Chapter 23 #2
Finally pulling back, she turned and introduced Paolo, which wasn’t nearly as awkward as it could have been because Alex and Penny appeared just in time and distracted everyone with an offer of drinks, water, coffee, tea… mimosa?
And as they all put their orders in, Jasmine saw Teddy quietly edge out of the room out of the corner of her eye. Despite herself, she followed and caught him halfway up the stairs.
“Thank you,” she said, and he froze, shoulders sagging.
“No problem,” he said, but didn’t turn to face her.
He took another step, but she had to ask.
“How did you know?”
Teddy finally turned and shot her a dimpled grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, only a glimmer of the usual sparkle there.
He winked but didn’t answer. And she found she didn’t need him to.
He knew because of course he knew. He was her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone.
He knew she wanted her parents here but wouldn’t ever work up the courage to call them herself, so he took the hit for her.
“Thank you,” she said again.
He nodded and then turned away, jogging up the rest of the stairs. As she watched him disappear beyond the landing, she straightened her shoulders.
Now she had a match to win.
The chair umpire called the end of warm-ups and Jasmine retreated back to her chair. If she won today, she would be only two more wins away from her first tour championship, two more wins from already proving, to the world, to her parents, to herself, that she’d made the right choice.
But one match at a time.
She’d gotten cocky the last time she and Indy had played, had thought victory was fait accompli. Jasmine wasn’t going to make that same mistake twice.
The afternoon sun had burned away any trace of cloud and was now pounding down on the court. Jasmine had worked up a sweat during warm-ups, but it was nothing like the heat they trained in back home.
At the thought of home, her eyes traveled to the box in the corner of the court where her parents were sitting.
She was so glad they were here. She needed them to see up close just how right she was about all of this, and she was so, so grateful to Teddy for calling them.
Her gaze moved up a row to where Teddy was seated, and she tilted her head.
Natalie was beside him. She hadn’t expected to see her there, but the girl sent her a wave while Teddy said something that made her laugh.
She was so different off the court. Lighthearted and sweet.
Though just like when she was playing, she had no problem going after what she wanted.
Jasmine bit her lip, feeling the phantom touch from the night of the gala, remembering the press of the other girl’s mouth, the way her body had, for the briefest of moments, molded against hers, the shock of it, but not… not in a bad way. It was just different. But still exciting.
Yeah, this was a line of thinking that needed way more time than she had right now.
She turned toward the end of the row, and there was Paolo, his eyes already on her when she looked his way, and flashes of this morning played through her mind, warm skin, soapy hands, the way he’d come undone at her touch.
A flash of heat that had nothing to do with the weather spread through her, and she had to look away.
There’d be time for this, for all of it, after she won this match.
She was ready.
Was Indy?
They would know soon enough.
Indy served first and she didn’t hesitate, firing down the middle of the court.
“Out!” the line judge called. It had just missed the line, but it had missed.
Still, Indy squinted across the net like she could see the mark on the grass. There was no replay at Crystal Palace, so they were at the mercy of the human eye.
Indy shook her head and shrugged it off, preparing for another serve, one Jasmine already knew wouldn’t have nearly the firepower of the last.
She was right.
The ball was hit firmly but placed securely inside the line.
Jasmine stepped into it and fired a forehand crosscourt.
Indy managed to block it back and they both retreated to the baselines, sending groundstroke after groundstroke over the net.
Then Indy made the mistake of going to the backhand side, and Jasmine swiveled her hips, unleashing her new one-hander over the net and down the line, a shot that would have been impossible for her just a week earlier.
“Love–fifteen.”
After a quick wipe of the towel over her face, Jasmine returned to the baseline and waited for Indy to gather herself on the other side of the court.
The tall blond was taking her time, using the towel on her face, arms, and legs.
There was no way she’d built up that much of a sweat in one point.
Then she took the ball girl’s offerings and tossed a few of the options back.
Finally, Indy approached the baseline, and Jasmine set herself, bent over at the waist, her racket out in front, weight balanced.
Indy coiled her body down toward the ground and then exploded through the ball, her bread and butter, this one landing in, but Jasmine was ready for it.
Her return was even faster than the serve that preceded it, and it buried the shot deep into the corner before Indy could even take a step in that direction.
“Love–thirty.”
“Come on!” Jasmine yelled, pumping her fist, and the crowd roared back at her. It had been a hell of a shot.
“Quiet please,” the chair umpire told the fans, and they settled into a low buzz.
Indy was prepared faster this time, bouncing on her feet, her usual serve routine. Jasmine stood at the baseline, ready for anything. The serve came hard and fast again, but long.
“Out.”
They reset and Jasmine leapt up in perfect position as another laser beam came across the court. She fired a return and it landed long, but the judge had already called, “Out!”
Double fault.
“Love–forty.”
Jasmine’s chest tightened and so she inhaled slowly through her nose, trying to block out the noise on the court.
The crowd was already fired up and applauding, but Jasmine studied the strings of her racket, pushing them back into straight lines that had become a little funky dealing with the velocity of Indy’s serve.
Another deep breath and she moved to the baseline.
One more point and she’d have a break, taking a lead to start the match, a lead that she had absolutely no plans of relinquishing.