Blocked (36 page)

At once, he steadied me on my feet and backed away. He exhaled. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Why, oh why did you stop?
“I don’t either.”

“We just had our first kiss—the first relatively peaceful discussion of our entire relationship—and here I am already, desperate to
take you
on my bed.”

My girly bits tingled at the growl in his voice. “I want that, too.”

Shock flashed across his face, matching the flip in my stomach as I said that out loud.
What the hell am I doing?

“Jesus, we’re so screwed.” He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling. Then those deep blues found me again. “I was counting on
you
to be the one holding the reins. I certainly don’t have any self-control.”

My feet pulled me toward him—evidently I had even less control—though I knew he was smart to try to slow us down. Niggling voices from my family and my church fought to be heard, knocking on the door of my mind. I silenced the incessant noise by stepping in and pressing my lips against his neck. Dane groaned and kissed the top of my head, burying his mouth in my hair, as he gathered me into him.

I tugged his collar down to expose his collarbone, soap mingling with the faint smell of grilled onion on his shirt, and kissed him in an alcove of skin and muscle.

“Luz.” His voice sounded strained, like he was barely holding it together. “What about your father?”

When I lifted my head and looked into his troubled eyes, I sighed. He was right, and I hated it. “Dad comes between us once again.”

“Look, I want you—
God
, I want you…but this is too fast. When I meet your dad at the debate, he’ll kill me if his only daughter just jumped into bed with me.”

I drew a hand to cover my mouth, horrified by that prospect.

Dane let me go and backed up a few steps. “You know I’m right.”

“Yes.” I gritted my teeth. It grew quiet between us, the only sound the strum of a guitar and the lead singer from Dane’s favorite band.

“I yearn to touch you; you grasp for me
Fumbling in the dark, craving ecstasy
Your forbidden allure, a drunk man’s merlot
Seizes hold of my will, inside me it grows…”

He paced the room with palpable energy. Then he stopped. “Okay, I know what we should do. When I’m so hyper I can’t stand it, I go to the gym. Let’s go, okay? I’ve always wanted to set you.”

I shook my head. “But the gym’s closed. It’s locked.”

“China!” Dane opened the door and hollered her name again as he headed to the kitchen. He was back before the next song. “Frank’s taking us—he has a key, so go put on your sassy Spandex. Okay?”

I smiled at his excitement. “Okay.” I left his room and headed to mine, noticing he was right behind me. “Um…” I looked over my shoulder. “I don’t think watching me undress will help the situation with my dad.”

“Damn, you’re right.” He turned on his heel and left with a giant sigh.

Five minutes later, Dane and I sat in the backseat with Frank driving. Brad drove the other SUV as a decoy vehicle—not that we really needed it. One advantage of stealth nighttime volleyball: no media! Another advantage of the dark vehicle: Dane’s hand stroking mine with Frank none the wiser.

The main campus teemed with nightlife, and I watched students stream in and out of The Library bar. “Whoa, is this what college is really like?”

Dane snorted. “For everyone except the athletes.”

“And the
underage
students,” Frank piped up.

Dane rolled his eyes. “And the hapless offspring of presidential candidates.”

I squeezed his hand and smiled at him. I didn’t need the bar scene to have a good time at college.
He
was my good time.

“Just one week left until the presidential debate,”
a reporter said over the car radio. “
And Governor Ramirez’s camp claims the selection of a liberal moderator like Molly Martins tips the scale unfairly for his opponent. Pollsters still report a virtual tie in the presidential race
.”

For a moment I wondered what Dane thought of the liberal-bias claim, but I tried to drown out all worries about the election. Instead, I focused on the feel of his hand in mine until we arrived.

Once the buzzing lights of the gym flickered on, we discovered the coaches had left the net at women’s height. “Do you think I’ll get in trouble if Coach finds me here?”

“No way.” Dane grabbed the cart of balls and wheeled it to one side of the net. “Extra practice for his players is like his wet dream.”

Dane laughed at the disgust on my face. “C’mon, let’s warm up.”

As Frank and Brad watched from the bleachers, we jogged around the court, shuffled side to side, sprinted, and stretched. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dane’s powerful body as we peppered. No matter how hard I spiked the ball, his sets were right on target. I wished I could say the same for my passes, but I wasn’t accustomed to the force of his hits.

After Dane chased down a ball I’d shanked toward the bleachers, he looked up at our agents. “Hey, would you guys help out?”

“Sure.” Brad removed his suit jacket and hustled to the gym floor, and Dane guided him to stand by the basket of balls. Frank followed at a slower pace, staring suspiciously at us, but he did walk to the other side of the net as Dane asked.

I tugged at my kneepads as Dane nodded at me. “Ready?”

Butterflies dive-bombed my stomach but I said, “Let’s see what you got.”

His eyes glittered, and a smirk lifted a corner of his mouth. He nodded at Brad, who tossed a ball toward him. It was a low toss, but Dane got under the ball with ease and launched his set in an elegant arc to my corner of the net. My jaw unhinged as I marveled at its perfection, then before I knew it, the ball dribbled to the floor.

“I thought you said you were ready.” Dane frowned at me.

“How’d you do that?”

“How’d I do what?”

“You just set the most perfect ball I’ve ever seen, at a net lower than you’re used to, to a lefty hitter when all of your hitters are right-handed. How’d you do that?”

His grin developed slowly, lazily spreading across his face. “You wanted to see what I got, sweetheart.” His hands gestured down the length of his body. “This is what I got.”

I wanted to rip that shirt off him right then and there. My mouth felt dry, and I glanced at Frank to see if we were busted, but he simply looked bored. Maybe he’d chalked that ‘sweetheart’ comment up to Dane cockiness.

“Let’s see what
you
got,” Dane taunted. As he nodded at Brad, I shook out my hands to expel their thrumming nervousness.

The next set was an exact replication, and I slammed the ball down the line. Frank went to retrieve it. “Nice,” Dane said. “But I already know you’re a good hitter down the line. Let’s work cross-court tonight.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. With magnificent sets like that, I could hit the ball anywhere he asked. Dane set me, and I watched with satisfaction as the ball careened across the court at a vicious angle.

“
That’s
what I’m talking ’bout!”

My heart soared to see his fist pump.

I didn’t know how long he kept setting me, but I did know it was the time of my life. He arched his back to execute beautiful back-sets, and he timed his quick sets just right, practically handing me the ball as a gift to smash over the net. I bounced with glee when he wanted to practice the slide—my favorite. I lined up on the right side of the net, with him facing me. As Brad tossed the ball, I darted around behind Dane and jumped up for his back-set, which I dispatched like a heat-seeking missile. The run-around maneuver confused defenses, and it was a total blast flying through the air, waiting to pound his exquisitely placed set. I whooped as we high-fived.

All at once, Dane paused. He turned to the wall behind Brad, and I followed his gaze to see his coach standing there, watching. “Hey, Phil.” Dane brushed his hand on his thigh. “How long have you been watching us?”

“About five minutes,” Frank said from behind me.

I nodded—of course Secret Service had noticed his entrance. I’d been too absorbed in Dane’s balls (hee hee) to be aware of much else.

Phil turned to look at me, and I swallowed. I’d only spoken to him once, and he’d never seen me play. Had I performed like an amateur in his eyes?

“Good hitting, Lucia.”

His praise made my heart skip. “Thanks, Coach.”

“A word, please, Dane.”

Dane jogged over, and they spoke in hushed tones.

“Hey.” Brad grinned at me, and I noticed his white button-down shirt sticking to him with sweat. “Try some jump serves. I want to see if I can field them.”

Frank snorted. “It’s called passing, not fielding.”

“You might want to remove your gun holster first,” I told Brad as I rolled the ball cart under the net so I could serve toward his side of the court.

“No way!” He crouched down, looking ridiculous in his agent attire. “I need all the defense I can get.”

What were Dane and Phil discussing? Whatever it was, it looked intense. I hoped I hadn’t overstepped my bounds. I grabbed a ball and took a deep breath as I backpedaled from the baseline. I tossed the ball high, approached, then leaped and whacked the ball over the net. It whizzed to the floor before Brad got anywhere near it.

“Day-um, Luce!” He stood with his hands on his hips. “That packed some
heat!”

I grinned. He was like an oversized child. But I also knew he would sacrifice his life to protect us—all of our agents would.

After a few more serves, Phil walked away, leaving Dane to stare at me with an unreadable expression. He seemed…bewildered? I rolled the cart toward him, bending and scooping wayward balls into it as I went, and stopped in front of him. I looked over my shoulder and saw the agents gathering their suit jackets, out of hearing range.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked at me. “Yeah. Phil always gives me a lot to think about.”

“Was he mad we were playing?”

“No. He said he liked my ‘initiative’ to be here, since I missed part of practice.”

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

“He’s concerned about me, about my focus.” Dane rubbed his jaw. “He’s worried about the effects of our relationship.”

I gasped. “Did you tell him?”

“No, Luz.” His fingertips grazed my cheek. “He knew just by looking at us. Hell, I bet Frank knows—I bet they all know.”

My skin tingled. Would my dad know, too? Alex? It was difficult to get a full breath. “So, does Phil…” I chewed on my lip. “Do you want…to end it?”

“Are you
crazy?”
His eyes bugged. “I want to give this a shot.”

I could breathe again.

Chapter 22

“T
HAT’S
T
HE
B
EST
P
RACTICE
I’ve ever seen from you.”

I beamed like a giddy schoolgirl, which was saying something since it was the night before the final presidential debate, and things were feeling pretty serious. Phil wasn’t one to blow smoke up my ass—I knew if he praised me like that, he meant it. “Thanks.”

We stood at the side of the court, watching Brian and Kara prepare the gym for the big women’s game: Highbanks vs. Bridgetown, the top two teams in the conference. Lucia was so nervous it had taken her two hours to fall asleep the previous evening. And I knew this because when she’d finally drifted off, she’d been in my arms. It had been one of the best nights of my life.

“Why’d you play so well today?” Phil asked.

Happy athletes play better, according to Dr. Valentine, so I knew Lucia deserved credit. But I wasn’t about to admit that to Phil.