Chapter 22
THE PLAYERS’ LOUNGE WAS PACKED. INDY FIGURED THAT MADE sense since it was only the second day of the tournament and almost no one had been eliminated yet.
She took in the players and their coaches discussing match strategy, some friends and family hovering in the background.
Jasmine sat next to her, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t have a care in the world, even though their first match was minutes away.
Sitting back, leg bouncing, Indy looked around the room.
She was a nervous wreck and the crowd wasn’t helping.
She hated this. Just like at the Classic, she felt fine until right before a match, and then the jitters started.
Except now there was no hope of stepping out onto the court against a weaker opponent.
She was at the fucking French Open and they were playing Zina Lutrova and Ekaterina Grishina.
Though the two Russians hadn’t played together before, they were training for Olympic doubles and were using this tournament as a practice run.
Jasmine glared at her and then glanced down at her knee. Indy muttered an apology and stilled the constant, nauseating motion. But she squirmed in her seat, bringing her thumb to her mouth to chew on her fingernail instead.
“Ladies, good news,” Dom said, throwing himself down in a chair across from them. “You two have a walkover.”
“You’re kidding,” Jasmine said.
“Nope,” he said, passing her an updated copy of the draw. “Lutrova withdrew from doubles. She wants to focus on singles. No match today.”
“So, we won?” Indy asked.
“That’s one way of looking at it, I guess.
Next match is scheduled for the day after tomorrow.
You’ve got a real opportunity here. Let’s not let it go to waste.
I reserved a few hours on a practice court so you can get some work in and stay fresh, but congrats, you’re through to the second round.
” He stood and left, moving to the buffet.
“Wow, that was easy,” Indy said, grinning, her nerves gone now that they didn’t actually have to play.
“Not really. Did you see who our potential next-round match would be?”
“No, I didn’t look at the draw.”
“Why wouldn’t you look at the draw?”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to. You know, like whenever anyone in an interview is asked if they know who they’re playing next, they always say they have no idea. I figured it was bad luck or something.”
“They’re lying when they say that. Everyone looks at the draw.”
“So…” Indy trailed off.
“So what?”
“Who are we playing?”
“Oh right, sorry.” Jasmine glanced down at the page Dom gave her and pointed out their likely opponents for their next match. “The Kapur sisters, Pallavi and Ananya.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
The Kapur twins were one of the top doubles teams in the world and the number one seed for this tournament.
They’d both given up playing on the singles circuit a few years ago and since then had won dozens of tournaments, most notably the Australian Open.
Facing them in their first match together would be like deciding to run a marathon after a couple of hours of jogging on the treadmill.
“We are so screwed,” Indy said.
“We could go watch them play. They’re scheduled for right now.”
“Why not?” Not that knowing exactly how they were going to be dismantled in a couple of days would help her nerves, but at least she’d know what she was in for.
They made their way to one of the outer courts, where the Kapur sisters were scheduled to play a wild card team directly across from where their own match had been scheduled.
The crowd was sparse and they found a spot along the chain-link fence surrounding the court.
There were stands on the other side, but the view was better against the fence.
Indy was just settling in to watch when a voice interrupted her.
“Indiana.”
Indy turned her head, and her jaw dropped.
A few feet away was a tall man dressed in khaki pants and a crisp light blue Lacoste polo.
His dark blond hair, beginning to gray at the temples, was cropped close.
Caroline was beside him, hanging on his arm, her wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses hiding her identity from passersby.
Not that it was working: Caroline was the kind of woman people noticed, disguise or not.
Indy knew who she was immediately. So did Jasmine, apparently.
“Who’s that with Caroline?” Jasmine asked.
“That’s my dad.”
“Your dad? But I thought…”
“So did I.” Indy pushed off the fence and crossed the pathway between them. “Hi,” she said, making sure to put a question in her tone as they both hugged her.
“I called your father,” Caroline said, kissing each of her cheeks.
“Obviously.”
Her dad had the gall to smile. “I hadn’t realized you had progressed this quickly.”
“You should’ve asked me before you called him,” Indy said, glaring at her agent.
“It is done,” Caroline said with a dismissive shrug. “Now, why are you not preparing for your match?”
“Jasmine and I got a walkover into the second round.”
“Ah,” her dad said, looking at Caroline. “Well, if there’s no match, I should go back to the hotel and call the office.”
“Good,” Indy said, trying to stifle the hurt. Of course he didn’t want to spend any actual time with her, not that she wanted to either, but she would have liked the option of turning him down flat. “My next match is the day after tomorrow. Come if you want. I don’t care.”
She spun and walked away, catching Jasmine’s eye as she passed her.
Anger bordering on rage coursed through her at his audacity and at herself, for not seeing it coming.
Of course he showed up now. Of course he acted like everything was fine and that he hadn’t ignored her entirely for most of her life and dipped completely after her mom died and pawned her off to Caroline when she dropped out of college on what he probably thought was a whim.
But now that it had worked out, he’d swoop in, like he’d been there all along, a loving, supportive father who wanted to nurture her dreams.
Fuck. Him.
Angling her way through the teams of spectators exploring the outer courts, she circled back toward the players’ exit and ran into Jack, her face almost colliding against the Nike swoosh logo on his black T-shirt.
“Indiana?” he said as she pushed past him. “Indiana, wait.”
She whirled around and snapped, “What?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to step around him again. People around them in the busy hallway, athletes, coaches, and staff alike, were staring at them. Most of them probably had no idea who she was, but they definitely knew Jack.
“You’re not fine,” he said, leading her away from the crowd and down a separate empty hallway. “What’s the matter? Maybe I can help.”
Indy ran a hand through her hair. “My dad is here.”
Jack studied her carefully. She liked that about him. He always thought before he spoke. “And that’s bad?”
“Of course it’s bad. He’s only here because… because…”
“He’s your dad. He’s here because he wants to support you.”
She twisted her mouth into a pout. Jack didn’t get it. She hadn’t met his parents, but she knew the Harrisons were a happy family.
“He’s here because I’m interesting now. I’m doing something worthy of his attention, so he showed up.”
“Indiana…” he said, sighing heavily, his eyes softening… pitying.
Pity was the last thing she wanted him to feel for her. “Don’t. My dad is an asshole. He’s always been like that, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, okay? I don’t need your pity.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“I…” She trailed off. “What?”
“I kind of want to go shake him for not realizing what an amazing daughter he has, but I don’t feel sorry for you.”
Her heart fluttered. “You think I’m amazing?”
Jack ran a shaky hand across the back of his neck. “You know I do.”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand didn’t fall away, but hovered over her cheek. He blinked down at her, hesitating for a moment before his hand descended, large and warm against her skin. Breathing in deeply, she leaned into the touch.
This wasn’t the lightning bolt attraction she normally felt around him but a slow, burning ember, comforting and safe, and she wanted this, too, this wall around the world keeping all the bad shit away, helping her forget how hard all of this was simply by being there.
She collapsed into him and he held her close, one hand cradling the back of her head, his thumb brushing soothing circles just below her ear, coaxing her breath back into a slow, even rhythm, her temper cooling, all the tension in her sliding away.
Finally, she pulled away and he let her go, but she didn’t step back and neither did he.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and when she looked into his eyes, all his work to calm her down went to hell in the best possible way. Her breath caught and she wet her lips, his gaze flicking down to follow the motion. She was close enough to hear his shaky exhale.
“Indiana, I…” He trailed off, finally bending his head to hers.
The electricity that accompanied their innocent kiss a few weeks ago was like a tiny little sparkler compared to the fireworks display exploding behind her eyes as his tongue gently nudged against her lips, deepening the kiss.
He held her firmly at her hips, his fingers flexing with every stroke of his tongue, pulling her closer.
Then she felt him tense, and in the next second he was gone, putting several feet between them, staring at her.
“I’m—”
“Jack, I swear to God, if you fucking apologize.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Of course you were,” she said, shaking her head, “because that’s the kind of guy you are. Just like how you always show up whenever I need rescuing. I know you feel something for me, but I don’t understand why you won’t do anything about it.”
“I… I’m sorry, I…”
He flinched, clearly knowing he’d said the wrong thing, and Indy felt all her anger and rage fly back to the surface and boil over as she leaned in closer. “If any other man were standing in front of me right now, he wouldn’t be apologizing.”
Jack pressed his lips into a thin line. “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.”
“How? Explain it to me.”
He hesitated, but then said, “I’m too old for you.” His eyes darted away from her before he even finished his weak-ass excuse.
Indy snorted in disbelief. “Please, spare me.”
“Six years is more than you realize. The shit I thought I knew when I was twenty…” He trailed off, but there was something in his eyes, something that told her that the age thing, even if it was part of why he was holding back, wasn’t the only reason.
It just didn’t add up.
“I think you’re full of shit.”
He snorted. “Don’t you think I’d rather just take what I want and damn the consequences? But I can’t do that. That’s not the kind of man I am.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Then what the hell do you want from me?” he snapped, throwing up his hands in the air.
“I want you to stop being a coward.”
The words were liberating, like she’d been holding them in since the moment she first saw him, and now he knew the truth, even if he’d never act on it—at least not again.
The seconds ticked away, and the longer he was silent, the clearer it was that he wasn’t going to respond, but Indy wasn’t finished. She was done pretending.
“If you don’t feel the same way,” she said, taking one step and then another toward him, until her body was nearly flush against his, “if you don’t want me, that’s okay. But if you want this as much as I do, well, you know where to find me.”
With her last words, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, inflicting the same sweet torture he’d put her through back when they first met. Then she turned and walked away.