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“I can try. ”
“This is a date. The club was a date. ”
“Maybe we’re not dating. Maybe we’re just flirting. A lot. ”
He shook his head. “Nope. We’re dating. ”
I closed my eyes. “Well, see, Abe, that’s a problem. ”
“Yes, you explained. Issues with history and all that. Luckily for you, I believe I can help you with those issues. ”
I smiled but didn’t open my eyes. “No, but also. . . Tanya talked to me about you. ”
He looked unimpressed. “Tanya Jones. Your boss. Why?”
“She figured out we knew each other. ”
He could tell something was off, and it visibly displeased him, enough to sharpen his words. “I thought you guys were supposed to be reporters. Or does Sports Today not investigate?”
That pricked at my pride. “We do. I just. . . I’d kept it quiet. ”
He cocked his head. “Why?”
I looked out the window. Rain had begun to fall, a steady drizzle without the oomph or excitement of a downpour, just relentless and unyielding. “I don’t know. I guess because I knew. . . I had an inkling, you know? That we can’t do anything. That it’s not professionally appropriate. ”
His mouth turned down with displeasure. “The hell with that. We’ve known each other since long before anything professional came into this. ”
“But it doesn’t change the fact that our jobs do put us at odds. ”
“I don’t care. ”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Because you were a Rookie-of-the-Year. Because you’re first string and a beloved player and known by—and making—millions. But I’m a newbie reporter that still needs to prove herself. ”
He reached across the table and brushed a loose lock of my hair off my face. “And is that the real reason?”
Confusion curled in my belly, desire for his touch, for him, and uncertainty at how to proceed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the real reason you’re so hesitant. ” He shrugged. “There is a real reason, isn’t there?”
I licked my lips. “What if I’m right, and you’re wrong? What if we try a relationship or whatever, and it doesn’t work out, and it ruins our friendship? That seems like a very bad idea. ”
“Hey. ” He leaned forward, dark eyes glittering. “Let me tell you a secret. ”
I mimicked his body and leaned forward, until we were only a breath apart. I could smell him, warm and spicy, and my entire body lit on fire. I couldn’t look away.
He pressed his lips to mine. They moved in a sensual, slow kiss, the kind that could topple empires—or at least people into bed.
I pulled back and scowled. “Foul play. ”
He grinned. “You liked it. ”
I shook my head. “I still think we should meet other people. ”
His grin just widened. “Liar. ”
“I am not!” He was infuriating. And kind of right. “You’re not a good emotional investment. And I’m not interested. So I’m meeting other guys. ”
He arched a brow. “And how’s that going for you?”
“Great,” I shot back. “Considering my roommate’s having a dinner party and inviting all her single guy friends. ”
He frowned. “You’re kidding. What, is she setting you up?”
I jutted out my chin. “She might. ”
“When is it?”
“Tomorr—wait. ”
He smiled slowly. “And what time?”
“No! Abe, that’s not the point. I shouldn’t. . . ” I shouldn’t go down this road again.
But, oh, God, I wanted it more than anything.
I stared at him. Everything wobbled, and this great yearning pulled me toward him. We were inevitable, weren’t we? Why didn’t I just say yes and give in?
After all, how do you resist the only guy in the world you’ve ever really wanted?
I let out a deep breath and watched as Abe’s gaze dropped to my lips. My heart started up. “Fine. Eight o’clock. I’ll see you then. ”
Chapter Fifteen
Everyone invited a handful of people. We capped at sixteen, figuring too many more would be unwieldy in our small apartment. Lucy wanted an ambitious menu while Jaz voted for just picking food up. In the end, we combined both styles: Jaz dug out a Crock-Pot I didn’t know we had and whipped up a batch of chili, and Lucy made quesadillas and salsa and fresh rolls. For dessert, we bought pints of designer ice cream and chopped up strawberries and chocolate. For appetizers, we arranged pretty bowls of peanuts and almonds around the room and cooked up a sheet of frozen spinach bites.
We weren’t entirely certain the living room would fit everyone. The table, which we usually had pushed against one wall, certainly wouldn’t, as it sat six at most. So we moved it to the kitchen, where it took up almost all of the available space, and arranged our smorgasbord of food atop it. We filled the living room with chairs and circled them all.
Three people would be stuck in folding chairs we borrowed from the landlord, but it was still a pretty good setup.
Lucy decked herself out in what she called her Mad Men audition clothes—a teal dress with a swooping neckline and a flared waist, with bangle-y earrings and high heels, which seemed slightly silly since we usually didn’t wear shoes inside. Sabeen straightened her hair, which made it impossibly long, and glossed her lips. Even Jaz managed to scrounge up some pants that weren’t for running.
I had a red dress that would have been perfect, but I couldn’t wear it after that first conversation with Abraham. Unless I wanted to send mixed signals, which I was trying really hard not to do.
It was just that my mind and heart weren’t even on the same wavelength.
A pair of Lucy’s friends arrived first, two whom I’d seen a couple of times in and out of the apartment. Next came Sabeen’s friends Nita and Alli, and Sabeen’s on-off hookup, Evan, along with two of his guy friends. Then Jaz’s friends from her grad program showed up.
I hadn’t invited anyone besides Shoshi, who couldn’t make it, and Abe. I’d love to have had my coworker friends over, but I didn’t see how I could invite just a few and not all of them.
Everyone brought alcohol—six-packs and Trader Joe wine. One guy, with a trimmed goatee and rectangle glasses and a vest, brought Jack Daniels.
Lucy invited two of her theater friends, and she ushered the taller of the two in my direction, unable to keep the yenta-like glint from her eyes. And she called herself an actress.
“This is Neil,” she said with no small relish. “Neil, my roommate, Tamar. ”
“Hi. ” I gave a wave that wanted to be a handshake when it grew up. “Thanks for coming. ”
He grinned back. “Yeah, no problem. ”
I suddenly had nothing left to say. I could interview strangers without difficulty, but give me a cute boy to impress and my words dried up. How was anyone ever clever on cue? I would be queen of witty repartee if I could have five minutes to think up a response.
But honestly, “no problem” didn’t give me much to work with.
“So you’re new here?”
Thank God. I latched on to it immediately. “Yeah! I just moved from California. ”