As soon as I was certain she wasn't going to take off like she had fifteen minutes ago when I first showed up on her doorstep.
I took a cautious step forward, then another, moving closer but stopping before I got too close, just in case Addy decided to make a mad dash for it. But she remained where she was, her expression too serene and too damn polite.
"Nathan. What a pleasant surprise."
Pleasant? Somehow, I doubted that. And no matter what kind of mask she had decided to wear, it wasn't good enough to hide the discomfort and uncertainty flashing in the depths of her eyes. Her gaze briefly met mine, slid away, then skittered back.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here."
I swallowed back a bark of laughter. "That makes two of us."
She nodded, twisted her fingers together then absently smoothed her palms along the front of her dress. It was a simple off-the-shoulder dress that hugged her generous curves before swirling out around her knees. The shimmery dark gold complemented her dark coloring and smooth skin and I had to swallow the insane urge to step closer and pull the front of the dress up higher to hide the swell of flesh peeking over the top. Yeah, because that would go over with no problem at all.
I curled my hands into fists and shoved them deeper into my pockets then motioned toward the house with a lame-ass nod. "So. This is where you live."
She glanced at the expansive house and the lush gardens and fountain—a real damn fountain, for shit's sake—then turned back to me. I could have sworn it was embarrassment I saw staining her cheeks. "All my life. It's been in the family since the 1860s."
I looked at the house again, trying to imagine what it must have been like growing up in something so damn big. In some place with such deep roots. I hadn't seen much of the inside yet—I'd been too busy chasing after Addy—but I'd seen enough. The place was like a museum, filled with antiques and heirlooms going back more than a hundred-and-sixty years.
Only it wasn't a museum—it was where Addy had grown up. Where she lived.
"I didn't know you played for the Bourdons."
I swallowed back the bitter taste of sudden inadequacy, angry with myself for feeling it for even a split second, and focused on the question masked as a simple observation. On the rhythmic cadence of her soft voice and the way the ridiculous team name sounded when she said it, like it was something rich and rare and enchanting instead of a stupid-ass constipated bumblebee.
"I didn't know you were the owner's daughter." My words hung in the heavy air between us, the accusation beneath them silent. Or maybe not so silent because Addy's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch as she stared at me. I sensed the anger simmering just below her poised surface, winced at the biting sharpness of her next words.
"I guess you would have known if you had bothered to ask my last name."
"I wasn't the one who insisted on not exchanging information."
She took a small step back, almost like she'd been slapped. Regret immediately filled me and I stepped closer, pulling my hand free to reach for her.
"Addy—"
"No, you're right." Her expression cleared and a bright smile as fake as the design of the Bourdons' gold lamé logo curled her full mouth. "I'm sure it doesn't really matter now."
"The hell it doesn't."
She waved one well-manicured hand through the air between us, dismissing my low growl. "No, it really doesn't. Now if you'll excuse me—"
"Addy, wait." I caught her hand with mine, stopping her before she could turn and leave. Her trembling fingers curled around mine and I felt the cool dampness of her flesh and I knew, in that brief second, that her careful aloofness was nothing more than an act. She was as unsettled by this—whatever this was—as I was. Then she yanked her hand free and watched me with dark eyes that gave nothing away.
"How's your face?"
"My face is fine." I forced the words from between clenched teeth, rising to her well-timed bait in spite of myself. Her quick grin did nothing to soothe my ego.
"Jacqui sometimes forgets just how strong she really is."
"Yeah, I'll just bet." Was she expecting me to say something else? To ask questions or pass judgment? Too damn bad if she was because that wasn't happening.
Or maybe she'd meant it as a test of some kind because her shoulders relaxed just the smallest bit when I refused to say anything else. Her smile grew just a little wider and she shrugged. "Well, I'm glad there was no lasting damage done."
"About the other night—"
"What about it?"
"I didn't mean to stand you up."
"Of course you did." She softened the words with a small smile but they still stung—because they were the truth. "But it's okay, Nathan. Truly."
"I—" I hesitated, took a step closer then stopped before giving in to the temptation of pulling her into my arms. "Addy, can we go somewhere to talk?"
"About?"
"About what happened. About this." I waved a hand through the air between us. "About us."
"I don't think—"
"Please." If any of the guys heard me right now, I'd never live it down—but for reasons I didn't understand, I didn't really give a shit. I'd been tearing the Quarter apart all week looking for Addy and I needed to talk to her, if for no other reason than to apologize. Never mind that I'd just done that, it wasn't enough. I wasn't sure why that was the case but it was.
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and cautiously glanced around before shaking her head. "I'm sure Daddy is looking for me."
Daddy. The single word fell like a block of ice between us, reminding me that Addy was officially off-limits. She was the daughter of our team's owner. That more than anything else put her squarely out of my league.
At least, it would have if I had been one to pay attention to the rules.
She turned back to me, shadows I didn't understand filling her eyes before they disappeared with one blink. "Tomorrow afternoon."
I grabbed onto the offering like a drowning man gripping a lifeline. "Where?"
"The Riverwalk, near the Dumaine Street stop. One o'clock."
I opened my mouth, ready to tell her I'd be there, but she was already turning to leave. The tiny points of her high heels clicked against the walkway, the noise quickly swallowed by the sounds of the party drifting through the night air. I stood there for several minutes, long enough for Addy to disappear back into the house so it wouldn't look like I was following her.
And already making plans for tomorrow, convincing myself we could pick up right where we left off.
Convincing myself that not a damn thing had changed when it really had, probably in more ways than I was willing to admit.
Chapter Ten
Addy
I almost didn't make it.
Not because I didn't want to go—although, honestly, a part of me didn't—but because it was harder to sneak out of the house than I thought it would be. And sneak wasn't just an expression. I really did have to sneak out because Daddy was suddenly a lot more interested in what I was doing and where I was going than he usually was. He'd been curious last night during the party, asking me a few veiled questions about where I'd run off to so suddenly and why. I'd been expecting him to ask me if I knew Nathan—even I wasn't foolish enough to think my running off hadn't been so obvious—but he didn't. The fact that he hadn't worried me and I couldn't shake the feeling that the obvious question's omission was a sign of something else to come. A storm of some sort, maybe, much like the storm brewing on the horizon to the west.