Page 51 of Sparks Like Ours

“Her very platonic date.”

She watched as Gia’s features relaxed once understanding tookhold.

“Nice to meet you,” Gia said. “Elle speaks well of you.”

He turned to Elle with a grin. “I’m flattered. Well, if yourintentions are honorable, I’ll leave the two of you to whatever you have going.Are your intentions honorable?”

“Christopher,” Elle said flatly, in warning.

Gia smiled. “Intentions of gold.”

Christopher backed up toward his car, still in big brother mode.“Great. Holding you to it. You guys have a nice night. Play her a little jazz,”he said to Gia.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Elle said through gritted teeth. Whileannoyed by his protective act, she couldn’t help being touched by thesentiment. He cared, which mattered to her.

They waited as Christopher pulled out of her driveway and headedoff into the night. Alone in front of her house at close to eleven p.m., Elle staredat Gia and Gia stared at Elle.

“Hi,” she said, finally, after drinking Gia in.

“Sorry I crashed the end of your night. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not upset.”

“Good.”

Another pause, but not the uncomfortable kind. No, this silencecame laced with something light and important. That didn’t make sense, but thennot much did lately. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” Elle said. “I shouldhave. Called you. Or sent a text.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think there’s a hard and fast rule. Ijust…wanted to see you.” Wow, that made her stomach tighten pleasantly. “Oncethe tournament hits, who knows where our heads will be.”

Elle nodded. “The calm before the storm.” She glanced around,acutely aware that they were still standing outside and she’d completely lostthe manners her mother had instilled in her. “Why don’t you come inside? I needto pack, but we can talk.”

Gia nodded and followed her up the walk. Once inside, Elle movedabout the house flipping on lights. An overabundance of them, she now realized.She flipped off a couple for good measure. All the while, Gia watched asamusement crept onto her features.

“Lighting schemes are important to you,” she said, from where shestood in the entryway. That blue hoodie sure did look soft. She imaginedgripping it and pulling Gia toward her.

“I’m a details girl. A micromanager.”

“Let me guess. You have a packing list and organizational gadgetsto keep all your stuff color-separated and tidy for any and all tournamenttravel.”

“Follow me and find out,” Elle said, with a proud smile. She ledthe way down the short hallway off the living room to her bedroom, where hersuitcase was already laid out and halfway packed. She turned to Gia and foundher studying the room. “What’s that look mean? I’m afraid I don’t know all ofyour looks yet.”

“Yet?” Gia asked, with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

Elle felt the color rush to her cheeks. “Yet,” she repeatedquietly, owning the statement.

“I was just thinking that every room in your house is the epitomeof comfort. Look at this place. You have like twelve amazing pillows on thisbed, all fluffy and soft looking.”

Elle shrugged. “I work hard physically. I like to be comfortablewhen I’m off the clock, and I go out of my way to make sure I am.”

“More planning,” Gia said. “I’m learning more and more howimportant control is to you.”

On that cue, Elle flipped open the suitcase on her bed.

“Holy hell,” Gia said. “You have sections to your suitcase? It’slike a grid system in there.”

Elle turned to her innocently. “Bedtime clothes, swimsuits, regularclothes, nicer evening wear. These things need their own space.”

“To do what?” Gia asked, her voice louder than before.

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