Read It's In His Kiss for Free Online Page B
Authors: Mallory Kane
he hadn't called her the minute he'd arrived.
For some reason, tears were pricking at her eyelids again. She blinked hard and pressed her lips together but they still came. Had she really been so mean the last time she'd seen him?
They'd always argued, about everything from how to save the world to who should date who and why. What was different about that last day? He was acting as if she'd somehow hurt him, when he was the one taking off for Japan and leaving her alone.
Well, he'd paid her back, big time. For some reason, that hurt a lot more than her breakup with David. She squinted at the red numbers on her digital clock and wondered if it was too late to run out for double chocolate fudge ice cream.
CHAPTER THREE
Michael slammed the ball into the wall as hard as he could, which wasn't nearly hard enough. The echoing thud was satisfying though, and when the ball ricocheted off the floor and straight back at him, he was ready.
"Ugh!" he grunted as he slammed it again, then ducked as it rebounded straight back, too fast. His foot slipped on a patch of sweat, and he went down hard on his butt.
Cursing, he flung the racket and stayed down. Turning up the bottom of his sleeveless practice shirt to wipe his face, he conceded defeat to the racquetball. It had beaten him, fair and square.
Tonight hadn't been a good night, all around. No matter how hard he hit the ball or how violently he swung the racquet, he still saw Cat every time he closed his eyes.
Lying on the sofa with that sleep shirt stretched over her round, cute butt. Her short black hair that made her look like a sexy little pixie. The hurt look in her big green eyes that he was terribly afraid he'd caused. Sara was right, he shouldn't have waited so long to contact his best friend.
He pushed his fingers through sweat-dampened hair, and wiped his face again. It wasn't Cat's fault that he was hung up on her. Somehow, he had to get over her while remaining friends, because even if he couldn't have her the way he wanted her, he couldn't imagine his life without Cat in it.
Somebody tapped on the glass. He looked up, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as the door opened. "J.R., what are you doing here this late?
J.R. walked in looking as sweaty and frustrated as Michael felt. His sharp-featured face, accented by short, dark blonde hair and a matching goatee, was grim behind his ironic smile.
"First, it's not late. It's morning--early morning, but morning nonetheless. Second, I could ask you the same thing. Third, I'm probably here for the same reason you are."
Michael looked at his watch and groaned. "Four a.m. I know what kind of day I'm going to have. Serves me right. Schmuck," he muttered under his breath.
"Did you just call yourself a jerk?"
"Close," Michael said.
J.R. held out a bottle of water, which he grabbed gratefully and turned it up. The cold stuff felt great as it slid down his throat, and dribbled down his chin. He handed the bottle back to J.R. and stood, stretching his tired muscles. He shot his friend a glance. "More like an idiot."
"In that case, we're not here for the same reason. I'm here because my brother's an idiot."
Grabbing his towel and racquet, Michael headed for the showers. "What'd he do?"
"Hank has decided he's fallen in love with this woman." J.R. stripped and wrenched on the shower faucets.
Michael did the same in the next stall. "The one you were talking about? The one who's ten years older than him?"
" And a gold-digger."
"You've met her?"
"No. Not yet. But what else does a woman who's nearing fifty want with a man who's not even forty yet?" J.R. shouted over the sound of the shower.
Michael laughed and threw a bar of soap over the three-quarters wall at him. "You mean besides the obvious?"
J.R. nodded reluctantly and shrugged his soapy shoulders. "Well, okay. But damn. You'd think he'd learn. One cheating
For some reason, tears were pricking at her eyelids again. She blinked hard and pressed her lips together but they still came. Had she really been so mean the last time she'd seen him?
They'd always argued, about everything from how to save the world to who should date who and why. What was different about that last day? He was acting as if she'd somehow hurt him, when he was the one taking off for Japan and leaving her alone.
Well, he'd paid her back, big time. For some reason, that hurt a lot more than her breakup with David. She squinted at the red numbers on her digital clock and wondered if it was too late to run out for double chocolate fudge ice cream.
CHAPTER THREE
Michael slammed the ball into the wall as hard as he could, which wasn't nearly hard enough. The echoing thud was satisfying though, and when the ball ricocheted off the floor and straight back at him, he was ready.
"Ugh!" he grunted as he slammed it again, then ducked as it rebounded straight back, too fast. His foot slipped on a patch of sweat, and he went down hard on his butt.
Cursing, he flung the racket and stayed down. Turning up the bottom of his sleeveless practice shirt to wipe his face, he conceded defeat to the racquetball. It had beaten him, fair and square.
Tonight hadn't been a good night, all around. No matter how hard he hit the ball or how violently he swung the racquet, he still saw Cat every time he closed his eyes.
Lying on the sofa with that sleep shirt stretched over her round, cute butt. Her short black hair that made her look like a sexy little pixie. The hurt look in her big green eyes that he was terribly afraid he'd caused. Sara was right, he shouldn't have waited so long to contact his best friend.
He pushed his fingers through sweat-dampened hair, and wiped his face again. It wasn't Cat's fault that he was hung up on her. Somehow, he had to get over her while remaining friends, because even if he couldn't have her the way he wanted her, he couldn't imagine his life without Cat in it.
Somebody tapped on the glass. He looked up, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as the door opened. "J.R., what are you doing here this late?
J.R. walked in looking as sweaty and frustrated as Michael felt. His sharp-featured face, accented by short, dark blonde hair and a matching goatee, was grim behind his ironic smile.
"First, it's not late. It's morning--early morning, but morning nonetheless. Second, I could ask you the same thing. Third, I'm probably here for the same reason you are."
Michael looked at his watch and groaned. "Four a.m. I know what kind of day I'm going to have. Serves me right. Schmuck," he muttered under his breath.
"Did you just call yourself a jerk?"
"Close," Michael said.
J.R. held out a bottle of water, which he grabbed gratefully and turned it up. The cold stuff felt great as it slid down his throat, and dribbled down his chin. He handed the bottle back to J.R. and stood, stretching his tired muscles. He shot his friend a glance. "More like an idiot."
"In that case, we're not here for the same reason. I'm here because my brother's an idiot."
Grabbing his towel and racquet, Michael headed for the showers. "What'd he do?"
"Hank has decided he's fallen in love with this woman." J.R. stripped and wrenched on the shower faucets.
Michael did the same in the next stall. "The one you were talking about? The one who's ten years older than him?"
" And a gold-digger."
"You've met her?"
"No. Not yet. But what else does a woman who's nearing fifty want with a man who's not even forty yet?" J.R. shouted over the sound of the shower.
Michael laughed and threw a bar of soap over the three-quarters wall at him. "You mean besides the obvious?"
J.R. nodded reluctantly and shrugged his soapy shoulders. "Well, okay. But damn. You'd think he'd learn. One cheating