KICK IT | JENLISA

58

Jennie

Not that I resisted, but Lisa convinced me to stay for a post-workout lunch. I turned to her sitting next to me on her island and dented her shoulder with the end of my fork. "When is Bambam testing this again?"

"After the charity game in two weeks." She pushed aside my jabbing fork. I didn't notice the way her throat bobbed, the tendons tightening as she swallowed hard. Nope. Her smile was contagious, though. "He thinks I'll injure it by swinging the clubs. So, you might need to carry our team."

"Team?"

"Four, but each pair is scored together." Her eyes dropped to her hand wrapped around her water glass. "One team is two couples."

"Ask nicely if you need me to carry your dead-ass weight." I fought an urge to pat her shoulder. "I played in high school. What kind of event is this?"

"It's for charity." My heart twisted at the word 'charity.' The way she hesitated didn't help. "Sorry, I forgot it was a pair event. My ex is..."

I puffed a breath over my forkful, my stomach wondering why I waited. "Not attending. I get it."

"No, she is." She sighed and strangled her fork. "With her new beau."

Ouch. "Oh." my lips rounded the word. A quick rebound had to be a bitter kick to the gonads. "I'm sorry."

"It's whatever." Her shoulders shrugged. "But thanks for going with me."

I hummed and dropped the conversation into silence, studying my plate. With each bite, my taste buds threw a celebration for her spiced pulled pork and glazed carrots. Did she make all this again?

Lisa cleared her throat and blurted out, "Tell me something about you, Jennie. I barely know you."

And it was for the best. The insistence in her voice quickened my heart, but I defaulted to a sarcastic, "I like long, romantic walks to the icebox."

"Noted." Her smile widened. "How did you get into golf?"

Lisa's casual tone implied I played all the time, but I hadn't picked up a club in three years. My golf game needed more rust buffed off than what Abe removed from the truck. "My dad."

My recent self brought up too many painful memories, so I dipped further back. I talked about former Jennie, the girl who loved summer concerts, danced under the trees, aced cheesy carnival games, and relaxed at the beach. That Jennie was a damn stranger. Bittersweet lies coated my tongue and overwhelmed Lisa's lunch, so I shifted the conversation. She told me about college and football when eight-year-old Lisa first picked up a ball and hung my dad's posters on her walls.

Laughs left both of us at her clumsy and uncoordinated moments. I knew some, including when she ran over a Gatorade cooler at Baylor, but I didn't know Lisa laughed them off. She was close to her parents and spoke with them twice a week. An only child, which I teased, "Explains a lot about your God complex."

"I can't believe I never connected you and Jackson." Guilt clouded over her warm brown eyes, and she shook her head.

The sour reminder dissolved my smile. "I wasn't significant enough for you to pay attention to."

I didn't mean to sound as bitter as a scorned lover and rolled my lips in to take the words back. With a lean back, the sun from the patio door caught her hair. It illuminated the tops of her midnight black hair in a fluffy halo. Lisa's eyes filled with an unreadable emotion, which she held back and studied me.

"I was too stupid not to pay attention to you."

It took a few seconds for her words to register and more for me to search for any sign of teasing in her eyes. No shadow of a doubt, no flicker of dissolution lived there. Only warm regret.

Her words put my brain in a mental blender. The hot air thickened into a sauna. My lips parted, and my eyes rounded. Yet again, she rendered me speechless. Her forward honesty deserved mine. Heat crept into my cheeks. "Your words, Lisa. Not mine. But you're... more tolerable than I used to believe."

Her hands clutched her heart, earning her a shake of my head. The grin she threw me, coupled with the warmth in her gaze, turned my stomach uneasy. I wasn't uncomfortable but... hyper-aware of her attention and proximity. Goosebumps tickled up the back of my neck.

"Lisa." Hesitancy stole my voice, rolling my dry lips inward. I wet them with the tip of my tongue.

"So, when can I go to your specialised class? I'm killing it in your other ones."

Thank fuck she changed the subject. "So humble. It's not that kind of class." I mumbled. Bull-headed stubbornness aside, Lisa had demonstrated she took yoga seriously before her idiotic idea to attend all of mine.

The guys being kindergarteners begging for a class pet by asking if Lisa could come wasn't helping. "No distractions?"

"No distractions." She held up her palm in an oath. "Promise."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Don't make me regret it." Half of me already regretted it because Lisa meant one less mat space. Her annoying, persistent ass earned it.

A rough, giant hand covered mine and drew my eyes open. Lisa's eyes brightened with an incoming tease. "I'll behave."

Ignoring the warm comfort at our contact point, my eye roll prompted those damn dimples to appear. "I trust you about as far as I can throw you, Lisa Manoban."