Chapter 1 #2
I get that. The media has been paying attention to me for barely six months, and some of the stories seem like they came fully out of the writer’s imagination.
“I know. Last year at Wimbledon, a UK tabloid made up an entire story about a pop singer and me dating after he showed up to my match.”
“Oh, so you didn’t date him?” He winks at me. That Google search must have been thorough if he saw that.
Landon Battle truly spent his precious time during a New Year’s industry party trying to find out about me.
Mind blown.
As he takes a sip of his beer, I take a longer look at him, my eyes roaming up and down his body. In a crisp gray tailored suit with no tie, he looks beyond sexy. All man yet beautiful at the same time.
“Hmmm,” he says quietly, seeing me check him out and letting me do it. His eyes start to intensify in focus as he seems to be processing something himself.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, breaking the moment.
“I have to stick to water tonight,” I respond, holding up the water that I’m still nursing. “I’m in training for our first swing into the Australian Open.”
“I don’t have that problem since we got knocked out of playoff contention for the year,” he notes, waving the fancy beer in his hand.
With one more look at me, he shifts his body as if ready to walk back down the hallway away from the restrooms.
“Come with me,” he instructs, pausing as if waiting for my response. Without questioning his directive, I start walking, and as soon as I’m ahead of him, he begins moving too.
As we leave the hallway in tandem, I feel his hand lightly touch the small of my back, which is exposed because of my dress’s design. I shiver slightly at the contact. He ignores the response—he had to have felt it—and leads me across the party into a side room.
“Why don’t we duck in here for a second.” He’s so commanding, I don’t even question the order.
A quick look around the wood-paneled room shows that it’s completely empty. We walk in and I sit in one of the large window frames, while he stops and stays standing, about four feet away.
He leans back to push the door to the room almost fully closed, with only a small slit of light coming in from the larger party room. “You seemed like you might need a minute away from networking when I was watching you,” he explains. “God knows I’ve been there.”
“You’re the face of everything already, do you even need to come to these events?” My tone is playful, but I’m also genuinely curious how it works when you’re as famous as he is.
“Oh, you’re on your way to that status too, I suspect,” he responds, with a certainty I don’t quite yet feel myself. “Yeah, you only have so many years as an athlete to build up your endorsement money. Gotta keep all the relationships strong while you can.”
“No pressure, huh?” I half-heartedly joke, but what he says is so real to me.
He sees through my comment and responds athlete to athlete. “Are you nervous for this year? Do you get nervous?” His hazel eyes are locked on mine, seeming sincerely interested in my answer.
I respond by answering him honestly. “Not normally. But this is my moment to make it or not. Pro tennis—it’s insanely demanding.
Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally, on top of all our travel.
You never know how long you have, whether you’ll stay healthy.
And my ranking still isn’t high enough to avoid the best players until the very end of tournaments.
I’ll be playing them from the middle rounds on, so I have to be at my best for several matches in a row to have a shot. ”
“I saw online about your knee injury,” Landon says. “It looks like you came back even stronger though.”
I give a small chuckle. “So much work behind that, as I’m sure you can guess. People look at the bits of red in my hair and assume I’ve a fiery personality. My dad says that all my fire burns inside instead. I couldn’t walk away from tennis without fighting back. If that doesn’t sound crazy?”
“It sounds like the words of a champion.”
I blush a little at his comment. What a thing to hear from a top athlete like him.
He breaks the intensity of the moment, taking another sip of his beer. “And is tennis what you want to do with your life? Coach, commentate, or whatever, once your playing career is over?”
“Maybe commentate or coach locally.” I stand back up as sitting feels a little awkward in this short dress.
“I don’t know if I could coach pro and keep up the traveling that’s required by the tour.
It’s hard to have any relationships when you’re on the road ten months a year.
Hard to build a real life, you know? We end up being incestuous in the tennis world. ”
The corners of his mouth raise up at that last sentence. “That’s right, you have a lot of tournaments where the guys are playing at the same time, so you overlap with them? I remember that at the U.S. Open when I went once.”
“Exactly. And if it isn’t a men’s player, maybe it’s a hitting partner, trainer, media person, etc. Or if you’re into girls, players can hook up. Although that’s rare since we are all fiercely competitive with each other.”
He smiles knowingly at that sentiment. “Shocking. I can’t imagine hooking up with someone that I am going to face across the line of scrimmage.”
Wait, am I misreading this situation, is Landon saying he is…
“But I don’t swing that way, otherwise who knows,” he says.
Ahhh, okay.
“Like I said earlier, your reputation does precede you,” I tease again.
He crinkles his nose a little. “I’m a better man than my reputation, I promise.”
I don’t know if he’s telling the truth, but I wouldn’t blame any woman for wanting a night with him. Not only is he hot, it’s also becoming evident that he’s a good guy. He’s genuinely engaged in what I’m saying, not just staring at my body like way too many men do at parties like these.
Maybe missing out on hooking up with Eli tonight will lead to something better for the evening. If only Maggie knew what was happening right now, she would lose it.
I pull my focus back into the conversation. Shifting slightly closer to me, Landon redirects to a safer topic. “But yeah, being on the tennis tour sounds so different from the football world. We travel, but within reason—we can definitely put down roots. I love Orlando so far.”
“It’s a great town. Do you go out much there? Can you without being bombarded with fans?”
He nods. “We have spots where we can chill without it getting crazy. And I did just go to one of the big amusement parks for the first time, for a Waves event. That ended up being a blast.”
“Oh, I used to be obsessed with the theme parks there when we had a break at our training academy,” I share, excitement in my voice as I remember my childhood passion.
A wide grin stretches across his face. “I bet you looked cute with those mouse ears.”
I smile back, and we just look at each other for a minute. Then the air in the room noticeably shifts with our prolonged connection—more intense, more tethered, more electric.
Another beat passes, and something flashes in his eyes as he looks at me. Like he made a decision. He starts slowly walking closer, and the four-foot distance between us shrinks.
“So, Gloria Reilly, what do you like to do for fun?”