Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,25

runaway calf.

There was never going to be a good time to tell him how she felt. It was always going to be risky. For years, she’d been afraid of losing him if she told him. That he might be appalled, and things would get awkward between them. That the friendship would be ruined.

But, it seemed like that was where the relationship was right now. Avoiding each other. Feeling awkward. What did she have to lose? What was she waiting for?

Shaking with urgency and nerves, she dried off, got dressed and hopped in her Mustang. She fought Saturday night traffic, all the while second-guessing her decision.

What if he laughed at her? Or worse, what if he let her down gently and pitied her?

Maybe he wouldn’t be home. After all, it was eleven o’clock on a Saturday night. But Mitch was still honoring his thirty days of celibacy. And besides, she knew all the places he’d hang out anyway. She could find him if she had to.

Turned out there was no need. His Jeep was parked out front of his apartment. Forcing her hands to unclench from the steering wheel, Alex got out and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. You can do this, Hughes.

The closer she got to his door, the more shallow her breathing became. She couldn’t draw in air. This could put the last nail in the coffin of their friendship. Turning around, she headed for her car. She was such a wimp.

No. She stopped so fast her sneakers squeaked. It was either this or live in limbo-land forever.

Drawing in a long, deep breath, she spun on her heel, marched up to his door and knocked. After the longest minute of her life, the door swung open.

Mitch was in a pair of low-riding jeans and nothing more. His chiseled chest made her pulse race. She got caught in the contours of muscles and flat brown nipples, and light dusting of blond hair, and couldn’t look anywhere else. How sad was that?

“Hughes?”

The odor of liquor wafted from his breath and she finally met his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair rumpled.

Oh, Mitch. What are you doing to yourself? If only she could help him see that life could be so wonderful. He wanted love? It was standing right in front of him. She drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth… Her gaze shifted to the football game on his 55-inch flat-screen television. “Who’s winning?” She pushed past him and stood behind his brown leather sofa.

Mitch shut the door, but didn’t move into the room. “Tennessee. Seven to six.”

“Which quarter?” Maybe she’d just watch the game first before getting into anything serious. She went to the fridge, helped herself to a beer and took a seat on his couch the way she’d done hundreds of times before.

Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “What are you doing here, Hughes?”

Alex froze, the beer halfway to her lips. He’d never questioned her presence in his place before. Never spoken to her in such a defensive tone.

She leaned forward and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He was right. They couldn’t pretend everything was okay. Couldn’t go back to the way things were before. “I wanted—” She bit her lip. Just say it, Hughes. Tell him you love him. What’s the worst that can happen? It took all her courage to stand and face him. The words were on the tip of her tongue as she looked up into his baby-blue eyes. What she saw there shut her down. Impatience. Irritation. And a quick glance down the hall.

So, not only did their last kiss not inspire any deeper feelings for her, but her transformation had been too much for him. He either resented her for the prank, or resented her for becoming a woman in his eyes. Her vision became jittery, her face flamed in humiliation.

“Never mind.” She bolted for the door. When he didn’t try to stop her, she paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.

His gaze met hers but not before she noticed he’d been staring down the hall at his bedroom door. Which—she checked—was shut. Oh. My. God. She strode down to his bedroom.

“Alex, wait.” He grabbed her arm, but she wrenched it away and opened his door.

There, in the middle of the room stood a tall, voluptuous blonde in a sequined, strapless showgirl costume.

Alex glared daggers at Mitch. “But you’re supposed to be—”

Mitch grimaced.

“You bastard!” Alex shoved her palms into