Chapter 24
ENTOURAGE
THEO WALKS OFF into the crowd, swept up by a group of people who greet him like the celebrity he is. That’s the beauty of Theo. He can be all business when he wants to be. No strings attached.
Henry places a hand on Evan’s shoulder, says something that looks like an excuse, and heads straight toward me the second Theo’s out of sight.
I let out a sigh.
Robbie and Gemma aren’t dancing anymore. They’re cozied up on a sofa in the lounge area. Now clearly more than tipsy, Robbie is resting his head on her shoulder, talking. She laughs at whatever he’s saying.
Dad’s across the room, deep in conversation with a group of men that includes Drew.
Henry stops in front of me. He’s in a black suit and a crisp white button-down, slightly undone. His hair’s messy in that intentional way, and he smells like cedarwood with a splash of citrus and something I can’t name, but it’s making my knees weak.
For a second, I forget to breathe.
There’s something about him tonight, something untouchable. He’s beautiful in the kind of devastating way that sneaks up on you. Like you’ve seen it a hundred times before, but it still hits you like the first.
My stomach tightens.
“Are you done with your games?” Henry says through his teeth the moment he steps in front of me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. He’s beyond furious. And for once, I don’t find it amusing.
“I’m not playing games.”
A lie.
Kind of.
I was playing games, but that was yesterday. I regret the texts about Theo, sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Henry. I’m not blind to the way he shuts me out while pretending he doesn’t, either.
He finally admitted yesterday that he’s injured but told me to “trust him” and drop it. As if he didn’t know me. I don’t drop things.
I can’t deal. And clearly, neither can he.
Not anymore.
Henry’s posture and the way his jaw works with restraint give him away. He wants me. I can see it now in the deepening blue of his gaze, in the way he studies my dress, my face, and how hard he’s trying to reel it all in. To hide his reactions. But he’s failing.
Miserably.
Finally.
And it’s still not enough. Not when we both know he’s hiding something from me. Not when he still won’t trust me with it. It makes me want to lose my mind.
“So why let him kiss you?” His voice is low and controlled but blazing on the edges. “When you knew I was standing there. Watching you.”
I can’t help but snort as a weak, nervous laugh escapes me.
“Don’t you dare laugh.” He’s using his coach voice, and it’s snapping me into automatic submission.
“You’re making me nervous,” I shoot back. “And I wasn’t aware that you were watching.”
Theo kissed me. Not the other way around. It was nothing but a calculated move that hovered too close to my lips, but I didn’t let it go any further. It wasn’t intimate or reciprocated, even if it read differently from afar.
If Henry was watching, he must’ve seen how quickly I recoiled from it. Not that the nuance matters. He saw what he saw, and he’s pissed. I’m not about to explain myself, either.
“Oh, you didn’t see me,” he says sarcastically, nearly spitting the words. “That clears everything up.”
Henry scrubs a hand down his jaw, exasperated, finally looking away and giving me a few seconds to catch my breath.
“What the hell do you want from me, Henry?”
He knows how I feel about him. It’s not like I’ve been discreet. I’ve been quiet, sure, but that’s not the same. And I’ll admit to my complete inability to hide how I react to his presence. Not since he came back.
He shakes his head and rakes his lower lip with his teeth.
Long seconds pass as he stands there, staring into my eyes, still refusing to say what I know is sitting right on the tip of his tongue.
It’s like he’s starting to face how he feels, but there’s this steel wall he’s built around him.
To protect himself from something invisible.
And for some reason, his silence makes me feel like I’m the threat.
Maybe I am the threat, and if so … then so be it.
“Coward,” I mutter, turning to leave. But he catches my hands before I can escape, pulling me back in.
Something in Henry’s expression shifts. It softens.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes like he’s gathering his thoughts, like he might finally say something.
At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. He doesn’t let go.
Instead, he tightens his grip and slowly laces his fingers through mine, still quiet.
Still unreadable, except for his eyes. They’re saying everything he won’t.
He brings my hands to his chest, right above his heart. He gives me a faint, bittersweet smile, one that answers the question I threw at him just moments ago without uttering a single word.
Our gazes lock, and I melt under the weight of his attention. Henry finally parts his lips to speak and drops my hands, taking a step back. Panic flashes across his face as his eyes fix on something just above my head.
“Henry!” Dad roars from behind me.
Shit.
Henry’s jaw tightens as he nods sharply in my dad’s direction.
“Hey, Joe,” he says, his voice low and worn as he slides his hands into his pockets.
“Could you give me a hand with Robbie?” Dad asks, his brows drawn tight. “He’s in no condition to be here. Just look at him! He’s embarrassing himself. I’d take him back to the hotel myself, but I still need to speak to a few people before I can leave.”
Henry exhales a relieved breath and says, “Of course, Joe. I’m on it.”
I turn to look at Robbie, who’s now attempting a sluggish, ridiculous dance in front of Gemma.
She watches from her seat, smiling, though it’s hard to tell if it’s out of amusement or sheer secondhand embarrassment.
When she starts tugging at his arm to get him to sit down, I lean toward the latter.
It’s time for Robbie to call it a night.
“Thanks, son. I appreciate it.” Dad pats Henry on the back and turns to me as I suppress a wince at the son bit. “Drew needs you. The reps from Neel Ultex want to congratulate you. Make sure to thank them for the birthday gifts and let the media grab a few photos of you three while you’re at it.”
“I will,” I reply with a forced smile. I know how important it is to show up for the sponsors, to smile for the cameras, and play the part. It’s part of the job. But if I had it my way, I’d be in my hotel room, floating in the bathtub with my headphones on, trying to clear my head.
“I’ll let Robbie know it’s time to turn in,” Dad says before heading in his direction.
Henry looks away, dragging a rough hand through his hair and down the back of his neck.
“Henry?” I murmur through the bustle of the cocktail party.
He glances at me from the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching to the side. I can see how he’s retreating. He was just holding my hands to his chest, smiling at me like he finally had something to say. He was about to speak before my dad showed up.
Please. Just say something. Anything.
If my eyes could talk, they’d be begging. And I hate myself for it. For falling right back into feeling like I need Henry just to take a full breath. The kind that fills your lungs to the brim and gives you a moment of peace.
I was fine before he came back. I was fine without him.
Was I?
His gaze softens, but he’s shaking his head slowly and regretfully.
“We can’t … not like this.” His voice is barely a whisper, like he hates the words even as he says them. “Not yet.”
I nod once, expecting that answer, but still upset. “Why?”
“Joe—your dad. He almost—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” I turn to leave. I have things to take care of, and I’m too fed up with the drama to pretend otherwise. It makes me feel like I’m not in control, and feeling in control is crucial at an event like this.
Equally irritated and heartbroken, I remind myself to keep my zen and remain focused on tomorrow’s match. This is useless. Pointless.
“Bells,” Henry says, grabbing my arm to stop me. I glance over my shoulder, my eyes landing on his hand. He lets go. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“A conversation consists of two people exchanging complete sentences and ideas,” I say with a scowl. “Besides, you need to take Robbie back to the hotel. And it seems like you’ve run out of things to say.”
“I haven’t. I want to talk to you, just … not here. Not now,” he says, glancing toward where my dad stands talking to Robbie in the near distance. “I’ll come by your room once I’ve made sure Robbie’s safe and sound. We’ll talk. I promise.”
“Fine,” I say, defeated. “I just need to talk to my sponsors before I head back.”
The emotional whiplash from this conversation is finally catching up to me.
I need to get off this ride.
My neck and trapezius are stiffening. I’ll need a couple of heat patches tonight.
“You are impossible to walk away from,” Henry murmurs in my ear, his hand finding my waist with a firmer grip than usual, like he needs to hold on for one more second.
He leans in and presses a soft kiss on my cheek. Gentle, but loaded.
“If I stay any longer, I won’t be able to leave.” And just like that, he turns and walks off to rescue Robbie from further humiliating himself.
A smile pulls at my lips. I let the warmth linger for half a second before I shove it away.
Not tonight.
After a simple nod to myself, I set my mind on finding Drew.
Gemma joined me after Henry left with Robbie, who didn’t put up a fight. He’s not the type to. Exhaustion, alcohol, and jet lag don’t mix well. Gemma looks drained too, but I know she’s sticking around to keep me company, and I’m grateful for it.
I’m almost done with the pleasantries and more than ready to head back to the hotel.
There are only so many hugs I can give in one day.
I know it’s my birthday, but it gets overwhelming.
There are too many faces and names I feel like I should remember, and not being able to do so is making me anxious.
“Drew, I’m done,” I whisper, the words slipping out more like a plea than a statement. Gemma just started yawning. It would be cruel to keep her here any longer. “I need to rest for tomorrow.”
“Give me … one … second,” he says, lifting a finger as his eyes sweep the crowd, searching for someone.
I reply with a few slow nods because what else is there for me to do?
I know damn well this is part of the job.
My sponsors cover everything, so the least I can do is show up at these events and follow through. But enough is enough.
Looking around, I realize Zoya is nowhere to be found. Evan King left right after Henry did. Go figure. I can’t have her off somewhere recharging while I’m still here working overtime. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to leave, even if it’s still early.
Theo is being photographed alongside a few other tennis players near the terrace. He’s still holding a glass of water and flashing that charming smile. But he’s got nothing to worry about. He’s one of the best out there. He’ll crush it on the court tomorrow. No doubt about that.
I’m sure I’ll be fine, too. It’s not that I’m worried, exactly. I’m just anxious about going against Evan, mostly because of Henry’s history with her sister Madison.
This is why I avoid getting to know people, making friends, or mingling too much on tour. It’s better not to know your opponents on a personal level. It only throws off your headspace. Or mine, at least.
I have to admit I’ve been way too stuck in my own head.
I need my headphones and a hot bath. Anything to stop thinking about how Mom hasn’t called or texted for my birthday.
To stop thinking about Henry, too. We all know how things went down in China.
I got eliminated in the fourth round because I was too distracted with Liam.
I can’t let that happen again. I need to get it together.
Not feeling in control is starting to make me panic.
“So?” I insist.
“Oh, you can’t leave just yet,” Drew replies, avoiding eye contact as he flashes a smile at someone who walked past us.
“Why not?” I groan. “I’ve done everything you asked. Talked to everyone. Posed for the camera multiple times. What’s left?”
“This,” he says with a grin, gesturing with both hands like a game show hostess.
“Oh no, Drew. What did you do?” I mutter through clenched teeth, still smiling. Gemma snorts behind me.
“Just play along,” he says, gripping my shoulders and steering me toward the birthday cake being wheeled in my direction. “This was all Neel Ultex’s idea. So smile for the cameras, blow out the candles, and you’ll be free to go. Sound good?”
The cake shows up before I can reply, and I’m surrounded by people I barely recognize, singing at me. I’m gripping Gemma’s hand like a lifeline.
I can’t think of anything more awkward than standing there, staring at a cake, avoiding eye contact, and silently begging for the song to end.
The photographers close in, flashes popping like fireworks as someone in the crowd reminds me to make a wish before blowing out the candles.
I wish my mom would stop drinking.
That’s what I want. I’ll never wish to win. That part’s on me. On my work, on my discipline, and on the countless hours I’ve poured into the court. But getting her to sober up? That’s wish territory. It’s out of my hands. And maybe, just maybe, if she stops, she’ll finally see me.
My jaw tightens as I blow out all eighteen candles in one go, but the wish just sits there, heavy and unmoving. They’re perfectly arranged in front of a caramel tennis racket sculpted over the impressive Italian meringue cake.
I summon a smile for the cameras, making Drew proud. The reps from Neel Ultex join my dad and me for a few shots as several photographers peel away, their flashes going off somewhere in the near distance.
Thankfully, everyone’s attention shifts to the new arrival, which means I’ll likely be allowed to leave soon. A couple of servers roll the cake away, promising to return with slices for the guests.
The reps from Neel Ultex hug and congratulate me one last time, and as I’m pulling away from the embrace, I spot the reason for all the commotion.
William Sjoberg, Hollywood’s hottest commodity, has arrived with his entourage.
And Liam is with him.
The worst part? There’s a stunning girl with dark brown hair by his side, and they’re holding hands with an easy, lived-in intimacy that suggests it’s second nature to them. Like their hands were always meant to find each other.
Like he never held mine at all.