Chapter 29
twenty-nine
The evening is a whirlwind of mandatory media and photo ops, Karolína, Pen, and Aleks hovering around me at every turn.
It’s so late by the time all is said and done that I’m staggering to my room, my muscles aching and my calves begging me to get out of the heels Pen’s friend-who-is-also-a-stylist put me in, the red-and-black bodycon dress so tight, it’s become a second skin.
But I have a couple of important things I need to get done before I can go to bed.
The group message has been going off incessantly, so I step out of the heels, groaning at how good it feels to be flat once more, and swipe through them quickly.
Shots Fired
Delilah
MY BEST FRIEND IS THE FRENCH OPEN CHAMPION
Harper
NIC I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!
Sahar
I feel like I’m going to need to bow the next time I see you
Harper
Agreed, you’re too cool for us.
Noah
Insane match, Nic. Huge congrats!!
You liked “Insane match, Nic. Huge congratulations”
Matteo
Congratulations, Nic.
Austin laughed at “Congratulations, Nic.”
Austin
Dude’s a robot
But seriously, was so cool to watch from your box today
Will be replaying the way the crowd cheered for you over and over in my head as motivation to get myself one of these babies
Maya texted me separately, many variations of congratulations typed in all caps, not a single one without a typo. She then sent a video of her and Cooper in front of the television, jumping up after the final point and screaming excitedly.
I thank everyone before switching to my messages with Delilah.
Did you find it?
Delilah
Heck yeah I did!
1 image
The goods have been secured. I’m en route now
Why are you talking like that?
Delilah
Can you please let me have my covert ops mission just this once
A few minutes later, after I’ve changed out of the dress and into a pair of Stratosphere shorts, a tank top, and Aleks’ quarter-zip, which, sadly, no longer smells like him, a complex knock sounds at my suite door.
I open it to Delilah, who wears all black, including the hood over her head.
She’s hunched over, hiding the paper bag in her hand.
Matteo stands behind her, his curly brown hair messy and his hands in his sweatpants pockets.
He looks completely out of place and simultaneously perfect beside Delilah, who he watches with the softest, kindest eyes.
“Dear god,” I murmur. “Don’t you have a match tomorrow?” I ask him rhetorically. The women’s final is always played on Saturday and the men’s is Sunday, which means Matteo will be on court in less than twenty-four hours.
“I wasn’t going to let her walk around the city on her own at this hour,” he answers gruffly. “Plus, I sleep in before late matches.”
“How about a little applause for your best friend, who found comparable limeade and Sour Patch Bites in Paris when everything should be closed?”
Instead, I pull her into my arms, squeezing her once.
“The goods! You’re squishing them!”
I start drawing back, but she crushes me tighter to her. “I’m kidding. If you’re willing to give me a hug, I’m taking it. Aleks and his strange cravings can wait.” Quieter, she says, “I’m so proud of you, Nic. So unbelievably proud of you.”
There it is. Joy in the place of the uncomfortable longing that used to live in my ribcage when spending time with my best friend.
We step away, and I dab below my eyes. Apparently, I’m now someone who gets misty-eyed in front of people after years of hiding frustrated tears. I chalk it up to the long two weeks I’ve spent here and take the bag from her.
“Thank you so much for doing this.”
“Anything for you.” Delilah beams. “Good luck! I leave early Monday morning, so I don’t know if I’ll see you before then…”
“If you’re here tomorrow, there will be space in my box for you,” Matteo chimes in softly.
“Assuming I’m not dead tired after press, I’ll be there.”
Delilah nods, and they head toward the elevator, but she turns back. “Don’t get too randy in public spaces!”
Matteo picks her up easily, carrying her to the elevator while grumbling about bedtime. I’ll have to thank him for that later.
After putting on a pair of socks and slides, my feet too sore for anything more than that, I grab the crumpled sheet by my phone, my wallet, and the paper bag and make my way to Aleks’ room.
I didn’t think to check if he was awake, but luckily, the door swings open moments after my knock.
His smirk is wide, his hair is disheveled, and his eyes sweep over my messy bun, photo-ready makeup, and his sweatshirt.
“Coming in?” he asks in greeting.
“Actually, I was thinking we could go to the roof.”
He grabs his things and follows me. “You should know that if you’re planning to kill me, I have two weapons on my person.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” I answer seriously.
There’s a beat where he digests this, then, “And yet you’ve made no such indication that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
I roll my eyes, stepping into the opening elevator. I select the top floor and swipe my access card. It took Pen a long and charming phone call to convince this hotel, who sponsored my stay while I was here, to allow this.
The doors open to a view of the city, the Eiffel Tower shining brilliantly straight ahead of us. There are blankets and pillows on a raised platform, and I watch Aleks realize what’s happening.
If the last nearly three months have shown me anything, it’s that Aleks spends too much of his time worrying about others.
His siblings, his parents, me. His days are full of bettering other people’s lives, to the point that I’m not sure he stops to think about his own.
After everything we’ve been through, I wanted to be the person who makes him feel special.
Want to be that person.
“Nic, what…?” he trails off quietly, eyes snapping to mine. “Did you do this for me? When did you find the time?”
“I have the best friends and team in the world. And of course I did this for you.” I glance down. “You deserve it and more for all you do.”
“Can I hug you?” he asks, but before he can finish, I step into his arms, my hands slipping around his neck and into his hair. I inhale, my favorite scent wrapping around me like I’m home.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair, kissing me before leading me to the blankets. We settle into them, stars twinkling above us. When I look at him again, he’s staring at me with a soft smile. “Hi,” he whispers. “How do you feel?”
“I…I’m in shock? Unbelievably happy. And so tired. I got asked so many stupid questions during media today too, and…What?” I ask when his smile widens.
“Nothing, I just missed getting you to talk. We’ve been so focused on training that we haven’t done this in a while.” Aleks shifts closer, like he’s drawn to me. I feel it too, but there are a few things I want to talk about first.
“Anya. Was she…”
“Spitting mad? Yeah. She’s probably still throwing a tantrum. If we’re quiet enough, we might be able to hear it. But I don’t want to talk about her.”
“But we need to. Because if we want to move forward, I don’t want that over our heads. I want us to be on the same page about everything.”
“Everything, huh?”
“Aleks.”
“Fine. What’s there to talk about?”
“Let’s say we were to start dating. What does that look like with your family? And a few years down the line?”
He’s too happy to answer, pulling me to him. We kiss, his hand cupping my jaw, until I lean away. “Aleks, please!”
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t know how I’m expected to not kiss the new French Open champion when she looks this good and tells me she wants to date me.
” At my pointed glare, he raises a hand in surrender.
“Alright. If we were to start dating, I would tell my family. My parents would be cool about it, when they eventually talked to me again. Dima and Natasha would congratulate me because I’m sure my obsession with you is obvious.
Anya would throw an absolute fit. Then I’d tell her that I don’t care what she thinks.
If she wants any sort of relationship with me, she needs to grow up and make nice with the woman I love. At least off court.”
The word pushes inside my chest, sighing happily around my heart. This time, it’s me who kisses him. He mumbles something into my lips, and I ask, “What?”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
I fake a beleaguered sigh, nodding for him to continue.
“And down the line, when I begged you to marry me, she’ll have hopefully matured a lot and will accept you into the family, if not as a sister, then as someone she’s indifferent to.”
My eyebrows rise. “We aren’t even dating and you’re talking about marriage? That’s a bit of a jump, no?”
“Oh, solnyshko. It’s going to happen. It’s not a matter of if, but when.”
I blow out a breath. The notion is terrifying, especially since this would be my first real relationship. But with Aleks, I’m optimistic. “Then I guess I’d have to be good with Anya’s indifference.”
“Really? You wouldn’t try to bash her skull in if we went on trips with my family?”
“I make no promises. But for you? I would do my absolute best.”
Aleks laughs. “In my dream world, you two get along off court, and on court, you continue pushing each other to be the best you can be. Because at the end of the day, rivals are the people who shape us into our best forms. Maybe not emotionally, but certainly our games. One day, when you’re going into the Hall of Fame, maybe you’ll even thank her for being that push. ”
“That is light-years away and very best-case-scenario, but I see what you’re saying.”
My phone lights up beside me. Carmen Aguirre Vassilakis’ name flashes on the screen, and Aleks scoffs, perhaps at the absurdity of her calling or of her being in my phone under her full name. “You can take that. I know it’s what you’ve been hoping for.”
Shock registers on his face when I decline it.
It’s strange not needing my mother’s approval anymore. I’ve spent a quarter of a century wishing for her to care about me, and now that she does…
What does it matter? She hasn’t been here for my trials and tribulations, why should she get to be here for my wins?
I shrug. “When I was being passed around my box, I realized I’d been searching for the wrong thing.
Or rather, searching in all the wrong places for something I’d already had.
I have everything I could ever want or need right now.
I don’t want to spoil it with a cold congratulations and a promise to talk to me that she doesn’t mean to keep.
” His lips tilt down at the idea. “I have something more important to discuss.”
I finally open the paper bag. Delilah included a bottle of champagne, which I set between us. I also place his limeade and candy in front of him.
Aleks glances at it, surprised, then at me questioningly.
“Aleks, I’m brash. I’m easily annoyed. I’m angry a lot, and it’s often unwarranted or a product of a lot of factors both in and out of my control.
I struggle to allow myself to feel things, and I’m terrible at being vulnerable.
A part of me is certain I’m unlovable, and there are going to be days where I test you, want you to prove your love to me even when it’s unfair.
I might lash out for fear that you’ll stay long enough to see something you’ll run from.
In every conceivable way, I can’t imagine I’d be a good partner.
And yet I love you. And I’m selfish because I want you to love me despite all of that. ”
“Nic, I just said I love—”
“I know, I know, sorry,” I say, swiping at a rogue tear.
“I practiced this speech like fifteen times and didn’t account for you saying it first. Anyway, you once told me that nothing belongs together more than I belong with you, and I’m inclined to agree.
So if you believe we can handle whatever your sister throws at us and fighting when we don’t agree on my training and the thousands of other factors that could come up, I’d really like to do more than fuck you. ”
Aleks’ head tilts. “Is that what you practiced?”
“No, but you made me lose my train of thought and that’s the best I can give you right now.”
“God, you’re so cute.” He cups my jaw once more, tilting my head so I’m staring into his eyes. “Nic, it’s okay that you’re brash. I love when you’re mean to me. I’m your cross-court rally, showing up for you always and breaking your walls down.”
The words startle a laugh out of me. “That’s the most absurd and corny thing you could have said.”
“Maybe so, but I realized it when you were wearing Anya down today. It’s true.
I don’t care about the bad days as long as you spend them with me.
And I don’t care if you snap at me, as long as you kiss me later when you’re feeling better.
Every time you think I’ll falter, I’ll prove to you again and again that I love you.
I want to spend my life traveling the world with you, helping you reach your full potential, and one day—and this might scare you—raising a couple of mini-yous.
If you want.” He clears his throat. “I know that’s a lot to throw at you right now, but just so it’s on the table. ”
“It’s not a lot,” I whisper. It’s a life I’ve always been sure I wouldn’t get to have. A life I was certain no one would want to stick around for. But Aleks makes me believe it could exist. That we can, someday down the road, have kids who are loved and prioritized by both of us.
I may not be easy to love, but Aleks has made it seem effortless.
“Can I kiss you now?”
I move out of his hold, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper.
“No. Eat your candy. I have one more thing to say.” Handing it to him when I realize he’s not eating, I continue, “I want you to know I took this seriously. Because of you, I’ve learned so much about myself outside of tennis.
I’m more than Nic the tennis player. I’m Nic, lover of sunrise walks and hater of sweet tea and artsy movies, among other things.
So thank you for sticking with me and helping me despite everything I threw at you.
And while I’m going to continue learning about myself, the one thing I want to do every single day is love you. ”
He drops the paper and scoops me into his arms, pulling me over his body, our mouths melding together. His hand slips into my hair, and I groan in protest when he pulls away. Somewhere, the champagne, limeade, and candy have been knocked over.
“I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you along the way too.” His gaze drags over my body. He grins. “All of you.”
“God, Aleks. You ruined it.”
But I kiss him again, hard, because I can and because I love him so much, the thought of not kissing him makes my chest tight.
I’ve always found uncharted territory daunting. But for the first time in my life, I allow myself to sink into it. To welcome the embrace of the one person who refuses to be cut by my jagged edges.
Wholly safe and profoundly loved at the center of someone else’s universe.