Chapter 28
Chloe
Sofia—Clairo
“By the time we get to the front of this queue, the hotel will be full,” Calvin grumbled beside me, his arms crossed. The
lobby buzzed with activity, frustration thick in the air. A storm had grounded all flights, and it had proven difficult to
find a hotel room for the night.
I rose onto my tiptoes, craning my neck to count the heads in front of us. Five people, and only one receptionist on duty.
“You might be right,” I muttered. This was going to take a while.
We’d tried calling ahead, the hotels that we’d managed to get through to telling us they were already full. All I’d wanted to do was get out of Toronto. The loss from earlier in
the day still stung, but the reaction online was nothing like I’d seen before.
@bornahater: Chloe Murphy not throwing a tantrum bc she lost? Who is she?
@oncourtbaddie: IS THIS THE INéS EFFECT?
@justafan: Murphy behaving like an adult? Never thought I’d see the day.
“It’s fine,” Inés chimed in, her attention on her phone. “This is a huge hotel. There’ll be rooms.”
We’d spent almost all of our free time in Toronto together practicing, and it had been nothing short of brutal. But she’d
trained me to play under pressure, and throughout the tournament, the work had clearly paid off.
“If the flight hadn’t been cancelled, we’d be in the air by now,” Calvin grumbled again.
“We’ll be in Cincinnati tomorrow morning,” I replied, stepping forward as the line moved, watching some lucky bastard make
their way to the elevators.
“We’re losing hours of practice time,” Calvin said, his voice low but still carrying a whiny edge.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll burn off energy running drills in the room.” Though the thought of doing any more than collapsing
onto a bed was ridiculous. A hot bath and an early night had been penciled into my mind since the moment our flight was cancelled.
Inés leaned in close, her breath brushing my ear. “Or another night watching the movie channel?”
I couldn’t help but smile, the easy warmth between us a welcome distraction. “Now that sounds like a plan.”
Just like that, the night looked a little brighter. Who knew the best part of my day would turn out to be evenings spent with
Inés Costa and the basic cable movie channel?
It had become routine. Between matches and all the madness that came with them, she’d burn whatever energy I had left running
me ragged on a court. And then crash in my hotel room watching whatever film was on. Sometimes, I woke up alone, realizing
I’d fallen asleep during the movie and Inés had seen herself out.
Another receptionist appeared at the desk, and the line moved more quickly. Calvin pumped his fist like he’d won a title match.
“Finally.”
“I’m sorry,” a voice said behind us, hesitant but distinct. “But are you Inés Costa?”
A family of four stood a step behind us. The two girls, one a teenager and the other younger, were wide-eyed. The older one
clutched her phone, her knuckles white around it.
“And Chloe Murphy?” the mother added, glancing at me nervously.
A smile spread across my face. I’d been recognized a few times over the past year, more as my results improved, and it still
sent a small thrill through me.
Inés smiled, her voice holding a little hesitation. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
The father stepped forward, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “Wow, our kids are huge fans of both of you. We came into town for
the tournament. It’s such a treat to see you here.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet!” I said, looking down at the girls. The younger one stayed shyly tucked behind her mom, but the teenager
managed a small, excited smile.
“Could we take some photos?” the teenager asked, her voice trembling with nerves.
“Of course!” I said immediately, but I glanced at Inés, catching the reluctance in her expression. I waved at her, pulling
Inés over and into the shot.
The mom took her daughter’s phone, and we all squeezed together for the photo. I felt Inés’s arm slide around my back, her
palm pressing against a sliver of skin where my top had shifted.
“It’s been so much fun watching you this year,” the teenager said as we pulled apart. Her confidence had grown; her smile
was bright. “I’m rooting for you to win in New York.”
“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks warming at her earnestness. “That means a lot.”
“Chloe, Inés,” Calvin called, and I realized the queue ahead of us had cleared. “Let’s go!”
We waved goodbye to the family, who looked as thrilled as if they’d met royalty, and stepped up to the desk.
“Hi, can we get three rooms, please?” Calvin asked, his hands gripping the desk as if he were clinging to it for dear life.
He’d always been a stressed traveler, every little change in a plan sending him into a tailspin.
I was surprised he hadn’t broken down in the airport.
“Let me check our availability.” The receptionist’s fingers began to fly across her keyboard. She offered a polite smile as
she looked back up at us. “I’m sorry, but we only have two rooms left. One has a king bed, and the other is a twin room.”
Calvin’s face fell. “Is there any way you can check with other hotels nearby?”
Her expression softened with sympathy. “I’m afraid most of the hotels in the area are fully booked due to several conferences
this week. That’s why we’re so packed today.” She glanced back at her computer, tapping a few keys before adding, “I could
call some of our branches in the city for you if you’d like?”
I grimaced at the thought of heading back into the city. On the way to the airport earlier, traffic had been a nightmare thanks
to an accident. Now, at 6 p.m. and in the thick of rush hour, it’d take ages to get anywhere.
Calvin shook his head. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. We should stay nearby.”
Relief should’ve settled in, but it didn’t. That still left us one room short. I turned around, my gaze landing on Inés.
Two twin beds.
“I don’t mind sharing with Inés,” I offered, keeping my tone casual even as the idea stirred an uneasy mix of tension and
exhaustion. Sharing wasn’t ideal, especially after that moment in my hotel room in DC.
My hand on her face. Her body next to mine. Those deep-brown eyes.
I shook the thought away. We had a few weeks more on the road together. What was the point of avoiding her for one night? She was going to come watch a film anyway.
“Plus, two twin beds,” I added with a teasing grin, “means Inés gets that sleepover she’s been hinting about.”
“In your dreams, Murphy,” she shot back. But then she sighed, her reluctance giving way to practicality. “If it means we get
a bed for the night, fine.”
“Perfect. Problem solved.” I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “And we can practice those drills together.”
Inés shook her head, but the smile on her lips told me everything I needed to know.
“We’ll take the rooms,” Calvin said, the relief in his voice clear.
“Excellent,” the receptionist said, before beginning to book us in. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us.” She slid two
key cards across the desk. “The king bed is on the third floor, room 305, and the twin room is 510, fifth floor.”
Calvin took the keys, passing the key marked 510 to me with a look of warning. “Behave,” he warned, his eyes flicking between
Inés and me.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Raid the minibar?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He shoved the key into my hand before grabbing his bag.
As we stepped inside the elevator, I could feel the weight of Inés’s presence beside me. The warmth of her shoulder hovering
near mine, the way her dark glossy hair caught the light.
Who had suggested this idea again? Oh yeah, that would be me. Fucking genius.
The elevator chimed as it reached the third floor, and Calvin turned back to us, his expression already exasperated. “We have
to get up early, so I suggest you both get some sleep. I’ll meet you in the lobby at five a.m. sharp,” he added, pointing
a finger at us. “If you’re late, I’m sticking you both in economy.”
“Goodnight,” Inés and I said in unison, sharing a glance as the doors slid shut. The elevator whirred softly, carrying us up to the fifth floor.
“This feels like the start of a terrible sitcom,” Inés muttered, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.
I laughed. “Absolutely. Two rival players, forced to share a room. One’s a control freak—”
“The other is a walking disaster,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen your room before.”
“You love to bring that up, don’t you?”
“It’s a pretty unforgettable experience.”
The doors slid open, and we stepped out into the hallway, dragging our suitcases behind us. By the time we reached our room,
exhaustion had truly settled into my bones. Sliding the key card into the lock, I pushed it open, already fantasizing about
sinking into a bed.
“If you even think about taking the window bed, you’ve got another think coming,” Inés warned, her voice dry.
“Whatever Her Royal Highness prefers,” I teased, stepping inside. “Home sweet—” The words caught in my throat as I froze in
the doorway.
“What now?” Inés sighed, bumping into me from behind. “Are you . . .” She stopped mid-sentence, leaning around me to look
into the room. Her brow furrowed as her gaze traveled to the center of the room.
Her silence was louder than any reaction.
“Well,” she said after a beat, her tone dry and razor-sharp. “This episode took a turn.”
“There’s only one bed.”
“How about we flip a coin for the floor?”