up?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“We are going to break up. Six weeks or as soon as your deal with Fred is done, whichever comes first. It’s what you wrote,” I remind him. I marked the day on my calendar. It’s a week before Lauren’s wedding. I remember the relief I felt when I realized I wouldn’t have to explain any of this to my parents. My fake relationship with Barrett will be in the rearview mirror before I’m back in Colorado.

“I’m going to vote for a conscious uncoupling that leaves me unlimited access to that reading room,” I offer.

Barrett’s lips quirk. He finds my arrangement amusing.

“What do I get?” he asks.

His eyes scan over my face.

“What do you want?” I ask earnestly because apparently negotiating is our thing.

Barrett’s eyes drop lower on my body. I swear I can feel the heat of his gaze all the way down to my toes. It happens so quickly, or maybe not even at all. I probably imagined it. Maybe he’s eyeing a mole on my neck. Yeah, that’s probably it.

His brow furrows in concentration. He’s trying to remember the name of the dermatologist he’s going to refer me to.

But then, there are those long fingers reaching up toward his mouth. I’m not imaginingthose. Two fingers slide across his bottom lip, tugging the flesh sideways. My eyes follow their path. It’s a slow seduction of my pupils. Is that a thing?

With that one movement, all the air gets sucked out of my lungs. Suddenly the two-thousand-square-foot space around us feels stifling.

Barrett’s lips haven’t touched mine in three days and suddenly that feels like an eternity. If his kiss on the cheek outside affected my lady bits, now they’re fully alert. And wet.