Page 45 of Try Hard
“Are you worried about me, Ophelia?”
“I imagine everyone is worried about you after that,” she said, but the pink colour climbing up her neck and over the ear I could see suggested she was a little embarrassed in an adorable way.
I laughed, letting her off the hook. “It’s a lot less aggressive than the professional level, far fewer injuries, you know? People want to play but they also want to go home to their families and their jobs. They don’tneedit in the same way you do when it’s your job and everything is on the line.”
She nodded, breathing out slowly in a way that suggested she really had been worried about me. “And you like your new job?”
That was an easy question too. “Yeah. I always did love interior design and my partner is awesome.”
“Partner?” There was something hard in her voice and I couldn’t help feel a surge of hope bursting in my chest.
“Business partner,” I clarified, watching every minute detail on her face, every muscle flex, every little bit of emotion that got away from her.
“Right. Rohanna. From the article.”
“That’s the one,” I told her, amused. “I wonder what you two would be like in the same room.”
I could tell from her expression that she heard my hopeful, speculative tone.
She shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find out one day.”
My breath came far too sharply for a casual conversion and I could only hope it got lost in the syncopated bass from the song now playing over the speakers. I wanted them to meet. I worried Ophelia would be thrown by Row’s chaotic energy, but I wanted them to meet. Row was my best friend and business partner. And Ophelia was… a fucking dream I never wanted to stop living in.
My hands gripped her phone. I wanted to hold her. Wanted to introduce her to every single person I’d ever met as my girlfriend. It was ridiculous, but twenty years did nothing where Ophelia Pendrick was concerned.
The conversation continued to flow easily as she drove me to my dad’s place and, before I knew it, I was directing her into the parking lot for his building.
She pulled in and killed the engine, turning to smile at me, and it was like the sun coming out on a terrible day. The weather wasn’t even bad—it was great so far—but winning her smiles couldn’t effectively be compared to anything else.
She nodded down at my phone. “So, what’s the verdict?”
I grinned. “That I love your music taste.”
“Wow. Not even pretending to play it cool, Archer?”
“Would there be any point?” The question was bigger than just her music taste. It was whether I needed to play cool how much I already liked her and always had, how much Kim and Tanika had been giving me away with their ministrations, but I didn’t want to pressure or overwhelm her. Especially not so early on in getting reacquainted. Ophelia Pendrick was not the kind of person you got second chances with if you screwed it up and hurt her.
She narrowed her eyes marginally. “Maybe not. You have been holding my phone like a lifeline for the last forty minutes, after all.”
I breathed a laugh. “Indeed I have.”
“Are you planning to return it at any point?”
“Maybe.”
She locked the doors that had unlocked themselves when she turned the car off. “Then,maybeI’ll let you out of the car.”
She knew I could unlock my door myself. The question was whether I would. Didn’t seem likely, not when she was willingly locking herself in a car with me. She’d be lucky if she ever got rid of me.
I smiled at her, drinking her in, just for a minute, before I held her phone out. “Talk to you soon?”
She smirked. “I have your number.”
“You do.”
“Not everyone can say the same.”
It had to be a good sign that she was glad I hadn’t returned Sammy’s affections. “They cannot,” I replied as casually as I was able with so many emotions bouncing around inside of me
