She cracked the cover and turned her attention to the glossy pages. “You don’t know where?”

“Page thirty-two.”

She chuckled and flipped through the book. The slick paper was cool to the touch, and she thumbed through until she came to a page filled with the image of Zach in a blue-and-orange jersey with the number twelve on the front and on the big padded shoulders. A pair of tight white pants fit him like a second skin, and a white towel was tucked into his waistband and hung over his laces like a loincloth. Zach’s intense brown eyes stared out from within the face mask of his blue helmet, and his lips were flattened against his teeth. His left hip turned downfield, his right arm extended behind him, the photographer snapped the picture just before he snapped the ball forward.

“You ranked number eleven,” she said, then read out loud, “Zemaitis played the game in his head. He had the ability to see each play before it happened. He played strong and smart ball and could kill with perfect spirals and long bombs.” She turned the page to another photograph of him, standing behind the center, knees bent, head turned to one side as he called the play and waited for the snap. She read the caption to the side of the photo. “‘Girls always wanted to know what it was like to have Zach’s hands all over my butt.’-Dave Gorlinski.” She looked up at him. “Who’s Dave Gorlinski?”

“Center at UT.” He grabbed the book and tried to take it from her.

She didn’t let go and read another caption. “‘Zach Zamaitis had the most skilled hands of anyone who’s ever lined up underneath me.’-Chuck Quincy.” Adele bit her top lip to keep from laughing. “Who’s Chuck?”

“Center for the Dolphins my first three seasons.” This time he succeeded in taking the book from her. “Try not to laugh too hard,” he said, and tossed it on his desk.

“Well, it does sound kinky.”

“Honey, that’s nothin’.” He tilted his head to one side and smiled. “I could tell you stories if you’re interested in kinky.”

“No. That’s okay.” She turned her attention to the big glass case filled with everything from trophies to signed footballs and a pair of cleats. On just about every inch of the walls hung his old football jerseys encased in Plexiglas as well as plaques and photographs of Zach at various stages in his career, starting as a kid wearing shoulder pads that looked too big for his body and ending with his retirement.

“Impressive.”

He shrugged. “Devon decorated this room a year or two before she died, and I’ve just left it. It’s too crowded, but what else am I going to do with all this stuff?”

“I think you should leave it.” Adele turned to face him. “It looks good, and you should be proud of yourself. And…I’m sure since Devon…you know.” She dropped her gaze to the Moose Drool Beer on his wide chest. Think of something nice to say about Devon. “I’m sure you miss her, and it must be a comfort to come in here and see something she decorated herself. Even if it is a bit crowded.” Well, that wasn’t exactly nice, but it wasn’t exactly rude.

He chuckled without humor, and she looked up into his face. “I didn’t mean to imply that she decorated it herself. She had someone do it. Devon never did anything herself.” He lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek. “I don’t want to talk about Devon.” The tips of his fingers touched her cheek as his eyes searched her face. “I want to talk about you.”

A hot little tingle spread down the side of Adele’s neck and across her chest. It tightened her breasts and messed with her breathing. “There’s nothing to say.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded nervous even to her own ears.

“I doubt that.”

“Really.” She moved past him and headed for the door before the hot little tingle burned its way through her entire body. “I’m very boring.”

A few feet from the entrance, his hand on her arm stopped her. “Don’t pretend you’re not the least bit curious.”

“About?”

“What it would be like if I kissed you again. We’re older. Have more experience.” She refused to turn around, and he slid his hand up her arm to her shoulder. “Would it be as good as it was fourteen years ago?”

If it had been so good, why had he left her for Devon? She closed her eyes. They both knew the answer to that, but the fact that Devon had been pregnant hadn’t made it any less painful. Not for her. It didn’t hurt any longer, but there was absolutely no way she would ever get involved with him again. “No. I’m not curious. I never look back.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he pushed her hair to one side. “Would you drive me insane like you used to?” He lowered his face, and his breath warmed the side of her neck. “And honey, you drove me out of my mind.” He slid one big hand around her side to her flat stomach and pulled her back against his hard chest. “I was the first man to make love to you. I haven’t forgotten that.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“You haven’t forgotten, either.” His lips brushed her heated skin, and those hot little tingles she’d worried about spread warmth all over her body. It had been a long time since she’d felt the secure arms of a man. A long time since she’d felt the hot rush from a man’s touch flow through her and the delicious pull of lust tugging at all the right places. “I might not have thought about it in a while,” he continued, “but I haven’t forgotten that night we drove to the La Quinta off I-35. Not the best place, but not exactly a dump. I didn’t have much money back then.”

She hadn’t minded.

“We had sex at least five times.”

Seven if a person counted the next morning. She took short uneven breaths in the top of her lungs as he kissed the side of her throat. The scent of his skin filled her head, and it would have been so easy just to sink back into him. To close her eyes and just feel his big chest and arms around her. “I don’t remember,” she lied, because telling the truth would make things so much harder.

He slid his palm up the front of her hooded jacket, and her uneven breath got caught in her throat. His hand lightly skimmed across the top of her chest to her shoulder. Slowly he turned her and looked into her eyes. He smiled as his hands slipped to the side of her head, and he plowed his fingers into her hair. He tilted her face up, and her lips parted. “Liar,” he said just above a whisper, then he lowered his face and kissed her. A light teasing brush of his firm lips. A wet smear across her mouth, and she stood perfectly still.

“This is much more fun if you participate,” he whispered.

She stood still while every nerve ending in her body screamed at her to grab him by the ears and participate the hell out of him. To let him make her feel good, to mold herself against him and use him to satisfy her hunger and need like a succubus, but she knew better. Nothing good would ever come out of kissing Zach. Sometimes the price of satisfaction was too high.

She wrapped her hands around his wrists and took a step back. “I can’t do this,” she said. “This can’t happen again.”

His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a deep breath. He looked down at her through narrowed lids. “It’s going to happen, Adele. If not now, another time.”

He looked so sure, her mouth got suddenly dry and she shook her head. “No, Zach. Not with you. Not ever.” She couldn’t breathe around him and walked out of the office like demons were nipping at her heels.

The next few minutes were a blur of restless nerves and raw emotion. Adele pleaded a splitting headache, which wasn’t a huge stretch from the truth, and Cindy Ann volunteered to drop Kendra off at home after the party. As she drove from the gated community, she called Sherilyn and told her sister that she and Kendra would be in later that evening.

Once she was home, shut safely inside Sherilyn’s condo, she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Zach was wrong. Nothing was going to happen between them. Ever.

She moved through the entry to the kitchen and set her purse on the granite counter. Before Sherilyn had gotten ill, she’d been in the process of painting the mostly beige kitchen a cheery yellow. As a result, the kitchen walls were painted halfway down.

Adele took the extra house key out of a bowl in the cupboard and tied it to the string of her sweatpants. Like everything else about the sisters, Adele’s tastes were the total opposite. She preferred white walls and colorful furnishings while Sherilyn preferred color on the walls and subdued furnishings.

She grabbed a scrunchie off the counter and pulled her thick hair into a ponytail as she walked back out of the house and locked the door behind her. She’d jogged earlier, but she didn’t know what else to do with the restless energy humming through her veins. Her head really was starting to ache, and she didn’t want to think about Zach.

She stepped from the porch and took off at a familiar, even pace. The steady beat of her heart and the routine rhythm of her feet were usually a comfort, but today it was as if her past was riding her heels. She couldn’t outrun it, and it caught up to her at the corner of Crockett and Third. Her feet slowed at the bus stop near the corner and she took a seat on the hard bench advertising Tina’s Taco-rama. An old truck with a red bone hound in the back drove past, stirring up the leaves on the road and rattling the cool air with its busted tailpipe.

Would you drive me insane like you used to? he’d said as he’d lowered his face to the side of her neck. And honey, you drove me out of my mind.

She’d driven them both insane. Him because she hadn’t jumped in bed with him, like every other girl on the UT campus, the first time he kissed her. Her because she’d wanted to wait until she’d been sure she loved him, and he loved her, too. She’d waited a whole month. A short time that had felt like forever. Looking back, she couldn’t say that he’d pressured her to have sex. Not unless she counted the way he’d kissed her. So hot and intense he’d left her breathless. And not unless she counted the way he’d touched her. Slow and unhurried, a light teasing stroke to her stomach and breasts, he’d driven her crazy until all she could think about was feeling his hands on her. She’d wanted to feel her hands on him, too.