CHAPTER 8
George
I look over, my eyes hidden by the stupid sunglasses that Jack insists I wear when we come to the club.
I want to play with him, so I don’t say that it doesn’t make any difference, people still recognize me.
Now it’s getting busier, I’ve already seen at least three covert phone snaps and a totally blatant one – who doesn’t turn their flash off in daylight?
He’s still speaking with the two women, so I carry on practising, taking deep breaths and trying to tune everything else out.
I can’t help but glance though, and out of the corner of my eye I see the petite brunette looking over. I decide to show off, executing a blinder of a serve. It still goes left, but luckily it’s in, just landing the right side of the line in the bottom corner.
I sneak another look as I wipe my face with my T-shirt and even from here I can see why Jack doesn’t want me to meet her.
She’s gorgeous. Stunning. I can’t clearly make out her eyes, hidden under a cap, but I don’t miss her flushed cheeks or full puffy lips, parted slightly. And her body is hot. All shapely curves and fantastic tits, pushed up by her tight sports bra. Fuck.
She turns away and I openly stare now, eyes straight on her perfectly rounded arse. Fuck me. No wonder he’s been keeping her away.
I snap back into focus when I remember where I am and go to pick up another ball.
I look again as I bend over, but she’s gone. Straightening, I see Jack following her as she sprints back to the entrance. Her friend in the tennis dress collects their things and scurries after them, head bowed.
Not wanting to attract more attention, I go back to my serve but can’t control my thoughts of the mysterious brunette. Trying to push them away, I practise the same moves again and again until my body grows tired.
——
It’s been over twenty minutes and with no sign of Jack coming back, I head out. Cap back on properly and pulled low to avoid speaking to anyone, I sneak through a back gate and see him leaning against my car.
‘What was all that about?’ I ask as I get closer.
‘No idea,’ he shrugs. ‘I tried running after her, but she just left. I’ve tried to text, but nothing.’ He looks at the ground. ‘Sorry I didn’t come back. I’ve been helping Rosa. She wants to sign up for lessons.’
His cheeks turn red as he uncharacteristically fiddles with his racket, hitting his palm against the strings.
‘Rosa? She’s the leggy one in the tennis dress?’ He gives me a look, but nods.
‘I see. Just lessons?’ I ask, trying to hide my smile.
‘Yes, just lessons, arsehole.’ He punches my arm and I grin. ‘You know I draw the line at fooling around with my students and, anyway, I’m pretty sure she’s hung up on some other guy.’
‘Ah, that’s rough. Sorry, mate.’
‘Don’t be, it’s nothing.’ He goes to leave. ‘We’re just friends, I’m helping her out with some lessons, that’s all.’
‘OK, I’ll believe you.’ I open the car door and get in as my phone buzzes.
‘I’ll call you before I head to Paris.’ I open my phone; it’s Gordon reminding me to be ready for an 8 a.m. pickup.
Eurgh. Leaning out of the window, I shout to Jack as he walks away.
‘Jack,’ I say innocently. ‘What’s her friend’s name? ’
‘Nice try,’ he shouts back, not even turning around. ‘Good luck for next week! Love you!’
I laugh to myself as I pull away, thanking the universe that I have a friend like Jack.
But my mind wanders back to the dark-haired girl as I drive home. Who is she? What happened tonight to make her leave so abruptly?
But mostly: why can’t I get her out of my mind?