Love Game

“Biting back.”

He was close enough now to bite me. To kiss me. His eyes were on my mouth, wanting to do it. His own lips parted, his tongue touching a drop of water at the corner, and I nearly moaned. I felt the heat of his body emanating through the cool water of the pool and it would be nothing to move into that space and have those muscular arms of his hold me while his mouth took mine...

I put the flat of my hand on his chest and gave him one firm push back.

“I am not going to be a fling.”

I set my wine glass on the edge of the pool. I needed to not be drunk or drunk on him. I needed to not let Kai intoxicate me with his beautiful face and sharp tongue that certainly had been more than one woman’s undoing.

“That’s too bad.” Kai moved beside me so we both faced the deep end and rested his elbows behind him on the ledge. “I think we’d make a great fling.”

“I’ll bet,” I said. “But I’m not built that way. And it’s not appropriate in our situation.”

“You mean the old employee thing?” He shot me a grin. “Why do you think I fired you?”

“Don’t make jokes. You were rude as hell to me earlier. Hurtful.”

His smile vanished and the care I’d seen in his eyes the other night came back. “I know.”

“And?”

He said nothing but stared out over the water as the outdoor lights came on, bathing the backyard in amber light. The pool was lit from beneath the surface, pale blue topaz and gold.

“I have a confession,” Kai said after a moment.

“Okay.”

“It works.”

“What works?”

“The Reiki or whatever it is you do to me. It works. Helps. It does…something.”

I turned toward him, happiness flaring in my chest. “Really? I’m so—” Suspicion swooped in and cut off my words. I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. Is this some sort of line? To butter me up so I’ll sleep with you?”

“No, but is it working?”

I gave him a little splash. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. I mean it,” he said, skimming his palms over the water. “It’s forcing me to deal with shit I don’t want to deal with. And fuck it, why not? I need to man-up and handle it, right?”

“Dealing with pain isn’t about being masculine or strong enough,” I said quietly. “It’s about facing it for your own sake, not anyone else’s.”

He nodded. “I guess. But it sucks. It’s scary, actually.”

“What is?”

“The grief,” he said, turning to look at me. “There’s so much. Like a shadow of the deepest black, and to touch even a part of it… That’s bad enough. To go all the way in?” He shook his head. “Bloody terrifying.”

“You don’t have to go all in,” I said. “Not all at once. But I think blocking it out...blocking him out, entirely?” I

shook my head. “All that pain has to go somewhere. If it gets dammed up, it’ll burst through in other ways.”

“On the court.” He snorted. “I’m such a cliché.”

“You’re not. Hell, I’m afraid of the dark. There is no greater cliché.”

“You have reason to be afraid,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. His brown eyes warmer than I’d ever seen them. “I’m sorry for what I said before.”