Chapter 4
EASY, AGEVOLE, EASY,” COACH D’AMATO CALLED AS JASMINE jogged around the practice court with the rest of the group, cooling down from their practice session. “Va bene, va bene. That is all, eccellente.”
Leading the line, Jasmine slowed to a walk and then went for her racket bag resting against the fence. She’d had a decent practice and her muscles were tingling, a good hurt. It was the perfect way to start off Classic rankings day.
“Good practice,” Coach D’Amato said as everyone began to leave the court. “Indiana, uno momento, per favore.”
D’Amato pulled the new girl aside and seemed to be explaining something about her footwork, demonstrating a simple crossover step.
Jasmine smirked. Indiana had a massive serve to go along with her ridiculous name, but not much else.
Her footwork was a mess. Her forehand was okay, but her backhand was so weak, decent players would attack that instead.
And of course she was starting at OBX just before the Classic.
She wasn’t the first player to try that strategy.
They would show up thinking Dom would be so floored by the talent oozing out of their pores he’d hand over the Classic trophy and all prestige that went along with it, though Indiana was the first to actually show up on ranking day.
It didn’t make her any less delusional, but still, it was a gutsy move.
No, Indiana Gaffney wouldn’t be giving her any trouble.
Jasmine let her eyes wander over the rest of the training group gathering up their things, almost all of whom looked ready to drop.
In truth, none of them would give her a problem.
Since Penny started full-time on tour, Jasmine was easily the best player at OBX.
Years of hard work had brought her to this point, and now it was her time to shine. Time to live up to her parents’ legacy.
“Lookin’ good out there, Randazzo.” A voice carried from the other side of the fence, breaking into her thoughts.
She would know that voice anywhere. Teddy Harrison.
Her eyes flew open wide, looking around for an escape route, but the fence surrounding the courts only had one other exit, and it was four courts away.
She briefly considered sprinting in that direction, but it was too late.
“What’s up?” she asked, forcing a smile onto her face before turning to look at him. He was outside the court, both hands up against the top of the fence rail.
“You ready?”
“For what?” she asked, stalling, looking around for someone, anyone to latch herself on to and give her a plausible excuse to leave, but everyone else was already off the court, headed for the locker rooms. The only one left was Indiana, and hell would freeze over before she asked her for anything.
“It’s Monday, Jas,” he said. “We have a hitting session.”
“Oh, right, I uh, I forgot.”
It was only half a lie. She hadn’t thought about him at all during practice, but when she woke up this morning, she’d hoped he’d forget about their weekly session.
They’d had one stilted and altogether awful conversation after their kiss last week.
It was all about how much better they were as friends and how they shouldn’t let one silly kiss change all that.
Or at least that’s what Teddy said, and she’d gone along with it, because the truth was she’d rather have him in her life—even just as a friend—than not at all.
She loved him. It wasn’t a stupid kiss for her.
It was everything she’d wanted for the last four years, even though she knew Teddy didn’t do relationships—ever.
But that didn’t stop her from feeling what she felt, not even after getting firmly rejected.
She still wanted him, especially now that she knew what it was like to kiss him, how good he was at it, even in their drunken stupor.
It wasn’t hard for her mind to make a leap from that kiss to what else his mouth could do, what the rest of his long, lean body could do.
Except he didn’t want her, not that way at least.
“Right. So, are we going to train?” he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, expelling some of the excess energy he always carried around.
It seemed like he was willing to move on and ignore the tension that still lingered, if he even felt it at all.
Jasmine felt like her body was encased in quicksand, being crushed under the pressure of loving someone who wouldn’t love her back.
Keeping her expression schooled into indifference, Jasmine nodded and moved off the court.
“Hi, Teddy,” Indy said as she followed right behind Jasmine.
“Hey, New Girl,” he said, flashing her a brilliant grin, one that made Jasmine’s stomach flip, even if it wasn’t for her. “How’d you find out my name? You asked around, huh?”
Indy laughed, yanking her long blond hair out of its ponytail and shaking it out. “More like Roy recognized you through the window.”
Teddy laughed and winked. “Sure he did.”
Jasmine stood, gaping. How the hell did Indy know him? She’d been here for like three seconds.
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah, someone was lost and late this morning, so I showed her the way to Dom’s office.”
“Right, only after I swore—”
“Sorry, Indiana,” Jasmine cut in, “Teddy and I have a training session. See you later.”
Jasmine pushed past her and started down the path to the practice court she and Teddy always used. She heard him mumble a quick goodbye to Indy and then heard the sound of his footsteps as he jogged to catch up.
“That was rude.”
She stopped short and turned to him. He nearly crashed right into her but caught himself in time, taking a quick step back. “Do you always have to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Flirt with every single girl who smiles at you?”
“I was being polite.”
“You were flirting.”
“Jas,” he said, his bright green eyes looking into hers. Jasmine pursed her lips, not impressed that he thought her name and an apologetic expression would be enough.
Running a hand through his short hair and huffing a frustrated breath, he began again. “I’m sorry. I thought we said we were better off as friends.”
The panic was laced through his voice, like he was being backed into a corner.
“We did.”
She tried to pretend she didn’t hear his sigh of relief.
“Then why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out. I—wait, what were you doing here this morning?”
“I, uh…” His eyes grew wide, and she knew he was fumbling around in his head for an excuse.
“Who?”
“Who what?”
“Who did you screw last night, Ted? Don’t play dumb.”
“Shit,” Teddy muttered, his eyes locking onto something over her shoulder. She could hear the chatter of female voices from the path behind her. “Teddy?”
“Walk with me this way.” He grabbed her arm and led her down a smaller path, away from the practice courts, near the edge of the property that ran along the beach.
“Teddy, what the hell? Why can’t you answer the question?
” Jasmine yanked her arm free and turned in time to see a girl with long blond hair, a lot like Indy’s, stride past on the main walkway where they’d been standing.
Katie Nelson, probably on her way to the late-morning session with Coach D’Amato, just back from her freshman year at UCLA and hoping to play in a few Challenger tournaments in the summer.
“Sorry, I—”
“Didn’t want Katie to see you.” She finished his sentence for him.
“Yeah, I didn’t want a scene,” he said, looking away from her, keeping his eyes trained above her head.
“Why would there be a—oh, it was her?”
He shrugged carelessly. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“It never does,” she muttered.
“What?”
She deflated, the anger seeping away. They were just friends, nothing more. That’s what they’d agreed to, and if she kept pushing this, she’d lose him.
“Nothing, let’s go hit, okay? I need to get another good workout in before Dom posts the rankings.
I know my mom and dad will want to go celebrate afterward, so I probably won’t be around for afternoon session.
” She was at her wit’s end, and if she didn’t have a tennis ball to hit soon, she was going to use his head for one.
“Jasmine, come on!” Lara Cronin yelled from the locker room door. “Dom’s going to post the rankings in five minutes!”
Jasmine gathered her racket bag and met the gaggle of girls waiting for her at the locker room door. They were twittering with anticipation as they all followed her down the hallway, past the Title Wall and out into the main atrium.
“What’s all this?” Roy asked from his desk, looking up over the edge of his newspaper. “You ladies all here for me?”
A ripple of laughter echoed up into the atrium’s high ceiling.
“We’re here for the Classic rankings,” one said, and Jasmine rolled her eyes.
“Ah, it all makes sense now. Dom’s still up in his office. Should be comin’ down the pike any minute, though.” Roy chuckled, going back to his paper.
They all looked up and saw Dom through his office windows. He was in the corner of his office, where his printer sat on a table. He reached for a piece of paper and studied it for a moment before nodding and disappearing from view.
He was so melodramatic, printing out an old-school list when he could have just sent it out to everyone.
Even still, it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Everyone pulled in a breath and held it, waiting for their coach to appear on the stairwell, rankings in hand.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” one girl muttered.
“Gross, then get away from me,” another chimed in.
“Are they out yet?” a voice asked. Jasmine turned and saw Indy jogging up to the edge of the crowd, hair still wet from her shower and hanging halfway down her back.
“Not yet—”
Jasmine cleared her throat, a firm ahem-hum, cutting off whoever was responding. She squinted in that direction, but it was impossible to pick the voice out of the group.