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lounging back in easy comfort and gazing at her with expectation.
    Lisa cleared her throat. “I thought about everything last night.”
    “While you were with the other dude?”
    Why did he keep pressing her on that? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was jealous. “No, after I got home,” she lied.
    “Mmmm.” His fingers tapped the tabletop. “When was that, exactly?”
    Exasperated, Lisa gave him a long look that showed her impatience with his attempts at prying.
    Hart held up both hands. “Sorry.” He tipped his head to watch her. “So after prolonged consideration, what did you decide?”
    “I accept your explanation about being busy and out of touch. I overreacted, I think, in getting annoyed that you hadn’t called back.” She fiddled with the teacup. “Truth is, I realize things are different for you.”
    One eyebrow lifted. “Different?”
    Lisa gestured. “Most people return phone calls as a matter of common courtesy. But I assume you get a lot of calls from a lot of women—Hart Winston, you can wipe that smug grin right off your face.”
    He laughed. “I’m sorry, but you’re cute.”
    “Now you’re just being condescending.” Her appearance had improved with the shower and clean clothes, but she’d deliberately left herself as plain as possible. Nothing cute in that.
    He leaned forward. “No, I mean it. You’re so damn nice all the time that you’re even willing to make up excuses for me.”
    “You’re saying you don’t have women calling all the time?”
    Almost as if on cue, his phone rang.
    They locked eyes. Hart winced; Lisa sighed.
    “Answer it.”
    Chagrined, he glanced at the number and shook his head. “Ah, no. It’s not important.”
    Unbelievable. “That was a woman, wasn’t it?”
    He hesitated. “Yes?”
    “You don’t know?”
    “It feels like a trick question.”
    Of all the idiotic . . . “My point is,” Lisa said, determined to get this over with, “you probably thought I was trying to hit on you after we’d both agreed that our time together was a one-shot deal.”
    “Not really, no.”
    Her head started to spin. “What does that mean?”
    “It means that you’re wrong, that I didn’t blow off your calls, assuming you wanted another go-around. It’s just that I really was busy with a training camp and—”
    His phone rang again. Apologetic, Hart glanced at the number, then put the phone back down without answering.
    Lisa’s teeth clicked together. “Is there a reason you don’t just turn it off, seeing as you don’t answer anyway?”
    “There’s a reason.” He sipped his coffee before answering, then met her annoyed gaze. “Family has this number, as do some of the fight promoters and my training coach.”
    “I see.” Apparently everyone was more important than the women he dated.
    Lisa wanted to throw her tea at him, but she refrained.
    He wedged a hand into his jeans pocket, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew a card. He slid it across the table to her. “I don’t think I ever gave you my cell number.”
    No, he hadn’t. She’d had only his apartment number and the number she’d found for his cousin Joe. “Thank you, but I no longer have any reason to call you.” And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Not that you’d answer anyway, right?”
    He looked far too serious when he said, “If you call me, Lisa, I’ll answer. I swear.”
    That rattled her. She didn’t understand him or why he said the things he did.
    His card lay on the table between them.
    “So . . . to get back to the point here. I realize now that I overreacted. Getting angry with you serves no purpose at all.”
    He slouched a little more. “And?”
    “I’m happy to share with you what I overheard.”
    “No kidding?”
    She nodded. “You’re right. I don’t want any injury to you to be on my conscience.”
    His brows pinched. “And that’s it? Your conscience is the only reason you’re willing to warn me?”
    “What else