Chapter 9
AFTER DUMPING THE LAST BUCKET OF ICE INTO THE TUB, Indy slid out of her training clothes with as little movement as possible.
She let them fall to the floor. Bending down to pick them up wasn’t an option; it would hurt way too much.
It didn’t matter, though. She had her dress for the Outer Banks Classic Coaches and Players Reception hanging in her locker.
Her body protested with a violent jolt, joints unbending, as she lifted one leg then the other, her calves spasming as she lowered herself into the tub of icy water. She huffed out a breath, and her entire body tensed as the frigid water saturated her skin, shocking her muscles into submission.
Less than a week and she was in constant agony. Every workout was harder than the last, every mistake magnified and dissected by her new coaches. Her strengths were twisted into weaknesses; her limitations were highlighted at every opportunity.
She knew going in it would be hard. She never imagined it would be this hard. Then again, she wasn’t sure what exactly she’d imagined. Whatever it was, it definitely hadn’t included daily ice baths.
Groaning as her head fell back against the edge of the tub, she tried to force herself to think about anything other than the numbing cold surrounding her body. It would get better soon. It had to get better soon or she was going to crack.
Fifteen minutes later, she lifted herself out of the tub, teeth chattering and gooseflesh spreading over her skin. She wrapped herself in a towel and moved into the main locker room.
As soon as she passed each row of lockers, the girls there dissolved into whispers and stares.
She turned into her row, and across the aisle Lara and Addison were putting the finishing touches on their outfits for the night, Addison pinning her long red hair into a bun at the top of her head and Lara sliding bangles onto her wrists.
Both girls ignored her, which was an improvement as far as Indy was concerned.
“Hey,” Penny said, emerging from the other end of the row, wrapped in a towel as well. “Enjoy your ice bath?”
“Hilarious, but I’m too cold to laugh,” Indy said, her teeth still chattering as she spun through her locker combination. The shivers outweighed any nervousness she still felt in front of OBX’s star player.
“You’ll get used to it.” Penny pulled on a pretty pale yellow sundress, clearly not what she was planning to wear to the party, which was a formal affair held every year prior to the beginning of the Classic.
OBX students were supposed to mingle with the press and sponsors and welcome the other players.
The only welcome Indy wanted to give her competition was a serve into the body, but it was a mandatory event for all OBX players and staff, Dom’s orders.
“Doubtful,” Indy replied. She pushed the metal clamp up on her locker and opened the door. It was empty—the garment bag with her dress in it was gone.
“Did you bring your dress here?” Penny peered into the locker, too.
“I thought I did.” Indy leaned in, as if searching the empty space would somehow make it appear again. “What the hell? It was right here when I went out to practice.”
Penny frowned and glanced across the row to Addison and Lara, who were putting on a badly acted show of indifference but glancing at Indy every few seconds. “I think I know.”
Indy closed her eyes. Those bitches. “I’m going to kill them. Both of them.”
“No,” Penny said, grabbing her arm. “Put on whatever clean clothes you have and come to my house. I have way more dresses than I know what to do with, and we’re close to the same size. We can find you something.”
“I can’t just let them get away with this,” Indy whispered through gritted teeth.
“Yeah you can,” Penny said, and then lowered her voice. “They’re only doing this because they’re terrified of you. The tournament starts tomorrow and you’re going to kick Lara Cronin’s ass all over the court in front of everyone. That is so much better than cat fighting her in the locker room.”
Indy nodded. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Penny said. “Get dressed.”
Five minutes later, they walked shoulder to shoulder out of the locker room, pointedly ignoring the stares and whispers of the girls surrounding them.
Indy didn’t know what she expected from the Harrison home, but the pretty blue-shingled house with the basketball net in the driveway and two SUVs with Harvard and Duke magnets on the back bumpers definitely wasn’t it.
Penny led her inside, dropping her car keys on a table next to the front door.
Indy followed her past a comfortable-looking living room and up a flight of stairs lined with photos of the Harrison kids at various ages.
It was all so normal. Indy’s eyes caught on the last picture.
It looked pretty recent, maybe last Christmas, if the brightly lit tree in the background was any indication.
All three siblings standing beside their parents, the perfect family.
“Come on,” Penny said from the doorway to what Indy assumed was her bedroom. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Sorry, I was…” Indy trailed off and followed her into the room, her words failing her as the idea of being inside Penny Harrison’s bedroom hit her full force.
They were separated by less than a year in age, but Penny had accomplished so much of what Indy wanted for herself.
She’d thought that maybe the room would be lined with trophies and ribbons, evidence of her ridiculously successful career, but the walls were painted a soft lavender, a patchwork quilt rested across her bed, and the only indication that the room’s occupant wasn’t a normal girl was the end post of her bed, where dozens upon dozens of tournament player passes hung.
It looked like Penny had kept every single one.
“Okay, I’m wearing this one,” Penny said from her closet, pulling out a hanger with a gold silk dress, “but take your pick from the rest.”
Indy hesitated. “Why?” she asked, suddenly not quite sure this was for real.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing this? You barely know me.”
Penny raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re the first girl to show up at OBX and piss people off just by walking on the court?”
“Oh,” Indy said, feeling awful for questioning Penny’s motives.
“Now pick something out,” Penny said, letting her off the hook.
“Seriously?” Indy asked, approaching and staring into the closet in awe. “Where did all these dresses come from?”
“Sponsors and events. There’s a red carpet at all the big tournaments, and designers will give you a dress for free if you get your picture taken in it.”
Indy snorted. “You mean they’ll give you a dress for free.”
“Just pick one out.”
“Penny, this is a fucking Versace,” Indy said, pulling out a silver strapless minidress intricately designed with crystal patterns across every inch of the fabric.
“Oh,” Penny said. “Yeah, I wore that one in Australia this year.” Indy bit her lip, wondering if that meant she couldn’t wear it. “Go for it. It’ll probably look better on you than it did on me. I left my eyeliner in the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Indy shimmied out of her shorts and yanked her tank top over her head.
Carefully, she stepped into the Versace and slid it up over her hips.
She managed to get the zipper up most of the way but couldn’t quite reach the clasp at the center of her back.
Still, it fit perfectly, hugging her like a second skin.
She moved in front of Penny’s mirror and smoothed down the satin against her thighs.
“Penny, let’s go. We’re… Indiana.”
In the mirror, she saw Jack standing in the doorway, staring at her.
“Hi,” she said, not turning around, but keeping her eyes locked on his through her reflection.
“Where’s…” Jack cleared his throat. “Where’s my sister?” He took a step into the room.
“In the bathroom.”
He moved closer until he was right behind her. Reaching forward, his hands ghosted over her shoulders before sliding down to the line of fabric across her back.
“What are you…” she started to ask, but stopped as the dress tightened across her breasts.
She breathed deeply at the brush of his fingertips against her skin and shivered.
His eyes still held fast to hers even as his hands fell away.
This wasn’t the same man who’d ignored her on the beach during the Athlete Weekly interview and at breakfast the other day.
It couldn’t be, not with how he was looking at her.
His eyes wrenched away from hers suddenly and he stumbled back a step. “You missed a clasp,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
She turned to face him. “Jack,” she said.
“Wow, Indy, you look great,” Penny said, emerging from the bathroom dressed for the party, looking more ready to walk the Paris runways than grace its tennis courts.
Jack looked stricken, but Indy stepped around him and smiled at his sister. “Right? Thanks for the loan.”
“No problem,” Penny said, and then turned to her brother. “You ready to go?”
“Absolutely,” Jack said, storming out of the room.
Jack Harrison was the most confusing guy Indy had ever met.
Scorching hot and then ice cold. She should just leave it alone, concentrate on her game and nothing else, but she couldn’t help the way her body reacted when he was around, and she couldn’t forget the way he looked at her before he shut himself down.
It was equal parts frustrating and exciting.
And she wanted more of it.
“Come on,” Penny said, drawing her mind back to the present. “Let’s finish up and go before Dom has us running Einsteins in stilettos.”