CHAPTER 11
Being Bennett’s partner is different from Cam’s.
It’s better.
We’re in sync. Almost like we can read each other’s mind. It’s weird and awesome at the same time. With Cam, we constantly called out who had the hit. Somehow, Bennett and I instinctively know who’s returning the ball without speaking out loud. Is this how professional teammates are?
All I know is my skills are improving with each volley. As much as I’d like to say it’s because I played a game already and am warmed up, I am certain it’s the man on the court next to me. How is it possible he makes me better?
This place must have weird voodoo magic.
Or maybe it’s just Bennett?
Bennett angles his paddle, tapping the ball barely over the net until it drops on Henry and Evie’s side of the court. Henry runs forward, but it’s too late. The ball bounces twice, and we get the point.
“Looks like I’m leaving undefeated—again—today.” Bennett flexes his biceps.
Evie growls. “You’re so arrogant.”
Bennett throws his arms out wide. “It”s not my fault I inherited long limbs.”
“Hate the game, not the player.” Henry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, bro, we’ve heard it all before.”
I’m grateful Cam is playing with Emerson. If we had to go up against Bennett and Evie, I’d never hear the end of Evie’s bragging today. She’ll be grumpy about losing this match, but I’ll remind her of her win against Cam and me, and she’ll be floating on cloud nine again.
I serve, immediately running forward, getting ready for whatever comes my way. Henry lobs the ball in my direction. We go back and forth, but no matter who hits—Evie or Henry—they aim for me. Smacking it back, I call out, “Are you purposely only hitting it toward me? Afraid of Big Bad Bennett?”
Bennett laughs.
“It’s called studying your opponent and learning how to beat them,” Henry says, hitting the ball in my square again.
I’m on fire, whacking the ball with perfect force. In my peripheral vision, Bennett stands in the middle of his square examining his fingernails.
“Bored?” I ask, thwacking the wiffle ball again.
“Terribly.”
My breaths are heavy and fast. I’m hustling and it’s catching up to me. We’ll lose if they refuse to let Bennett play. “Time-out!” I say.
Evie swings her paddle. “There are no time-outs in pickleball.”
“I didn’t agree to play two against one.” I purposely miss the shot, forcing Bennett to switch sides with me.
“You’re doing pretty well on your own,” Bennett says, with his lips turned up on one side, giving me an appreciative smile.
“For now,” I say. “They’re wearing me down.”
We set up again. Bennett serves, and sure enough, Henry aims for me. I clench my teeth, annoyed and edging on angry. “We play doubles, or we don’t play at all.”
“Come on, Mils,” Henry taunts. “Lighten up. It’s just a game.”
Is he for real right now?
“Exactly, bro,” Bennett says. “It’s just a game. Play fair. Unless you think this is the only way you can win?”
Evie chimes in. “No. We can handle you.” To prove her point, she knocks the ball to Bennett.
Bennett scores. Automatically, I hold out my fist—and shoe—for a bump. He returns it, grinning at me. My stomach flutters like a flag waving in the wind. I smile back, growing warm under his direct gaze.
Squeezing my eyes shut, pretending I have sweat in them, I break eye contact. If I don’t look at him, I can’t get lost in how hot he is.
Thankfully, the game goes by fast. Bennett really is a phenomenal player.
“One more point and we win,” Bennett says.
The final score is eleven to five.
“Good game, teammate.” I hold up my palm toward Bennett, offering him a high-five.
He smacks his hand against mine. “Right back at ya. It was fun.”
A bead of sweat trails down my back. “Ugh. I’m ready for a shower. I’m all sticky and gross.”
Bennett eyes me. “You don’t want to play another game? We need to keep our winning streak going.”
I reach to grab my left ankle, bringing it up to my butt, stretching my quad. “Let’s end on a high. We can play again another time.”
“Anyone else want to play me?” Bennett asks, eyeing everyone.
No one makes a sound.
“I’m ready for some retail therapy after that loss,” Evie says. “Want to go shopping, Millie?”
I don’t have money to buy anything besides essentials. But I’m used to going along with Evie back home and reminding myself that after college, I’ll actually get to purchase items. “Sure. But where are we going? We only passed like three businesses in town.”
Evie laughs. “That’s where we’re going. Linda’s gets the cutest stuff every year. I love checking it out before the tourist season officially starts.”
I can ask about job openings while we’re there. If I’m lucky, the store needs help for the summer.
“Correction,” Henry says. “You like buying a bunch of junk you hardly ever use to help keep Linda’s in business.”
“I’d rather Evie shop at small businesses than large corporations who support unethical work environments,” Bennett counters.
My heart is a baby chick, growing under a heat lamp. Bennett cares about supporting small businesses? Someone who has a trust fund?
Why can’t he be a snob? Or mean? Give me anything that makes me not like him.
Instead, he says something that most people wouldn’t care about, but I do. And my like for him is quickly turning into a crush. But this is my usual pattern. The entire reason I’m on a man-ban.
A guy smiles at me. I think he’s attractive and nice, and the next thing you know, I’m browsing wedding gowns online.
I have to get out of this rut.
“Evie, do you mind if I come shopping with you?” Bennett asks. “I’d love to help Linda’s as well. She’s always been nice when I’ve gone in there, and Jen couldn’t get enough of the coconut lotion she sells.”
Bennett coming was not the deal. I’m mentally pouting and stomping my foot like a four-year-old throwing a tantrum. I don’t want him joining us. I’m ready for alone time with my bestie, away from the man who stole too much of my attention today.
“Yes!” Evie says excitedly. “We’d love to have you join us. Right, Mils?”
I fake a smile. “Absolutely.” Not.