Chapter 31
Inés
Shh . . . Don’t Say It—Fletcher
“Keep up the pace, Inés!” Calvin shouted from the sidelines, just as his sister scored another point.
His sister who, only a few days ago, I’d made out with in a hotel room.
We’d been in Cincinnati for a few days now, the competition in full swing. Chloe and I had both won our opening matches, each
of us watching in the stands while the other played.
Outside of a hotel room, we remained the same. Friendly banter, a healthy rivalry, a flirty smile behind our coaches’ backs
here and there. Behind closed doors, however, it had become clear that things were very different.
From across the net, Chloe twirled her racket in her hands, the typical Murphy swagger in every movement.
“Is that your best shot, Costa?” she shouted, a grin spread wide across her lips.
“You wish.” I watched her as she paused on the baseline, bouncing the ball. I counted to six with her, another trick I’d learned
she had.
On her wrist, her bracelet caught my eye. I loved seeing mine on her wrist while she played her matches. In its importance
to her, it had grown on me too. I didn’t complain anymore when she stopped by the locker room before my own matches, offering
up her bracelet.
At first, I’d rolled my eyes at her. Now I enjoyed our fleeting meetings.
Chloe stretched up, and I could’ve sworn she took her time to serve, letting my eyes linger on the long stretch of her body.
If she thought that she could distract me with those tight shorts of hers, she was right.
She fired the ball over the net, and I leapt into action, swinging my racket backwards to return.
Strong and secure, the ball flew back over, meeting Chloe’s swift backhand. We both launched into a battle for the point,
the hot sun beating down on us.
It was only supposed to be a warm-up match, with Chloe playing later in the day, but we got lost in the play, the competition
between us just as sexy as the attraction.
She spiked the ball. It went high. An attack. I’d been unprepared for this before. But today, I moved back to get behind the
ball, rushing to the very edge of the court and allowing it to drop.
One clean swing, and I was back on top, sending to the right. An overconfident Chloe was caught unawares, and she practically
stumbled crosscourt, stretched out to try and catch the ball. My heart stuttered in my chest as she drew back, returning,
but the ball slammed into the net.
15–15
A crowd outside the court cheered loudly at my winning the point, and I couldn’t help but do a tiny happy dance. Chloe crossed
her arms, almost seeming mad, but then a grin broke out across her face.
“Guess we’ve got an audience on our hands,” Chloe said, her hand resting on her hip.
“What would you do without your little fan club?” I joked back, sparing them another glance.
In the last week, the small audience that watched our practice had nearly tripled in size. There had been a lot of media interest
around our partnership, but most of it was speculation or complete lies, our time at the airport hotel twisted completely
to make Chloe look like a villain.
Apparently, to them, it didn’t matter that she’d been working on improving her on-court behavior. They only cared about spinning headlines.
She shrugged. “Better give them a good show, don’t you think?”
“I think the only thing you two should be doing is warming up!” Calvin shouted from his place on the sideline. “Get your head
in the game, Chloe. You need to be prepared.”
We continued, each of us scoring point after point. With every passing game, I couldn’t help but enjoy our competition. And
the crowd clearly loved it too.
“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Calvin said, stopping the match as we tied.
“Are you denying me victory?” Chloe cried, only seeming half serious.
“He’s saving your ass from being embarrassed in front of your fans,” I muttered. She pulled out a spare ball, aiming it at
me in retaliation. Calvin grabbed it mid-throw, chucking it into the ball cart next to him.
“No,” he said. “But I don’t like that the paparazzi have shown up. I think we should go and get ready for the match later.”
I looked back over at the fence. I had noticed the cheers getting louder with every passing point, but I hadn’t realized how
large the crowd had gotten. A quick glance and I saw the people he was concerned about—only a couple, but I’d come to recognize
their faces.
“Are we heading inside?” Chloe asked, turning to Calvin. “Let’s give the fans some time. They really enjoy it.”
Calvin shrugged. “If you think that’s a good idea. But be careful.”
“Is that okay?” She turned to me, catching me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to give me a choice. I had to stop myself from
reaching out, grabbing her hand and interlacing her fingers with mine.
Memories flooded my mind. A handful of the softest moments between us. Holding hands as we walked towards our hotel room, making sure nobody else was around. Her soft grin as she asked me if I was free tomorrow night for drinks. A date.
“Yeah, sure,” I answered.
She smiled, her face lighting up. “Come on then.”
She greeted the crowd as if she was the people’s princess. The buzz amongst the fans was unreal. In the last year, it was
clear how much her popularity had grown, especially over here in the US. I had my own support, more so in Europe, but over
the last couple of years, with my injuries, it had faded.
But this was on a different scale.
Chloe smiled and hugged a few people, apologizing for her post-match sweat. But they seemed to love her anyway. Calvin, meanwhile,
was reduced to photographer. The fans did their best to block the paparazzi, somehow aware of their unwanted attention.
I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous as I watched her interact with them. How confident she was with them. Her eyes caught
mine, a familiar sparkle there as yet another teenager told her how she’d “started playing because of her.” When her attention
returned to the girl, it felt as if the sun had disappeared behind clouds, that ray of warmth leaving me.
Even when we were both spotted in the hotel back in Toronto, I felt like I didn’t deserve this attention. I simply ran around,
hitting a ball and calling it a career.
“Hey,” another fan said, her hand reaching out and holding on to my arm. I tried to tug it away on instinct, but she held
on tightly. She wasn’t hurting me, but she hadn’t asked. “You two are such a cute couple!”
“A couple?” I repeated, my posture stiffening immediately.
Another fan turned towards me. “Of course, you’re always together now! We can’t believe you used to be enemies!”
“No, we are hitting partners,” I lied, trying once again to pull my arm from her grasp. I knew enough to know that neither
Chloe nor I wanted the new nature of our relationship to get out yet.
“Of course.” Another winked at me. My mouth went dry, caught out by their accusations. I didn’t want them to know yet. This wasn’t for them to take and read into. It was ours.
If it even worked out.
“OH MY GOD, CHLOE!” The screaming turned supersonic, and I almost cringed as I found Chloe standing beside me.
“Hi,” Chloe answered. Her sunshine personality was still in place, but her words were snipped as she addressed the young girl
still holding my arm. “Can you let go of my friend now, please?”
“Can we get a photo with you both?”
“Sure, but only one.”
The crowd clamored closer, almost trapping us together. There was an ocean of phones in front of us, all taking selfies, an
almost feral need to get a photo, take a piece of us.
My stomach twisted as the paparazzi took advantage of the scene, snapping some photos of us pressed together by the crowd.
Instead of forcing a smile, I tried to make sure it was clear I wasn’t happy.
It took Calvin to help break us out of it, practically pulling Chloe from the group, who in turn pulled me too. We didn’t
look back as we headed inside, not stopping until we were safely inside the private area that was open to players and officials.
“That was crazy,” I said, still feeling as if people were chasing us, my heart pounding in my chest. Turning around, the path
was clear, but I still felt strange, unsettled.
Chloe looked at Calvin, her voice panicked. “Why were they asking about a relationship?”
“It’s only gossip, it’s nothing.” He shook his head, turning away, but somehow, I got a bad feeling. What the fans had said,
that didn’t feel like nothing. It felt far too close to the truth.
I looked over at Chloe, reading the confused look on her face, the crinkle of her brows. Something in my gut twisted.
I followed after him, demanding, “What gossip, Calvin?”
We’d been careful these past few days, as the coverage had grown harder to read.
The twisted stories, the comments that followed.
Chloe and I had agreed it was best to step away, to let our teams take over our accounts and to focus on the tournament.
Anytime we’d been together we’d made sure it was somewhere private.
Soft kisses, hand-holding, falling asleep in her arms, the TV playing in the background. Nothing more.
Apparently, she’d been serious about this dating thing.
“Just . . .” He sighed, both Chloe and I hot on his heels. “Some fans are speculating online about you two, and the tabloids
caught wind of it.” He turned to face us. “It’s nothing. Obviously there’s nothing going on.”
Except there is. At least we seemed to be fooling him.
“Yeah, of course,” Chloe said. She didn’t sound too concerned, but her shoulders were drawn back, a hand holding on to her
bag strap.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it will die away. The sponsors are fine with the extra PR, and we can start practicing in
more closed sessions. I should’ve thought better of it,” Calvin resolved. “There’s been a lot of media attention recently,
more than usual, but a lot of it has been tabloid fodder.”
“There’s more?” Chloe asked.
“Just stories like you acting badly in hotels or losing team members.” He sighed. “It’s been more annoying than anything,
since we know it’s not true. But since it’s having this reaction, I’m going to get Dani onto it.”
“Yeah, please,” she said, the concern still across her face, spurring my own anxiety on. What if this didn’t die away?
Maybe it would be better to stop . . .
She’d even said that she didn’t want this to get messy. Maybe it was better to end things before it did, before she got hurt.
“Go get ready for your matches,” Calvin instructed, his head nodding towards the changing room. “I’ll see you out here.”
Silently, we headed inside and looked around the busy room. Chloe nudged her arm into my side, indicating for me to follow. We walked a few rows up, finding a private space in the crowded area.
“Are you okay?” I asked as we sat side by side on the bench. Her focus was on the floor, as if she was running through countless
scenarios in her head, calculating every outcome.
Her gaze caught mine, her expression turning soft as she nodded her head once. “Fine.”
“They don’t know anything,” I said. My hand slid up the bench, my fingers grazing hers, as if to give her the space to pull
back at the touch. I was surprised when instead of pulling away, she pulled me closer, our fingers interlacing.
Her eyes on mine, she said, “I don’t care.”
My brows furrowed. “Of course you care.”
“No, I don’t,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wouldn’t if they knew I was dating a man. Why
would I care if they knew I was dating you?”
I struggled to respond, caught off guard by her reaction. “Because people do? Even when they shouldn’t. Sponsors, your family . . .”
Her lips curled into a small, bittersweet smile, a sad laugh slipping out. “Yeah, and if they won’t support me because I’m
seeing you, then fuck them.” She squeezed my hand again. Her grip was firm and grounding. “This is our relationship, however it works out. The only people who get a say in it are us.”
I was struck by her conviction, the raw honesty in her words. It wasn’t just defiance; it was something deeper. Something
that made my chest ache in a way I hadn’t expected.
Chloe shrugged. “This can’t be a surprise; you’re pretty open about your sexuality.”
“I know,” I said, the feeling of pride still growing. Maybe I was too used to being somebody’s secret, that insecurity rearing
its head again. It had never really been a secret, even with my parents. “I assumed this was new for you.”
“It is, and it isn’t. I knew where I stood.
I knew I was bisexual and I knew I was attracted to you.
” I swear my body turned two degrees warmer under her gaze.
A confidence washed over her. Different from on the court, when she was winning.
This wasn’t cockiness; it was self-assurance.
A calm certainty in who she was and what she wanted.
It was magnetic, and I felt myself leaning in, drawn to her.
“But that doesn’t mean people get to own me. It’s my life, and just because I’m in the public eye, they don’t get every single
shred of me. I am happy to sit with fans, take photos and talk about tennis. I love doing that, I feel lucky to have that
support. But they can’t fuck with the people in my life.”
“You’re amazing,” I said, my head tilting. The need to kiss her was intoxicating. I had to stop myself from leaning in closer.
But it felt good, to know we weren’t hiding this because she was afraid. Only because it was ours.
Chloe grinned, that cockiness returning. “Oh, don’t worry, I am well aware.”
Her eyes twinkled playfully back at me, those light-pink lips looking more and more tempting. My eyes left her for a second,
scanning the locker room behind her.
Empty.
The second glance was the final straw. I closed the brief gap between us, my lips pressing against hers. How did she always taste so sweet? Like jam and summer fruit.
I forced myself to pull away, and found her lips curled into a perfect smile, those beautiful eyes clearer than ever before,
and I pulled off my friendship bracelet.
“Good luck for later,” I said, slipping it over her knuckles.
From her opposite hand, she removed her own, doing the same and placing it on my wrist. Seeing it there seemed to lock something
in place. Like now my pre-match routine was incomplete without our little ritual.
“Same for you,” Chloe said, grinning as she held up her hand.
My bracelet hung loosely on her wrist, but it still looked perfect, like it was meant to be there.
She gave it a little shake, letting it slide up and down her arm.
“Besides, with all the luck in these things, there’s no way we can fail. ”