Read Online French Kissing (Restless Hearts) by Hunter J. Keane - Free Book Online

you up to?” I took a seat on a metal park bench, watching the lunch crowd pass by. It was another beautiful Parisian day.
    “Getting ready for hitting practice.”
    I was disappointed. “Darn. Guess that means we can’t stand in line at the Louvre for four hours together.”
    “Ha.” He quickly asked, “Why don’t you come?”
    “To your practice? Why?”
    “So that you can see me, of course.” He sighed like he was annoyed that he even had to explain it. “You play tennis, don’t you?”
    I started to understand what he was really asking. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not playing tennis with you.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because you are the number one professional tennis player in the world, and I’m ranked second on a mediocre college team. If I wanted to feel bad about myself, I would spend the day with a group of French models.”
    “Please. Stop being silly.” He said, “I’m sending you the address. See you in an hour.”
    Before I knew what was happening, the phone went dead.
    Reluctantly, I headed home to change into something athletic and took a cab to the address he sent me. I was certain it was a terrible idea, but I did want to see Jake, even if it meant making a fool out of myself.
    When I stepped out of the cab, I hesitated across the street from the Athletic Club, taking a few deep breaths and catching a whiff of flowers from the floral shop to my left. Shoulders back, I crossed the street and entered the club.
    Jake was waiting for me just inside the door, wearing hot pink shorts and a big smile. “I thought you were going to chicken out.”
    “Me? Never.” I made big eyes at him. “Nice shorts. They let you get away with that here?”
    “I’m their prized customer. I can wear whatever I want.” He nodded down the hall. “You ready to do this?”
    “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
    Jake made a quick stop to borrow a women’s racquet and then he was leading me onto a private court.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” I teased.
    My first hit was clumsy, my swing uneven. The ball went flying over Jace’s head. He ignored it, calmly reaching into his pocket for another ball. My second swing was better- not awesome, but decent.
    Within a couple of minutes, I had loosened up completely and was performing like the mediocre college tennis player I so proudly strived to be.
    “Not bad, Ace,” Jake yelled as I slammed a winner past him.
    “For a girl, you mean?” I used the side of my foot against the racquet to scoop up a ball without bending down. Feeling flirty, I asked, “So you are impressed by my stroke?”
    “I was talking about your legs, actually. Not bad.” He gave me a pointed look. “Your stroke isn’t bad either, from what I can see.”
    We were rudely interrupted by the door to the court swinging open. A tall man appeared, not looking the slightest bit sorry for the intrusion.
    “Wellington. Put down the racquet and let’s go get pissed!” He froze, spotting me for the first time. “Well, hello.”
    “Hi.” I squinted, trying to place where I had seen the man. “Merrick Cohen?”
    “My reputation precedes me, I see.” He turned back to Jake. “What did you tell her about me?”
    Jake approached the net. “Nothing. I prefer not to talk about you at all as I have a very weak constitution when it comes to vile things.”
    “Hilarious.” Merrick’s eyes hardened. “I wasn’t aware that you were on a date. Should I count you out for drinks?”
    Jake started to say yes, but I stopped him.
    “We’d love a drink.”
    Okay, I was being obnoxious. It was pretty clear that Jake didn’t want to go, and it was even clearer that Merrick didn’t want me to go. But Merrick Cohen was the most infamous tennis player in the world. He was constantly in the tabloids for his affairs with actresses, drunken tirades in LA nightclubs, and his childish and volatile antics on the court. He was utterly fascinating and I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to spend time