Before I knew what I was doing, I’d made it halfway across the room, beelining for the door. “You can kindly go screw yourself.”
“Rowsthorn,” Coach called.
I flipped him the bird over my shoulder, slamming the door for good measure.
No way.
No way in hell was I getting into that.
All I wanted was to report on Kane’s shot at nationals, dig up any dirt I could find, and move on to Pulitzer-worthy material.
I ran out of steam as I reached the parking lot and pulled my cell from my back pocket. Staring blankly at the Uber app, I thought about how desperately I needed this job to work out. If writing for a relatively small newspaper was problematic for me, how was I ever going to make it to the New York Times?
As much as my skin crawled, and I fought a serious case of fight or flight at the idea of being that close to Kane again, was it really worth my dream career?
Damn.
The answer was: No. It wasn’t.
“Darcy.”
I really wasn’t ready to look at him, but honestly, I wasn’t ready for any of it.
Kane jogged through the front doors and slowed, as though he were approaching a dangerous creature. Right. He knew me, didn’t he?
I consciously dropped my shoulders and pasted on an approximation of a pleasant smile. He froze.
Deep breath. On a sigh, I tried to make myself a fraction more approachable.
Kane glanced around us. Wrung his hands. Rubbed the back of his neck. Damn, his biceps were huge now.Don’t look!
“I had no idea Coach was going to suggest that. I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea.”
His face was so sincere, and I had a sudden flashback of another time Kane had come after me. Another time when he apologized for his coach’s behavior.
“Don’t worry about it, Kane. It’s none of my business.”
I turned my back on him and stalled out. If I didn’t agree to this, what then? I had no plan B.
With a sinking feeling, I dropped my head. “What do I need to do?”
Silence. Had I mumbled? I glared over my shoulder, ready to fight. Kane’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open.
I guess he had heard.
“I have conditions, though,” I said.
As my nightmare ex continued to pull a fish out of water routine, I took the opportunity to make my case.
“No touching. No kissing. No dates. We go to whatever public events we have to, but no communication beyond swimming.”
Kane closed his mouth and seemed to compose himself.
“Counterpoint. All those things are needed to look legitimate.”
“No. They’re not. Tell Coach I’m in, but we’re keeping my conditions. He can call me on my cell.” I turned to storm away and realized I hadn’t ordered an Uber yet. Damn.
Fine. I could pretend he wasn’t there. I requested a ride and started scrolling old emails, trying to appear busy so Kane would leave me the hell alone. He was still there. The way his eyes burned into my back felt annoyingly familiar. I had to remind myself I didn’t like his attention. It only led to bad things.
