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laugh.
    â€œIt—meaning your sweaty chest—wasn’t such a big deal.”
    â€œI’ve filled out some,” he said easily. “And I still shoot hoops.” This time she didn’t seem to notice when he stroked her hair. “I remember that day. It was at the end of the summer, before my senior year. In three months you’d gone from being that pesty little Sexton kid to Sexy Sexton with a yard of the most incredible chestnut hair, and these great-looking legs you used to show off in teeny little shorts. You were such a brat. And you made my mouth water.”
    â€œYou were always looking at Julie Newton.”
    â€œNo, I was pretending to look at Julie Newton while I looked at you. Then you just happened to stroll by the court that day. You’d been to Lester’s Store, because you had a bottle of soda. Grape soda.”
    She lifted a brow. “That’s quite a memory you’ve got.”
    â€œHey, these are the turning points in our lives. You said, ‘Hi, Brady. You look awful hot. Want a sip?’” He grinned again. “I almost took a bite out of my basketball. Then you flirted with me.”
    â€œI did not.”
    â€œYou batted your eyes.”
    She struggled with a giggle. “I’ve never batted my eyes.”
    â€œYou batted them then.” He sighed at the memory. “It was great.”
    â€œAs I remember it, you were showing off, doing layups and hook shots or whatever. Macho stuff. Then you grabbed me.”
    â€œI remember grabbing. You liked it.”
    â€œYou smelled like a gym locker.”
    â€œI guess I did. It was still my most memorable first kiss.”
    And hers, Vanessa thought. She hadn’t realized she was leaning back against his shoulder and smiling. “We were so young. Everything was so intense, and so uncomplicated.”
    â€œSome things don’t have to be complicated.” But sitting there with her head feeling just right on his shoulder, he wasn’t so sure. “Friends?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œI haven’t had a chance to ask you how long you’re staying.”
    â€œI haven’t had a chance to decide.”
    â€œYour schedule must be packed.”
    â€œI’ve taken a few months.” She moved restlessly. “I may go to Paris for a few weeks.”
    He picked up her hand again, turning it over. Her hands hadalways fascinated him. Those long, tapering fingers, the baby-smooth palms, the short, practical nails. She wore no rings. He had given her one once—spent the money he’d earned mowing grass all summer on a gold ring with an incredibly small emerald. She’d kissed him senseless when he’d given it to her, and she’d sworn never to take it off.
    Childhood promises were carelessly broken by adults. It was foolish to wish he could see it on her finger again.
    â€œYou know, I managed to see you play at Carnegie Hall a couple of years ago. It was overwhelming. You were overwhelming.” He surprised them both by bringing her fingers to his lips. Then hastily dropped them. “I’d hoped to see you while we were both in New York, but I guess you were busy.”
    The jolt from her fingertips was still vibrating in her toes. “If you had called, I’d have managed it.”
    â€œI did call.” His eyes remained on hers, searching, even as he shrugged it off. “It was then I fully realized how big you’d become. I never got past the first line of defense.”
    â€œI’m sorry. Really.”
    â€œIt’s no big deal.”
    â€œNo, I would have liked to have seen you. Sometimes the people around me are too protective.”
    â€œI think you’re right.” He put a hand under her chin. She was more beautiful than his memory of her, and more fragile. If he had met her in New York, in less sentimental surroundings, would he have felt so drawn to her? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
    Friends