SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(43)

As he walked away, he felt like an idiot for refusing someone he was certain he could have in pursuit of a woman who was not even interested in him. He brightened, however, when he thought of all the naughty things he would do to her when he had her to himself. He would not rest until she was completely his, but one thing was sure: to have her, he would have to change his rules of engagement.

***

Chance spent the night tossing and turning in his bed until the heat made it impossible to stay there. He had deliberately chosen the room across the courtyard from Claire, unknown to her, of course. He went out on the balcony and stared across, gritting his teeth at his temporary defeat.

He could see the pale light on the horizon telling him that morning was fast approaching, and he went back into the room and pulled on a pair of running shorts. In two swift motions he was dressed in a white tee as well as his sneakers. Maybe a morning jog would give him some perspective and a different angle to figure out Claire. That was his goal when he left the room, but an hour later he had achieved only sweat and no clarity.

Back in his room, he ripped the towel from the bar in anger and went back out to the balcony. The sun was peeping over the horizon, and he saw movement inside her room. He stepped back behind the curtains so she couldn’t see him, and he watched as she stepped outside with her towel in hand, rubbing her damp hair. Her face was serene, and she wore a smile and a robe; he grew hard just watching her. Chance inwardly cursed her for the effect she had on him; an effect she refused to acknowledge.

As if she was aware of his presence, she looked directly at him and her hands stopped moving. He stepped further into the shadows, but when he stuck his head out again, she was gone. He sighed. This was stupid. A grown man like him acting like a child. He had to get a grip on himself, he thought, as he decided to go down for breakfast.

He was just pouring himself a cup of coffee while he waited for his breakfast when he saw Claire and Amy coming down the stairs. The cup froze on its way to his lips as he watched them, and the pair of eyes he was least interested in found him.

“Chance,” Amy called with a wave.

But his eyes were on Claire, who gave him an odd look and a half-smile and walked to a table. Apparently, she didn’t care about him, and he hated being at a disadvantage. He waved at Amy, who was walking towards him.

“Hi, Amy,” he said, his eyes still glued on Claire.

“Would you like to join us?” she asked, pointing to their table.

Had it been just Amy, he would have refused. But he accepted any invitation that brought him closer to the woman who made him feel something he had never experienced before: rejection.

“Sure,” he said as he followed her to the table where Claire sat, but Claire didn’t seem at all pleased to see him.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said as he pulled the chair out for Amy, then sat between her and Claire.

“Maybe you should eat at another table,” Claire said as she stuck her knife aggressively into the omelet.

“Claire!” Amy looked at her, appalled, and kicked her under the table. “You’re being rude.”

“Rude? I’m just enjoying my breakfast.”

“That’s not new,” he said to her, and Amy looked at the two of them.

“What?” Claire asked, her tone raised.

“I’m just being honest,” Chance only smiled and dug into his omelet. “So, how’re you enjoying your trip so far?”

“It’s been great,” Amy responded. “You know, I haven’t yet explored the island the way I want to. Maybe you should take me around. And we could have dinner maybe?”

Chance looked at her, unsure how to respond. Her suggestion was rather awkward with everyone sitting there, but hey, at least she was forward. More than he could say for her friend. Maybe it was time he made Claire just a little jealous.

“Dinner would be nice.” He smiled at her and looked sideways at Claire, who didn’t even show the slightest inkling of emotion to him agreeing to dinner with Amy.

Nothing much was said after that throughout breakfast, except when he thanked them for entertaining him and left. He had to get away from them, from her, before she drove him mad. He had never come across a woman who had walls so high he couldn’t breach them, and it unnerved him. For the entire day, he searched the annals of his mind to figure out what made her tick. He came up empty. She was a mystery to him.

She was still on his mind when he met Amy later that night at the same restaurant for dinner. He had bought her flowers, as he always did on a first date. But he wasn’t interested in wooing her, or for that matter breaking her heart. She was a beautiful woman, but she was too easy.

“You look lovely,” he said to Amy as he kissed her hand.

“Thanks.”

“Here,” he said as he offered her a seat.

After a few minutes of conversation with Amy doing most of the talking, they fell into an awkward silence until Amy spoke.

“How bad is it?” she asked. “Your food. You’re picking at it.”

“Huh? Oh,” he said, glancing down at his food. “It’s alright, I guess.”

“You make it look like prison food,” she laughed.

“How would you know what prison food tastes like?” he asked, smiling. Amy laughed at his joke. “Glad I made you laugh,” he said, laughing along.