Chapter 4
FISHER
“Fuck, are you serious man?” Elias says when Noah’s done filling him in on his thoughts of retiring. “You still have some good years left in you.”
Noah shrugs and pulls a tennis ball out of his pocket. “I know, and who knows what will happen, but I just wanted you to know. I don’t want to blindside you or anything. I’d understand if you want to find another doubles partner.”
Elias snorts and swipes the tennis ball from Noah’s hand. “Fat chance. I only do this with you because it’s fun.”
“How are things with you and Whimsy?” Noah asks, shielding his eyes to see the shot Elias sends over the net. “Any thoughts on proposing?”
Elias chokes. “Not yet, but maybe a year from now.” He grabs a lone ball off the ground and bounces it. “I know she’s it for me, but we don’t feel rushed.”
I swipe a bottle of water out of the cooler and busy myself with untwisting the cap and taking a large swallow of the liquid. It’s weird having my best friend, and Elias, coupled up and I’m over here with no one. There hasn’t been anyone since Ebba.
“What about you?” Elias asks. When I don’t say anything, he says, “Hey, Fisher. I’m talking to you.”
I shake my head free of memories better left in the past. “Huh?”
“I asked if you’re seeing someone?”
Dropping the water bottle back into the cooler, I squint against the sun. Where are my sunglasses? “No. I don’t have time.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.
Looking around, I spot my sunglasses on the chair and scoop them up.
When I turn back around with them on my face, I find Elias looking at me with a knowing smirk.
I’m glad the sunglasses at least shield some of my surprise, because that smile seems to say he knows how down bad I am for his sister.
Surely, it’s just my conscience psyching me out, but it’s entirely possible she filled her twin in on our relationship sometime in the past six years.
“Huh,” Elias muses. “I have some friends that might be interested if you’re looking.”
I freeze at the offer and pick up a spare racket, spinning it in my hand as a distraction more than anything else.
Is he testing me to see what I say?
“I’m not,” I reply.
“Fisher prefers his hand,” Noah jokes. “He’s been single for years.”
“Asshole,” I grumble good-naturedly.
Noah laughs and takes the racket from me, putting it away in his bag. “Did I lie? I can’t recall when you last seriously dated someone. When we were in college?”
“We hated each other back then and somehow you know about my love life?” I joke.
“You act like we weren’t on the same tennis team and had the same group of friends.” Straightening, he shoulders his bag. “Not to pry, but why haven’t you really dated?”
“I’ve dated,” I say a tad too defensively.
And I have—even if those dates never panned out.
“But nothing serious. I would know.”
I flinch at that, because he’s not wrong but it also implies that I didn’t take Ebba seriously when we were together.
“He’ll meet his match eventually,” Elias says. “I’m starving. What’s the plan for dinner?”
Noah launches into details about the chicken dish he has planned—he enjoys cooking when he has time—and I’m thankful to Elias for the reprieve from questioning.
While they’re discussing dinner, I busy myself with gathering up the balls and leaving the court ready for tomorrow. I’m sure Noah and Elias will want to be up early practicing.
I’m proven right when Noah says, “Stay the night, Fisher. Elias and I will be up early.”
I nearly laugh at how accurate my thoughts were. “Sure. No problem.”
My place isn’t far, but sometimes after a long day I crash here so I have a stash of clothes and other things in a guestroom. As pathetic as it sounds, there are times where I don’t want to go home and be reminded of how alone I am. It allows my mind to easily drift to the what ifs.
What if we never lost the baby?
What if Ebba was still mine?
What if we were a family?
The guys and I head back to the house and none of the girls are to be seen. I’m not sure if I’m thankful or disappointed for that fact.
“I’ll show you where you’re staying,” Noah says to Elias, and they head up the stairs.
I want to shower, but I hang in the kitchen searching Noah’s pantry for a snack. I end up swiping a pack of Cheetos that are probably Maddie’s, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
Slipping out of the pantry, I ease the door shut behind me as quietly as possible.
When I turn around, I’m met with a skeptical looking Whimsy.
“Jesus.” I clutch the bag to my chest.
“No.” She points to herself. “Whimsy.”
“Smart ass,” I grumble affably.
I don’t know the blond too well, but I do know she’s been good for Elias. There’s a mellowness to him now and happiness in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
“Something tells me if you’re sneaking out of the pantry, you’re probably not supposed to have them.”
“I figure they’re Maddie’s.”
“Ah.” She nods. “Makes sense. I would sneak around too. Kids can be terrifying. I was sent to grab this.” She swipes a bottle of wine from the counter. “And glasses?” It comes out as a question.
“Up here. Three?” I ask, opening the cabinet where I know they’re stashed.
“Yep.” I set them on the counter beside me and Whimsy struggles to carry everything. “I can help you carry some things.”
“That would be great. Thanks, Fisher.” She smiles and leaves me with two of the glasses while she handles one and the wine bottle.
My heart races as we get closer to the back porch. It’s downright embarrassing how easily I’m affected by Ebba. You’d think after years of mild exposure to her I would be immune, but I’m just as a susceptible to her as I was the first time I ever saw her.
I should probably still be embarrassed at how easy it is to recall the memory.
It was at the Australian Open in the hotel lobby.
I was waiting for Noah on one of the long couches near the doors.
My whole body sensed her before I saw her, and when I did lay my eyes on her I knew she was the most stunning woman I had ever, or would ever, see.
She headed toward the hotel’s café and I followed her, tossing my own coffee I’d bought only minutes ago all so I could have an excuse to be close to her.
I stepped into line behind her. Her sweet and musky perfume filling the air around her. As soon as she gave her order, I said, “I’ve got it.”
She turned around and gave me a dirty look. “I can pay for my own coffee,” she said in a slightly offended tone.
“I have no doubt,” I replied. “But a woman as pretty as you shouldn’t have to.”
It was absolutely the cheesiest line to ever leave my mouth and she burst out laughing—rightfully so.
But I didn’t care, because even if she was laughing at me, I loved the sound and I was happy that I’d amused her.
I tacked on another coffee for myself and paid, stepping aside to join her with the others waiting.
“I’m Fisher.”
“Ebba.” She smiled up at me. She was on the taller side for a woman, at least five-foot eight or nine.
“Ebba?” I repeated. “That’s a beautiful name.”
“It’s a Swedish name,” she replied.
“So, you’re Swedish?” I asked.
“Half on my mom’s side.”
“That’s cool.”
She laughed softly. “I take it you don’t do this much?”
“Do what?” I asked dumbly.
“Buy girls coffee? Try to flirt with them?”
I blushed. No, I didn’t. I’d been so focused on tennis for so long that women and relationships had been a non-existent thought. “No, I don’t,” I admitted. I didn’t see the point in lying and trying to act like some sort of player.
“Thanks for getting it, but you really didn’t have to.”
“You’re welcome.” I rubbed the back of my head. “Can I give you my number? That way the ball’s in your court? No pressure?”
She smiles and pulls out her phone, passing it to me. “You can add it in.”
I quickly added my contact information and passed her phone back to her.
“Hey, there you are.” I turned at the familiar voice, finding Elias Johnson heading our way. I bristled. He was another American player, but I hadn’t run into him much. I knew enough about him through the rumor mill to know he’s a bit of a womanizer.
“Sorry, I wanted to grab a coffee before we go,” Ebba said to him with a smile.
Confusion floods me and my stomach sinks with a heavy thud. “Are you two…?” I trailed off, swinging my finger between them.
Ebba’s brows furrowed. “Huh? Oh!” Laughter rumbled out of her, and she shook her head. “Elias is my twin brother.”
Realization crashed over me. I’d heard about his twin sister, a dancer in New York City who was recently injured.
Elias smirked my way. “Hey, Fisher.” He extended his hand to shake mine. Hooking his thumb in my direction, he told his sister, “We used to compete against each other. He’s on Noah’s coaching team now.”
“Ah,” she breathed out, sadness filling her brown eyes.
I feel it, the wall growing between us, the one that says we’re on opposite sides we can’t cross.
But I’ve never wanted to demolish a wall more.
Shaking myself free of the memories, I set the glasses down and murmur a quick goodbye to the girls before hurrying away and upstairs to my room.
I no longer think of it as a guestroom but as my own space.
Noah has suggested many times that I just live here during our rare off times instead of keeping a nearby apartment, but it’s still nice to have my own space to retreat to.
Unfortunately for me, Elias is lurking in the hallway.
“Hey,” I say, stopping a few feet from him.
“Do you really think Noah’s going to retire?”
His question catches me off guard. As caught up in my thoughts about Ebba as I am, when I saw him, I thought he was confronting me about her.
“I think so.”
“Huh.” He scratches his jaw. “I know he’s in a different place in life than I am, but I can’t imagine retiring yet.”
I shrug. “After Annie,” I say, referring to Noah’s first wife who passed of cancer, “I think Noah’s learned he prefers to prioritize family.”
“Makes sense,” Elias sighs. “But it’s going to be weird not having him on tour at some point in the near future.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to start looking for a new partner for doubles?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I only do it because it’s fun with Noah. Once he retires, I’ll only do singles.” Clearing his throat, he says, “After we came inside, he mentioned that you’ll be in search of someone else to coach and maybe I would be interested.”
I slide my hands into my pockets and shrug. “I don’t expect you to take me on. I’m sure I’ll find someone.”
I enjoy working with Elias, but that would also put me near Ebba, and I don’t know if I want to subject myself to that kind of torture.
“I like your coaching style. We get along well. I would love to have you on my team when the time comes for Noah to step away.”
“That would be great,” I say with a smile I don’t feel.
He claps me on the shoulder. “We’ll table it for now, but I wanted to say something before you started looking elsewhere.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I’m going to go check on my girl.”
Elias heads down the set of stairs I came up, and I let myself in my room, exhaling a breath as I do. Digging through the dresser I pull out a fresh pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt and head across the hall to the bathroom.
My mind always wanders in the shower, and this time is no different. I can’t help thinking about Ebba. I actively try not to think about her, but ever since the incident in Paris with her now ex, thoughts of her have occupied an embarrassingly large portion of my brain.
We never got true closure to our relationship, but I think even if we had I would’ve still found it impossible to move on.
Frustrated, I get out of the shower and towel off. I yank on my shorts and scoop up my shirt before I open the door and nearly collide with the very woman I can’t stop thinking about.
“Oh.” Her cheeks darken. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in there.” Her eyes drop to my chest and trail lower.
Do not get hard right now just because she’s looking at you. Don’t be any more pathetic than you already are for her.
“I’m done,” I say dumbly. “All yours.” I step around her and we switch spots.
I need to walk away, not stand in the hallway and gawk at her like a prepubescent boy seeing boobs for the first time.
Ebba shakes her head and drops her gaze. Taking a step back, she closes the door and the lock clicks in place, breaking the spell she has me under.
“You’re so fucking pathetic,” I mutter to myself.