Chapter 15
I HAVE A MATCH THIS AFTERNOON. THIS IS A REALLY, REALLY BAD idea,” Penny managed to say between gasps for breath as Alex dragged his tongue along the line of her neck, his hands gripping each thigh, holding them firmly around his waist. She’d fallen back against the pillows, completely spent, just seconds before, her body singing notes that would make Ariana Grande jealous.
“Yeah, you said earlier,” Alex murmured against her neck, his body shuddering against hers and then finally falling, only to catch himself on his elbows above her. Their skin, slick with sweat, was sticking together.
She ran a fingertip down his spine and he shifted to the side, lying back onto the mattress, dragging her with him as he went.
“Sorry, Dom, I faded in the third set because Alex couldn’t keep his hands off me,” she intoned.
He snorted and kissed the top of her head. “Sorry, Dom, Alex is a sexy beast. I couldn’t help myself this morning. Either time,” he quipped in the worst imitation of her accent she’d ever heard.
She laughed and pressed a kiss to the nearest skin she could find, his collarbone.
“You feel better now?” he asked, wrapping his arm more tightly around her waist, adjusting his biceps under her head.
“There wasn’t anything wrong.”
“Try again, Penelope,” he said, swatting her ass lightly.
“Mmm,” she hummed, “okay, maybe I’ve never… I haven’t…” She sighed, trying to put into words what she was feeling. “Even though we’re fighting or whatever, Indy’s my friend.”
“She is,” Alex agreed.
“I’ve never played a friend in a match this important before. In fact, I’ve never played a match against a friend, ever.”
“You been holding this in since you found out you’d be playing her?” Alex asked.
“Not consciously,” Penny mumbled.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of Indy on the court. Practice had been going well and her reactions were much better than the day they’d faced each other, but still, something was niggling away at her, something she’d never felt before going into a match.
“Does it help that you’re hacked off at her?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know, maybe? Is that bad?” She couldn’t help feeling frustrated with Indy.
She had every right to be annoyed with her and with Jack and it was hard to separate those feelings with what she had to do on the court.
And beyond that, what if today’s result, whatever it was, stopped them from ever recovering the friendship that had become so important to her in the last couple of months?
“You don’t have a bad bone in your body, love. Not one, that is, unless we’re…”
“Don’t you dare make that pun,” she warned, and he huffed a laugh. “Anyway, you’re biased. Very biased.”
“I thought you were great before any of this happened. Everyone knows it.”
“Fine, we’ll debate that another time. How do you do it, then?”
“What? Play against your friends?”
“No. Win against your friends.”
“Simple. You want to win. So does she. Go out and play your hardest. Don’t disrespect her and your friendship by allowing it to get in the way of what you both want. You really never played against any of your friends when you were little?”
“I didn’t really have a lot of time for friends until recently, and now…”
“And now you have one and she lied to you.” She nodded against his chest. “People let you down quite a lot, don’t they?”
“I think I expect too much,” Penny said, wondering if that was why she’d never really had any friends growing up, never had a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of months, because her standards weren’t just high, they were impossible, setting her up for constant disappointment.
She didn’t want to be this way and she didn’t want to make the people she loved feel like they couldn’t measure up.
And yeah, she was pissed at Indy and Jack; they’d lied to her, but why had they lied? They had no reason to unless they were afraid of her reaction, afraid that she’d explode, blow up at them, be unreasonable. When had she become that person?
“You don’t,” Alex said forcefully, his hand gripping her hip a little bit tighter. “You don’t expect too much, not from your brother, not from Indy, and certainly not from me. No arguments, okay?”
She wanted to fight him on it and she wanted to know why he felt this way about her, why he’d put her up on such a high pedestal, but his voice was so fierce and so fragile at the same time, she couldn’t do anything except say, “Okay.”
“Good, now come on,” he said. “Up you get. You’ve got a match this afternoon.
” He released her and she rolled away, scooting off the bed, not bothering to grab a sheet to cover up as she walked toward the en suite bathroom.
She could feel his eyes following her as she walked away, so she stopped at the door and glanced back over her shoulder.
“Coming?” she asked, and then kept walking, knowing in a moment she’d hear the creak of the bedsprings as he got up to join her.
Penny sat on the trainer’s table and checked her rackets, running her fingers slowly over the strings of each one before placing them in her bag, white with a gold, glittery Nike swoosh across the side.
Her outfit matched, a white fitted tank and a traditional white pleated tennis skirt, both with the same gold, glittery Nike swoosh logo.
Wimbledon’s dress regulation of white only on the court fit well with her own personal preferences.
“Are you sure about this?” Dom asked from across the trainers’ room.
“Your ankle really feels okay?” Jack asked anxiously.
She looked back and forth between both of them and then let her eyes slide over their heads to where Alex was leaning against the wall in the far corner, his mouth firmly shut.
“Why don’t you guys go check on Indy?” she suggested, deliberately not answering either of them. It had nothing to do with her ankle; they were just stressing her. “If I know her, she’s freaking out right about now and could use a little of your support.”
Dom rolled his eyes but patted her on the shoulder as he walked by. Jack didn’t move.
“You sure?” he mumbled. She could see the battle raging across his face, a war between being there for his little sister and checking on his girlfriend.
“Bro, go see her before she throws up on her new white dress.”
Jack exhaled sharply through his nose. “See you after, Pen.”
The door clicked shut behind him and Alex finally pushed off the wall, moving straight for her. “I won’t ask how your ankle feels and I won’t ask if you’re sure you want to play. So, I’m just going to say good luck.”
Penny reached out and took his hands in hers. “Thank you.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then stepped away, leaving the room without a backward glance. She knew he was heading for the stands. She’d only have a few more minutes to wait before she’d follow.
Just to be sure, she rotated her ankle and didn’t feel anything.
She twisted it in the other direction and again, nothing.
With no pain to worry about, at least not yet, she let her mind drift to her practice session with Indy just a few days ago, before she’d found out what her friend and her brother had been keeping from her.
No. She couldn’t think about that right now. She had a match to focus on.
Indy’s serve had been particularly good that day, but there’d been no pressure, no urgency for the inexperienced player.
They’d just been out there having fun and getting their work in.
Today would be a different story entirely.
She didn’t expect Indy to revert completely back to the bundle of nerves she’d been on the court when she first arrived at OBX, but first round at Wimbledon would definitely unnerve her.
Beyond that, though, Penny hadn’t been at her sharpest that day.
A few practice sessions with Alex between then and now had gotten her to where she wanted to be for the match.
It was possible, just based on that last training session, that Indy would be a little overconfident.
The mental game was important, especially at this level when physical skills were so often equal.
A knock at the door drew her from her thoughts. “Miss Harrison,” a court attendant called, “we’re ready for you.”
Slinging her racket bag over her shoulder and adjusting her ponytail, she slipped through the door, nodding to the attendant, a heavyset redheaded woman in an official Wimbledon blazer, who smiled and said, “This way, please.”
She followed her down the long corridor and then briefly out onto the grounds, where a security official joined them for the walk to No.
1 Court. The crowd meandering down the paths toward the courts parted for them, some fans wishing her luck as she went by.
Penny caught a glimpse of Indy’s long blond ponytail up ahead of her as she followed her own security guard onto their court.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” an announcer called to the fans already seated. “Miss Indiana Gaffney, a tournament wildcard, and Miss Penelope Harrison, our number four seed, both ladies of the United States of America.”
The crowd hadn’t fully arrived yet, and those who were there hadn’t completely settled into their seats, but Penny ignored them.
She might have some fans cheering for her because of her connection to Alex and what happened in France, but most tennis fans, especially in the early rounds of a tournament, wanted one thing: a long match and the underdog coming out on top.
She couldn’t rely on fan support. She needed to just go out and play her best. It was time to focus.
The ball boy brought her a few options, and she looked to Indy across the court as they both began to warm up their serves, falling easily into the pre-match routine they’d learned while training at OBX.