Page 41 of Play With Me

“No, Jude.” Her voice is still that signature soft caress that makes me feel like I’m home. But I know better than to think she’s okay. She’s like she was in the library, only this time I feel the heat of her gaze on me. “You listen to me. You can’t come barging in here like a fucking caveman.”

And God help me, as I’m staring at her, my eyes drop south. I can’t help it. It’s the whiskey and her sex-on-a-stick outfit. I drag my idiot gaze over the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the slight roundness of her hips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her voice wobbling.

She told me she got called bony and flat when she was a teenager. That’s bullshit. But I already knew that, from the odd stolen glance back home.

I bring my eyes back up to hers.

“Maybe I am a caveman,” I bark out. I look out into the living room. “I feel like one in here. Who were those assholes?”

“Friends, Jude. Students, like me.”

I suck my teeth and turn around, looking for a drink. “They look a little old to be students.”

“They’re PhD students. You can do it anytime. I’m older than half my class.”

“Met a few of them out there,” I say bitterly.

“Were you Nice Jude? Or this Jude?”

Heat curls in my chest. Embarrassment, maybe. I hold a bottle up to the light. Peppermint liqueur. I don’t want to puke, so I reach for the open bottle of wine behind that, pouring it into my crystal glass.

I ignore her question and hold up the glass. “Classy, right?”

“Stupid.”

“Exactly.” I take a swig of wine, then lean both hands on the counter, the wine still between my forefinger and thumb.

Nora sighs. “Jude, would you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“I was hoping we could talk like adults.”

I turn on her. “Sure, Nora. That’s what we are, right? Two adults; a man and a woman, who somehow managed to have a friendship that was fucking everything. Then, the woman left, and it’s fallen into fucking pieces. Now, that guy out there—”

Anger heats her cheeks.

“Sorry, I forgot, it wasn’t working before, apparently.”

She doesn’t say anything. But maybe that’s because I’ve stepped so close I’m in her personal space. I should back up. But goddammit, I can smell her. It’s a scent so familiar it makes my breath catch. I can’t help it; I dip my face. “You know, I still smell it at home sometimes?”

“What?” she whispers.

“Your shampoo. Just the ghost of it on a breeze.”

“Jude,” Nora says, softly laying her hands on my chest. She gently pushes me away and I feel something inside of me crack.

Sasha has it all wrong. We’re friends, that’s all. If we weren’t, she’d be pulling me to her. The way I suddenly want her to.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I think I’m a little drunk.”

Way to fucking go, Kelly!my old coach’s voice rattles in my ear.

When I back away, Nora takes my hand in hers. But she won’t quite meet my eye.

“You know what Cap said to me that day outside the hotel when I told you I was leaving?”

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