Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match) (16 page)

“Bullshit. You used to read me the riot act all the time. Your temper was never too far behind your smile. Why did you quit the team?”

Oh boy.
 Izzy could only deal with one thing at a time so she deftly avoided the topics. “I guess after Dad died, I had no one to play for anymore. I lost track of who I played for most of the time. It’s a long story. Anyway, Sabrina developed a pattern of running off, usually for days at a time, sometimes a week here or there.”

“You took care of him didn’t you?”

“Yeah. It became a real problem once when Nick was sick. Pneumonia. I took him to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me make decisions for him. It took me a day to track her down.”

Jason stared at her and worked his jaw. “Jesus, Izzy.”

“Don’t I know it? She cared about Nick enough to not want anything to happen to him. At first she only gave me custodial rights. Eventually, she signed over guardianship to me.”

“I can’t even fathom that. You were only a kid.”

Izzy hadn’t been able to either. “My mom was around then. Helped me out.” She shrugged. “When he was four, Sabrina vanished for six months. He’s called me Mom ever since. Just never in front of Sabrina. She’d never have been able to take that.”

Jason looked contemplative. “So she just shows up when she likes.”

When he put it like that, it didn’t seem like such a good idea. “I try and do what’s best for Nick. It’s not easy but I have to do it. She’s his mother.” Izzy moved in for close-ups of his face.

His lips formed a thin harsh line. “
You’re
 his mother.”

Adjusting her lens, she said, “Loosen up your face. The shadows make you look angry and predatory.” When he did so, she said, “She’s his mother. I’m just the one who gives him love like one.”

Jason looked out the window that faced the courts. “You gave him plenty. He turned out okay so far.”

Izzy didn’t know what to do with the compliment. It was all she’d ever wanted to hear from anyone. “Thanks.” Then
, because they were in a rapidly darkening living room and he was too close for comfort, she coughed and changed the subject. “So, why don’t you tell me about your friends, the paparazzi.” She could have bitten her tongue. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. She didn’t want to talk about the other night. “Never mind, forget I said that. As long as you apologize to Nick, we’re good.

“Izzy, I—”

She held up a hand. “Maybe we should start with something else, less…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say. What did anyone ask a superstar? “What about the messy thing I saw in the paper that one time?” Lame, but it was the best she could do. The close quarters were messing with her synapses.

She couldn’t read the entire look on his face, but there was something hard about his expression. “Which mess?
Because if you believe the tabloids, I’m in a few messes.”

She told herself she wouldn’t ask about his love life. Not that she cared either way. She told herself who he dated was none of her business. She wasn’t interested.
Liar. “Let’s start with your love life. To hear it told, you’re the Lothario of Malibu.”

He barked out a laugh with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Why so interested?
You jealous?”

Izzy scoffed and rolled her eyes.
Then wondered if the effect was too much. “What do I care about your love life? Though you took a ridiculous interest in mine.”

Jason only shrugged. “I need a break from dating and the whole scene.”

A break? Izzy could only imagine what it must be like to have a social calendar so full she needed a break. “What? You need a break from the throng of beautiful women?”

As if recalling his question about Simon, he quirked his lips into a wry smile. “The only people’s happiness most of those women care about is their own. Take
Cienna for example. I’m pretty sure her publicist leaked rumors of the impending nuptials. It ups her status with the tabloids.”

For a moment, with the shadow on his face, there was a vulnerability she couldn’t place. She hoped she’d never know what it felt like to have
herself used as a means to get ahead. “I’m sorry, I’d hate to be used like that.”

He shrugged as if unfazed. “It’s a game we all play. The press can act as life-giving nectar, or they can rip your foundation out with a jackhammer. It’s just how it is.”

She nodded as if she understood, though Izzy was so far removed from the world of the rich and famous it was laughable. “Is that what happened with you and your trainer? Did he jackhammer at your foundation?”

He looked shocked, and she rushed to add, “I have a tendency for prying. So tell me to shut up if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“No. It’s okay. Michaels was a good trainer for a while. But then he got greedy like a lot of people do. Before I knew it, he’d do anything to win. Couldn’t stick by a losing horse.”

“I’m sorry he lost confidence in you. But he’ll be sorry in the end.”

“Don’t be so quick to pick sides. How do you know I’m not a losing horse?”

She shrugged. “I just know.”

Something flashed in his eyes, and she adjusted the angle of her camera and took the shot. Instinctively, she knew that was the one photo she’d request for the cover. The combination of regret, gratitude and determination was powerful.

He cleared his throat. “One minute I’m on my way back to the top. The next, I’m parting ways with my
longtime trainer. Everyone thinks I’m nuts, but I couldn’t work with the guy anymore. Not after what he did. It’s all about to blow up in my face probably. Then it’s bye-bye to my career.”

He looked haunted. Izzy resisted the urge to touch and comfort him. “I doubt it. You always manage to come out on top. When you want to, you work harder than anybody I’ve ever seen. Everybody will see that come Wimbledon.”

His expression was self-deprecating. “I don’t know about that. They would prefer the bad boy stay the bad boy. I’d mess with their world view if I stopped acting like—what did you call me? Oh yeah, an overindulged child. Now they’ll see me as the guy that ruined several careers.”

The vulnerability in his eyes had her snapping away.

“Everyone knows what kind of talent you have, your strength, agility. That’s what will matter in the end. No matter what anyone says or what they write about you. What you do on the court is what matters. If you can leave the other stuff behind and focus.”

His smile was sad. She wanted to say more, but she heard the faint sound of a ringing phone. The PA called from the kitchen. “Miss Connors? Your manager is on the phone.

She did her best not to roll her eyes, but she was only half successful. “I’ll call him back.”

Jason inclined his head in question, but she ignored it. The inquisitive look was immediately replaced with a rakish smile. All traces of earlier vulnerability gone. “Let’s talk more about my strength and agility.”

That was the Jason she remembered, the one always trying to tease a smile out of her.

Once she had all the shots she needed, he helped her pack up her lenses and equipment. The PA and makeup artist left the house first and drove off in the second van.

Jason walked her to the car carrying all her equipment, refusing to let her carry anything. “Jason, don’t be ridiculous, I can carry my own equipment.”

“I know. I’m working at my chivalry. Let me see how it feels, okay?”

“Fine, do as you like.” She said fine, but what she wanted was to get out of Dodge as quickly as possible. The moment they were alone, she felt the tension spark between them. She didn’t need him to be nice to her. When he was nice, she remembered they’d been friends. And forgot that he’d broken her heart.

She climbed into the beat up Corolla. “Let me know if you have any questions about the photos.”

He cleared his throat and hesitated before he closed the driver’s door for her. “Izzy, I’m really sorry about the other night. Please let me make it up.”

Shit
. Why did he have to look so sexy in that black shirt? “I—you know what, Jason, no harm no foul. It’s already forgotten.” Maybe he’d let it go.

“Then let me take you out for dinner?”

She didn’t need this. She didn’t need the sweet Jason she remembered. She didn’t need him to be vulnerable and nice and sexy. “I don’t think so. It’s probably best if we keep the past in the past, you know?”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but refrained. He stepped back from the car and returned to his front steps.

Ready to be back in the safety of her sanity, Izzy turned the key. The ignition clicked but didn’t catch. “Oh please, oh please, oh please,” she muttered under her breath and sent up a fast prayer, frantically wondering where she was going to find a mechanic in the middle of Malibu.

She turned the key again with another prayer. Click.

Concerned, Jason came down from his perch on the front steps. “You’re going to need a ride, huh?”

“I’ll just call a tow truck and a mechanic. I don’t think the last van is too far away, they can come back and pick me up.”

His gaze was concerned. “You don’t like to rely on anyone do you, Izzy?”

“I—
uhm…” She couldn’t tell him it was the safest way to avoid disappointment. She needed a good reason to decline his offer, other than the fact she didn’t want to be in a confined space with him. Other than the fact she didn’t trust her emotions when she was near him. Other than the fact his scent made her want to do things she’d only read about in romance novels. Other than those reasons, she couldn’t offer up one.

His voice was even. “I’ll move your stuff to my car. Let me get my keys, and I’ll take you home.”

Even though another prayer was probably a hopeless cause, she sent one up anyway. 
Dear God. Please don’t let me act like a fool with this man.

Chapter
Twelve

Tension, thick and sexual, filled the space between them. Jason considered rolling down a window to let some air in, but the night was too chilly. The drive from Malibu to Pasadena took longer than normal, thanks to traffic. And he felt every moment of it. For the first time, Jason noticed the claustrophobic effects of the car, as the endless seconds ticked by.

He slid Izzy a glance. Her rigid posture said she wasn’t thrilled about the close quarters either. The Porsche wasn’t big enough for all of her equipment, so he’d promised to chauffeur over the rest tomorrow.

She seemed content not to talk much, but the way he figured it, they couldn’t sit in the car in silence for the next few hours. The trip up the coast, under normal circumstances, only took an hour. But given the congested brake lights, it would take at least two to get her home.

He was normally comfortable with no chatter, but the heavy silence made him feel as though they were sluicing in a sea of tension.

He needed to say something. Anything. He forced his body to obey the command. But in that moment where his lips followed the order his soul betrayed him and spilled out the last words he wanted her to hear. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you.” 
Damn. Where had that come from?

Out of the corner of eyes, he saw Izzy shift her body, angling her knees away from him toward the passenger door. Desperation etched her profile. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

His brain worked for a way to retract his statement, anything to keep from going into it, but he figured the damning words were already out. 
No use keeping the rest of it in
. “I know you think I left and never looked back.” He paused and drew in a breath, letting it ebb out of him slow and steady as he silently counted. 
One, two, three. One, two, three.
 “And in some ways it’s true. But I thought about you—a lot. At the time, I thought I had a good reason.”

She turned her head and gave him a view of her elegant curved neck as she looked out the window.
“Right.”

“Look, I know I was an ass.
Immature for leaving like that. Everything you could call me, I’ve already called myself. It was a stupid decision, and I would reverse it if I could.”

She whipped her head around to face him, dashboard lights reflecting in her eyes. “What? What could have been so important?” Then she shook her head and turned back to the window. “Forget it. It’s not important. It was so long ago.”

“I owe you an explanation. I always felt bad about how I walked out on you.”

“What? Why?
Between Sabrina and the girls on the tour? I’m sure you never gave another thought to the pathetic girl that had a crush on you.”

He muttered a curse. “I never thought you were pathetic.”

Her derisive scoff boomed in the tight space. “Really? Because Sabrina told me all about how you laughed at me.”

“That’s a lie,” he spat. “I never laughed at you.”

“Why would she lie?”

The vise around his heart tightened around its captive. “Because that’s what Sabrina does.
Because she’s a master manipulator. Because she thought I was in love with you.”

****