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“What?” Lucy yells, her voice echoing around the court. “That’s totally unfair. You’re biased!”
“No, I’m not,” Morgan says, crinkling her brow. “Graham was most improved today.”
Most improved? Why does that make me feel a little like a loser? I used to be a decent athlete. Have I become a doughboy? I look down at my stomach.
“You’re just letting him win because he’s pretty,” Lucy says, and my head swings to her.
“I am not,” Morgan says, putting emphasis on each word.
“Look at the guy,” Lucy says, gesturing toward me with an open palm. “His gorgeous looks are swaying your vote.”
“They are not!”
“I’m ... standing right here,” I say, feeling sort of awkward, even though this is quite the boost to my ego, which took a hit just seconds ago.
I know I’m not unattractive, but hearing Lucy say it does something to me. Maybe it’s because I appreciate the opinion of my friend.
“I’m actually standing here, too,” Ryan says, looking at his fiancée.
“Tell them I’m not being biased,” Morgan pleads with Ryan.
“I mean, he is an attractive man,” Ryan says, lifting a shoulder briefly.
“Thank you,” says Lucy, her tone appreciative.
“Should I even be here right now?” I ask, looking at the three of them.
“Of course,” Morgan says. “You’re the winner. You won fair and square.” She’s looking at Lucy while she says this.
Lucy makes a sort of growling noise.
“Come on, Price,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her off the court.
We grab our stuff and return the paddles, since Lucy and I had to rent some from the rec center. Morgan and Ryan, of course, have their own.
“That was fun,” Morgan says as we walk toward the door, coats on. “We should do it again.”
“Definitely,” I say, and I mean it. Even with the competitive Price siblings, I had a great time tonight.
“Can I have a minute, Doc?” Ryan asks me just before we walk out into the cold winter air.
I look to Lucy, who is shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She grabs me by the arm, pulling me toward her. “We’re just friends, Ryan. You don’t need to have any discussions with him.”
“I just want to make sure,” he says.
“Ryan,” both she and Morgan say at the same time.
Ryan looks to Lucy and then to me and then back to Lucy.
“Don’t play with my sister,” he says to me, before he and Morgan walk out the door.
“Sorry about that,” Lucy says, placing a pink knitted hat with a pom-pom on her head.
“He’s protective of you,” I say. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“You’d think I was eighteen and not twenty-nine. I swear my brothers think I’m incapable of taking care of myself.”
“Your brothers?” I ask, feeling a drop in my stomach. They were talking about me?
