Chapter 15
Fifteen
“I’m glad to see you’re not worse for the wear.” Reese’s voice came from behind Sydney, standing in the doorway of what Sydney surmised had to be Reese’s childhood bedroom.
Sydney turned around and leveled a smile in Reese’s direction. “I’ll survive.”
It had only taken Sydney about five minutes to dab at the stain as best she could manage. Hopefully, a trip to the dry cleaner would do the rest.
She’d considered texting Reese, but her phone had died somewhere between canapés and shattered champagne flutes. When she’d poured herself into bed this morning, a full battery had been the last thing on her mind.
So while she waited, she’d decided to look around the room. In her defense, anyone would have done the same thing. When you were invited into your fake girlfriend’s childhood bedroom, you didn’t throw away that chance.
But she also wasn’t going to lie about it.
“I feel like you knew that leaving me up here that long would give me more time to snoop,” Sydney said with a grin as Reese stepped next to her, their arms brushing.
Sydney’s stare was trained on a myriad of trophies and plaques covering most of one of the walls. Model UN. Debate team. Varsity swim team. Mathletes. National Honor Society. National Business Honor Society.
“I see you kept yourself busy,” Sydney said, ghosting her hands along a plaque honoring Reese for her first-place finish in a Future Business Leaders’ competition. “No wonder our paths never crossed in high school.”
Reese smiled wryly. “I think that given the amount of time you spent on tennis, that’s as much your fault as mine.”
“Probably.” The room made Sydney think of the one she used to have in Stoneport, with a very similar wall filled with tennis ribbons and trophies from her high school tournaments.
She wondered what her mom had done with everything; only a small selection had been transported down to Florida when they’d moved.
Sydney traced her fingers around the edge of the plaque one last time before turning to face Reese. “So, how’d it go down there?”
She studied Reese then, trying to gauge her mood. When Sydney had left, the look in her eyes had been pure ice, directed at Grant. It was terrifying and incredibly sexy, in equal measures.
But now, Reese’s stare was softer again, and her lips broke into a broad smile. “Grant is drunk as a skunk, to put it mildly.”
The unexpected bark of laughter that pushed out of Sydney made her throw her hand up to her mouth to stifle it. “I’m sorry. That is not what I was expecting you to say.”
“God, he is such a mess,” Reese said, more like she was trying to figure something out than telling Sydney a fact.
But Sydney had been noticing the same thing. The Grant she’d always known was charming and witty and confident. This version of Grant she’d been confronted with all summer was like the shell of the person she’d known, not that it absolved him of any of the awful things he’d done to her.
“Do you, like, get the sense…” Sydney paused, trying to figure out the right words. “It seems like he doesn’t even want to get married.”
What Grant had done to her was inexcusable, no matter what the reason, but somehow, it had comforted Sydney that if he was going to do it, it was because Brynn was the love of his life and he couldn’t live without her.
“It’s like Brynn is just some sort of afterthought to him,” Reese considered.
Sydney groaned. “Don’t go making me feel badly for the woman my ex cheated on me with.”
“I know,” Reese lamented, her eyes apologetic. “But she’s so sweet. Way too sweet for Grant. Maybe for this world entirely.”
Sydney had been around long enough to know that suppressing feelings only worked for so long. “It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to worry about.”
Reese lifted a sculpted brow. “Guess that means I don’t have to worry about you, at least.”
“A magazine once published that the volume of my grunt on the tennis court was more decibels than a jackhammer,” Sydney admitted, though she wasn’t embarrassed about it.
In fact, Hallie had framed the reference and mailed it to Sydney when she’d discovered the article and had barely gone a week in their friendship since without mentioning it.
Reese looked at her for a few contemplative moments before speaking. “Well, was it?”
“Colloquially, it’s known as a grunt-o-meter during tournaments, and yes,” Sydney added pointedly, “that’s a real thing. They measured my sounds and then compared them. It wasn’t as loud as fireworks or a gunshot, so I guess I’ve got that going for me.”
Reese reached out to fidget with one of the trophies before straightening it. “Speaking of tennis, we haven’t discussed how your trip home was. About the meeting with your agent. Good news, I hope?”
It was the way Reese looked at her then, a soft little furrow in her brow coupled with an endearing smile, that made Sydney herself question what qualified as good news.
Staring at Reese, it suddenly didn’t feel like such a great opportunity to leave Stoneport for three upcoming tournaments, all in service of ultimately getting a contract next year that could keep her on the road more than she was home.
Home .
She thought of Hallie, a constantly perky ray of sunshine who knew her better than anyone in the world. Who was going through one of the biggest changes in her own life and still always had time and love and support for Sydney.
Her parents, who’d moved to Florida to be with her and who she was sure would be willing to come back to Stoneport if she decided to move back here full-time. Even if they never let her live it down.
And now, Reese. Who’d somehow slipped through the defenses she’d built up over the last year. Who was someone Sydney could see herself falling for. Really, truly falling for.
Would it be worth it to Reese to date someone who was in and out of her life?
That question boiled itself down into the sticky feeling that was lodged in her stomach. Up until now, her life had always been planned years in advance. Now that her plans had fallen apart, she’d been impulsive the last few weeks in a way she never had before.
It had brought her to Stoneport.
It had brought her to Reese .
Was she ready to walk away from all of that already?
And for what? A job she may be horrible at? That she may not even get? On top of what she’d be letting go of, could she take that rejection again, so soon?
She had to let Sara know about the announcer position by tomorrow, and refusing to think—seriously think—about her options until now meant that they were all swirling together, at the worst possible moment .
“Sydney?” Reese asked, apprehension in her voice as her smile faltered.
Sydney sighed, willing the confusing thoughts swirling around out of her body on the exhale. “She offered me a job. Or, more accurately, a tryout for a new job.”
Really, the best thing to do was just ask Reese where she stood on everything instead of trying to draw up her own conclusions.
And, even more importantly, they needed to figure out what they both actually wanted.
Whatever was happening with Reese aside, Sydney needed to decide for herself what came next, too.
Reese tipped her head to the side and studied Sydney unnervingly, like she was trying to understand. Join the club. “And is that… not a good thing?”
Before answering, Sydney walked over to the bed. Her legs felt like jelly, and she sucked in a deep, calming breath before she sat down.
Why hadn’t she given this more thought after talking to Sara?
Because maybe she wouldn’t like the conclusion she came to, the truths it would force her to accept about herself.
“My agent, Sara, told me that The Tennis Network is considering me for a commentator position. I have to let her know by tomorrow.”
Reese’s eyes lit up before she saw the frown Sydney could feel on her own face, which prompted Reese’s features to quickly return to neutral.
“Okay, so… seems like we have mixed feelings?” she asked, coming to sit next to Sydney, who relished the current of warmth that flowed through her when Reese entangled their fingers together.
Reese ran her fingertips along Sydney’s knuckles in a soothing pattern, and in spite of the tumult coursing through her, she almost purred like a cat.
“Talk to me about them,” Reese encouraged softly, her fingers rubbing in small, focused circles as she moved from knuckle to knuckle.
“I’ve spent the last month mourning my relationship with professional tennis.
” She looked at Reese then, wondering if she understood.
“Have you ever tried to get over something? Like, well and truly find closure and move on? Only, the idea of it keeps popping up. Keeps making you wonder if you made the right decision? Especially when whatever happened wasn’t your decision in the first place.
Tennis has been my whole life up until now.
Am I just too afraid to give up the comfort of what I’ve known, even if it isn’t a good idea to stay in this world? ”
She appreciated Reese’s thoughtful brow scrunch, which was more than a little endearing, while she considered Sydney’s question.
“I’ve spent my entire life wanting my father’s approval.
All those awards,” Reese said, gesturing toward the wall, “were so that he’d notice that I was smart and capable and worthy of following in his footsteps. ”
When Reese’s lips twitched, Sydney scooted a little closer, so that their thighs touched. She wanted to be physically connected for whatever Reese said next. It felt important.
This moment happening between them felt important.
“And then I got into a top college. And a top business school. And founded and sold a startup. And then bought a money pit worth a few million dollars.” She looked at Sydney quickly, flashing her an embarrassed grin. “Respectfully.”
Sydney held up her hands. “No offense taken.”