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“I mean, you have to prepare for your season coming up, so I doubt if I came into your training and tried out some of your drills, you’d tell me no.” My nose scrunches up as the sun hits my face from a different angle.
Thank God I am slathered in SPF 100, or I would be burned to the crisp.
“How do you know I wouldn’t kick you out? I have an increasingly important schedule that I must always adhere to.” His finger goes up sternly, but the words that come from his mouth are joking.
I chuckle. “You’re right. I don’t know, but helping you could improve the basics instilled in my mind so it could help my swing.”
“Give it your best shot. My mom once tried to teach me on a public court in Sao Paulo and I ended up hitting myself in the face with my own racket. I was twenty-five at the time.”
“We’ll see just how bad you are with a professional beside you, Mr. Valente,” I snort out. “If you learn how to hit, maybe you could become my replacement hitting partner since Sofia likes to abandon me for the beach.”
“I don’t think Sofia is abandoning you for the beach,” Xavier says, his smile now turned into a smirk. He looks at me as if I know what he’s alluding to.
“What?” I question.
“Come on, it’s so obvious,” he says.
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He just laughs at my innocence.
“You know my trainer from Monaco that I told you was staying here,” he tells me.
“Yes.” I don’t know exactly what he’s trying to say, but I’ll go along with it.
“Well, we pretty much train the same hours in the morning and let’s just say he abandons me for the beach while I do my treadmill G-force training.” He tries to send me a signal I’m not receiving.
“So?”
“Blondie, I would have never taken you for the innocent type.”
“I’m still not understanding what you’re trying to say.” I grab the second practice racket on the bench, listening to him carefully.
“As a love whisperer, I know things just by a single feeling.” He pauses. “I wouldn’t say these words in front of an innocent damsel such as yourself.” He pauses again.
“Just get to the point, sunshine.” He’s taking too long for my patience.
“They’re having sex, Blondie.”
“Oh.” The realization runs through my head. “OH!” My face is tilted in wonder and a little confusion.
Sofia is one of the most uptight people I’ve ever met. Not in a bad way, just in a stern way. The thought of her skipping out on the last hour of practice to go have a little fun surprises me. But I’m happy for her.
“Is it just me, or is that weird?”
“I don’t think so. I saw the way they looked at each other when I introduced them. The sexual energy was already there and as someone who predicted the two lovers that will be the future Donatellos, I know what I’m talking about.” He grabs the racket out of my hands, feeling it in his grip.
Changing the subject, I opt for the tennis route, fully avoiding any talk about intercourse when around him.
“First, let’s start off with a beginner’s grip. Hold the racket the same way you were before you hit yourself in the face,” I instruct him.
He laughs before adjusting his hands.
I fully understand why he almost gave himself a black eye. The grip is all wrong.
“Hmm.” Trying to think of a way to explain to him what to do. I end up opting for the full explanation. “I want you to set the racket on the ground.”
He places it on the hard green court, waiting for instruction.
