AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We don’t get off to a great start, though. We lose the toss, and Rawiri opts to serve first, so I choose to receive. He’s not a particularly big guy, but I’ve played against him a couple of times, and he’s great at the net, so I know it’s going to be a challenge. Sure enough, his first serve is hard and fast, and I just manage to return it, but it clips the net and bounces over the line. He then serves to Sidnie’s backhand, and she just manages to hit it, but it rattles the net. I return his next serve, but it’s not low enough; Ngaire volleys with a backhand, Sidnie returns it, and Rawiri slams it down between us. He finishes with an ace, and now we’re one game down.
I half-expect Sidnie to look downcast, but as we change ends, she moves close to me and murmurs, “She’s got a weak backhand. Concentrate on that.”
I nod. “Okay.”
We split and go to our starting positions, and it’s my turn to serve.
Rawiri has obviously forgotten I’m a lefty, and completely misses my hooking serve. So I start with an ace, and that’s enough to perk Sidnie and me up. Ngaire returns my serve, but my heavy topspin forehand goes across court to her backhand, and Sidnie was right—she gets her racket to it, but the return is weak enough to allow me to reach the net and slam it down the middle between them. Rawiri manages to return my next serve, but Sidnie’s fast and volleys it back, Ngaire only just gets it back over the net, and I spin it enough to fool Rawiri and he hits it out of court. My last serve is a good one, and Ngaire only just gets it back; Sidnie then volleys straight at her, and Ngaire squeals and misses it completely.
Now we’re starting to find our feet, and I can see Sidnie’s confidence growing. We win the next game easily, and then it’s her turn to serve. She aces against Ngaire on the first shot and gives me the most beautiful smile as she walks to the other side. We’re 40-15 up when the umpire calls time, which means the match is ours.
“Congratulations,” Rawiri says, shaking hands as the crowd cheers. “Good game.”
“Excellent serving,” Ngaire tells her.
“You’re so great at the net,” Sidnie replies, “I nearly didn’t return some of those volleys.”
Smiling, I sling my arm around her, and we pick up our bags and start walking to the next court.
“Have I told you how hot you look in that dress?” I murmur, nuzzling her ear as we walk.
“Hot being the operative word,” she says, wiping her brow with the sweat band she wears on her wrist. “I’m melting.”
“Did you put lotion on? I’m happy to rub some in for you.”
“My breasts are covered, in case you haven’t noticed.”
I laugh and kiss her temple. “I don’t know why you were worried. You’re a talented player.”
“I’m lucky to have Usain Bolt as a partner. You’re so fast, Mack. I don’t know how you covered the ground on that last shot.”
Talking about the game, we get to the court, have a few swallows of one of the energy drinks offered by the club, and then it’s time for match two.
Starting to find our stride, we win the match easily, barely dropping a point.
After that, it’s off to play Titus and Chrissie.
This match is much more difficult. Titus is even taller than me, built like a brick shithouse, and with the muscles of a Viking. Chrissie is smaller than Sidnie, but she’s fast and great at the net, and the four of us are a good match. Every point goes to fifteen-all, thirty-all, and deuce, and if it wasn’t for the no-ads rule, I’m sure every game would have taken us forever to complete.
When the umpire blows the whistle, it’s one game all and thirty-all on the third, so we get to finish the tiebreaker. Luckily, I’m serving, as Sidnie opted to open the match by serving after we won the toss. Remembering Huxley’s rules on etiquette, I’ve tailored my serves to the women players on the court, and I don’t want to change that now. Instead of using force, I aim for clever placement, made easier by being a leftie. I serve down the middle to Chrissie’s backhand, and she hits it into the net to make it forty-thirty. The last serve to Titus is more difficult. I serve the first at light speed, but it bounces a fraction over the tramline.
“Out,” the umpire calls.
“Lucky bastard,” I call to Titus, who grins, and the crowd chuckles, easing the tension a little.
Sidnie blows me a kiss. Lips curving up, I serve, Titus returns as I run into the net, I volley over, Chrissie volleys neatly back, and it’s a low, sneaky ball. But Sidnie somehow manages to scoop it up for a wonderful high lob over their heads. Titus runs back, manages to get to it, smacks it hard—and it sails just over the outside tramlines.
“Match to Dr. Hart and Ms. Beaver,” the umpire declares.
Sidnie and I high five, then laugh and hug before circling the net to shake hands with Titus and Chrissie.
“So close,” I say, clapping Titus on the arm.
“We were outplayed,” he admits. “You two make a good team.”
“Yeah.” I put my arm around Sidnie. “We do.”
She grins and lifts her face to receive my kiss as we walk off the court.
