CHAPTER 12
ALEXANDRA
The Montreal tournament wrapped up two days ago, and Olivia fell short of the title, losing in a tough three-set semifinal match.
She probably landed here in Cincinnati yesterday, sliding straight back into prep mode for her run here. That’s how she operates: finishes one fight, boards a plane, already sharpening her focus for the next.
Meanwhile, I'm over here trying not to obsess over how effortlessly Olivia pulls off competing at that level and still looking composed under pressure. Seriously, how does she make tennis look like a casual Sunday stroll?
The door to my hotel room creaked open, and Archie stepped inside, his usual easy smile in place.
“Hey, Arch,” I teased, “how’s the leg after diving for that impossible shot?”
He laughed, dropping his bag by the door before plopping down on the edge of my bed. “Still sore, but worth it.”
“Just remember, it’s training, not the actual tournament.” I joked as Archie scrambled across the court, diving to reach a tricky shot.
A sheepish grin on his face. “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to pull through.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Honestly, it’s like nothing can stop you, even if it means launching yourself like a human missile for every ball.”
He smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m just stating facts. Next thing you know, you’ll be demanding a statue outside the academy, diving included.”
“Funny you mention that,” he said with mock seriousness, “I already told dad to start sketching up some plans.”
I rolled my eyes, grinning. “Great. Just what we need, a giant bronze you frozen mid-dive, towering over us all.”
He nudged me playfully. “Hey, you’re just jealous I’m the star now.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I missed this, the way he could tease me without even trying, the way our words always bounced back and forth like a rhythm only we knew.
“Alright,” I said, standing up. “I’ve got to keep my body moving, though. Got my first tennis match tomorrow, so I’m heading to the gym. You wanna come?”
He shook his head with a grin. “Nah, I’m gonna rest up."
I laughed. “Suit yourself. I’ll catch you later.”
With that, I grabbed my gear and headed out to the gym, ready to get my body firing again.
As I walked in, I noticed a few of the guys from the tennis team hanging around, their eyes not so casually lingering on me. I gave them nothing more than a cool, indifferent glance. I headed straight to the treadmill and let the familiar rhythm drown out everything else.
I set the treadmill to a steady pace, focusing on building my endurance. And for the first time in a long while, I felt a strong pull deep in my chest, the kind that had been quietly waiting, patient but persistent.
After finishing my run on the treadmill, I felt lighter somehow, like I’d just reclaimed a piece of myself I thought I’d lost. That’s when I spotted Olivia sitting on a stationary bike, casually pedaling away. I must’ve been so locked in during my run that I barely noticed who came and went.
My eyes then flicked back to the group of tennis guys who were also on the stationary bike, not far away from where Olivia was pedaling. They were definitely giving Olivia those try-to-flirt looks, the kind that made it obvious they were interested.
Without a second thought, I hopped off the treadmill and casually slid in next to Olivia on the bike machine without saying a word.
Almost immediately, the tennis guys picked up on the subtle blockade and, after exchanging a few frustrated glances, started making their way out of the gym. That left just me, Olivia, and a few female players scattered far across the room, too far to be part of this little moment.
As the room settled into a quiet hum, Olivia glanced over at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve got a talent for making unwanted admirers disappear.”
“Someone’s got to keep the peace around here.” I deadpanned.
Her smile softened, then she nudged me lightly with her elbow. “So, I guess that makes you the unofficial bodyguard now?”
I shrugged, keeping my tone light. “Guess I’m just doing my part. Can’t let you get sidetracked by the usual suspects.”
She rolled her eyes, a teasing glint in her gaze. “Please, those ‘usual suspects’ wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit them in the face. You could probably write a manual.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re basically the unofficial expert in cutting through the nonsense.” She teased.
I chuckled softly. “Well, if it keeps the distractions at bay, I’m doing everyone a favor.”
We shared a brief smile. I caught myself watching her for a split second longer than I intended.
Finally, I cleared my throat, letting the words tumble out. “By the way, you were amazing in Montreal. Even if it didn’t go all the way, you played some insane tennis out there.”
She gave a small, almost shy smile. “Thanks. Some days… everything just… I don’t know… doesn’t click.”
“Yeah, I get that. It really depends on which court you’re playing on, whether it’s fast or slow. Totally unfair.” I leaned back, trying to sound casual even though my brain was busy cataloging every little detail about her.
A quiet laugh escaped her. “Exactly.”
“You know what’s weird? With all the tournaments, all the training blocks, all the near-misses… we’ve never actually played each other. Not once.”
Her brows lifted, a slow, thoughtful rise. “Huh. You’re right.” She leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in that amused, analytical way she got when she was working something out. “Guess we’ve just been orbiting around each other on opposite sides of every draw.”
“Or,” I said, letting a teasing edge slip into my voice, “maybe the universe is just terrified to find out who’d actually win.”
I caught the faintest grin playing, like she was entertaining a thought she wasn’t quite ready to share. A tiny curl at the corner of her lips, barely there, but impossible for me to unsee.
“You look like you’re plotting a crime,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “A very elegant, well-planned crime.”
Her grin widened, eyes catching the light in a way that made my pulse stutter. “Not a crime…” she said, voice dipping into something playful. “More like a wager.”
I raised a brow, trying to keep the sudden rush of adrenaline off my face. “A wager?”
She leaned in just a hair, not enough to close the distance, just enough to make the world feel smaller. “What if,” she murmured, low and conspiratorial, “we both get through our quarterfinals… and finally face each other?”
My breath hitched, but I held her gaze. “And what?”
Her smile curved, slow and wicked. “Winner gets to pick something the loser has to do.”
A challenge from the girl I’ve been half in love with since childhood. Totally normal, right?
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “Dangerous territory, Smythe. You don’t strike me as the type to go easy on someone.”
“Why would I?” she shot back, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I shuffled a chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah, no,” I said. “I don’t do wagers.”
She raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Come on, it’s motivation. Besides, you’re getting back into rhythm, and this could be the perfect spark. Who knows?” She tilted her head, a teasing challenge in her eyes. “Maybe you’ll even make it to the finals.”
I gave her a cool smile, the kind I used to hide how violently my heart was reacting. “Friendly, huh? And why exactly should I take orders from you?”
She lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug, though the spark in her eyes didn’t fade for a second. “Because a little competition never hurt anyone. And let’s be honest… It’s a lot more fun when something’s on the line.”
The silence stretched for a beat before I let a slow, traitorous smile slip through my usual armor. “Alright, fine. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Her grin lit up so brightly it felt like someone had flicked on a spotlight. “Good,” she said. “Because if I win, you have to smile more often. Press conferences, walk-ons, matches, and everything. And not the broody smirk. A real smile. Full, genuine, teeth-showing smile.”
I turned my head toward her, eyebrows shooting up before I could stop them. “Wow. Okay, that’s a steep price. I might need to reconsider this whole agreement.”
“Too late. You already said yes. You’re locked in.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, dropping my gaze to the display screen as if it could save me. How was I supposed to resist her when she looked at me like that? Like she’d figured me out years ago and was just waiting for me to catch up?
I nudged the resistance up a level, pretending it was the workout making my breath hitch. “Alright, fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on smiling. I have my limits, you know.”
“Limits are for people who don’t like challenges,” she shot back, barely missing a pedal rhythm. “And lucky for me, you love a good challenge… even if you’ll never admit it.”
I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. “Alright, alright. Fine. You win. I’ll play along.”
Her eyes sparkled like she’d just won something far bigger than a bet. “Good. Then tell me, what are your conditions?”
Of course, she’d ask that. And of course, that’s exactly when my brain decided to short-circuit. Normally, I’d have a sharp retort locked and loaded, but with my heart racing and her watching me out of the corner of her eye, thinking straight felt impossible.
I muttered, “Okay… if I win, you have to treat me to lunch. Anywhere I pick.”
For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw a hint of color creep into her cheeks, quick and nothing worth mentioning.
Then she let out a laugh. “Lunch? That’s it? That’s your big demand?” She shot me a sideways grin. “You do realize you’re making this way too easy for me.”
I shot her a mock glare. “Hey, it’s a strategic move. Plus, it’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you. I mean...well, you’re not so bad after all. You know, I haven’t really had friends here.”