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She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”
“Come on. Let’s have a drink and get ready for the last match.”
I can’t lie and say I don’t want to win. I don’t really care about the tournament—I am competitive, but it’s a charity match, and as long as everyone has fun, I’m happy to have played well and won a few games.
I do want to beat Clarke. I’ve never forgiven him for being rude to Nadine, and I know he won’t have forgiven me for not giving him a job. I don’t think the fact that he’s dating Felicity is a coincidence. She’s rich and stunning, and I bet he thought I’d be jealous when I found out they were dating.
Spoiler: I’m not.
Somehow I can’t imagine Sidnie throwing my coffee machine through a window, even if we broke up.
The thought keeps a smile on my face all the way to the next court.
*
Sidnie
Fuck, I’m nervous. Why does the whole tournament have to depend on the last match?
I honestly didn’t think we’d do as well as we have. It’s obvious to me that I’m the weak link in our team, but I imagine that’s normal in mixed doubles. Mack’s serves are fast as bullets, and he’s like lightning on the court, covering space in half the time it takes me to run around. No doubt he could improve his technique if he played a lot more, but for a nerd who spends most of his days with his head stuck in computers, he’s pretty damn good.
I’m doing okay, but I’m hot and getting tired. I used to go to the gym regularly, but I haven’t been for a few months. I do run most mornings, but I can tell I haven’t been doing weights, and my arms and shoulders are aching.
Still, I’ve made it this far, and Mack’s compliments were nice enough to keep my chin up and give me hope that I can at least hold my own.
There are four matches taking place, but everyone knows this is going to decide the winner, and the majority of spectators have gravitated over here, and are taking their places in the stands under the shade. Mack grabs a couple of energy drinks from the cooler and brings one over to me, and I drink half of it, hoping it’ll perk me up.
“Have you played them before?” I ask, watching David and Felicity removing the covers from their rackets and walking over to the umpire.
“No.” Mack finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin. “We’ll have to make it up as we go along.” He grins then—he’s enjoying it. “Come on, sexy. Let’s do this.”
We join them by the umpire, who tosses a coin. David calls heads—and it’s tails. We choose to serve.
“May the best couple win,” Felicity says.
“At least the game’s a bit more even now you’ve partnered with a real woman.” David glances toward the stand and laughs before he walks away. Felicity stares at Mack, then drops her gaze and follows him.
I frown. Was David talking about her? That doesn’t make sense.
Then I follow his gaze to the stand and realize what he meant. He was referring to Mack’s previous tennis partner, who’s sitting there with her sprained wrist. It was a disparaging remark about her being trans.
My jaw drops. “He was talking about Victoria?”
Mack has stiffened, and he doesn’t say anything as we walk across the court.
“You okay?” I ask cautiously.
He looks at me then, and his eyes are filled with fury. “I’m going to crush that motherfucker,” he snaps. He points his racket at me. “And you’re going to help me.”
Delight fills me. “Absolutely. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
His lips curve up, and he slides a hand to the nape of my neck and kisses me then, hard, ignoring the crowd, who immediately give a huge cheer. When we break apart, his expression is filled with determination. “You serve,” he says. “Show the fucker that women can play as well as men.”
I nod, because it’ll also mean he gets to serve in the important third game. “Let’s do it.”
We take our places, and the game begins.
Immediately, I know it’s going to be tough. David’s not quite as tall as Mack, but he’s muscular, and he’s obviously played before. He returns my serve easily, and he’s into the net immediately, providing a wall through which it’s difficult to direct the ball.
