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Lukas scoffs, tossing his racquet and catching the handle again. ‘My warm-down is his training, that’s how far apart in skill we are.’
Gabriel rolls his eyes and taps his racquet on Lukas’s arse. ‘Get on the court.’
Lukas swallows a mouthful of water from his water bottle and follows Gabriel onto the court. While Gabriel isn’t training half-naked, it’s still mesmerising to watch them play so close. The power behind the ball isn’t something easily captured on the television, but in person, I can see Gabriel’s arm ripple as he returns Lukas’s serve.
Around half an hour later, a young woman enters the court from the side gate. She’s wearing a yellow sundress and her long, straight blonde hair cascades around her shoulders. She sees me sitting on the sidelines and comes over, taking the seat beside me.
‘I can’t believe they’re still at it,’ she says. ‘These two will kill each other one day.’
‘They seem to have a pretty intense rivalry. I’m Noah, by the way. Gabriel’s friend.’
Her bright blue eyes look me up and down; I can’t tell if she likes what she sees. ‘Freyja. I’m Lukas’s sister.’
‘Oh, cool. You played today, didn’t you?’ I’d promised Gabriel I wouldn’t google him, but I certainly hadn’t promised I wouldn’t google other people.
‘And lost.’ She sighs, looking across the court at her brother. I wonder if there’s a streak of jealousy between her and her sibling. It must be hard to be so similar, and yet, Lukas has enjoyed a markedly more successful career than Freyja. Not because she’s a bad player, but because the women’s draw has been dominated by strong players for so long and—
Damn. Do I know tennis now?
Freyja looks up into the night sky. ‘I played like shit.’
Before I can respond, I notice Lukas tapping the rest of his balls over the net. Gabriel catches them easily and they make their way back to us.
‘See you in the finals, Madani,’ he says as he hauls his bag over his shoulder. Then, his unsettlingly blue eyes turn to me. ‘Nice to meet you, Noah.’ Lukas reaches forward to grab my forearm and pulls me towards him in a kind of awkward bro handshake. ‘You’ll have to show me the vintage shops around here. Gabriel will hook us up.’
‘I willnot,’ I hear Gabriel say behind me, his tone slightly scandalised.
As Lukas and Freyja leave the court, Gabriel pulls off his sweat-soaked shirt and tosses it my way. I laugh as I duck out of the way, the wet fabric slapping audibly against the plastic seat.
‘You’re a gross man and I hate you,’ I mutter as I pick the shirt up and fling it back to him.
He gathers his shirt and shoves it into the front pocket of his gym bag, then sheathes his tennis racquet like a sword. ‘Come. Join me in the shower.’
My face goes hot at his words. ‘For real?’ I hiss.‘Here?’
Gabriel throws his gym bag over his shoulder. ‘I still have it booked for another hour, and no one knows we’re here. Ironically, it’s as private as it can get.’
The thrill of a scandal pulses through me as I follow Gabriel into the locker rooms. I really shouldn’t; there have been so many close calls in the last few days, and there’s so much on the line if we get caught. But every time I think about Gabriel naked, the feel of his skin against mine, all logical, sensible thoughts disappear. Gabriel’s swaying arse is like a siren’s call luring me to the deep, and goddamn do I want to dive in.
The changing rooms are basic—large, tiled showers, and a row of lockers on the far wall with a wooden bench in between. Gabriel dumps his bag by the doorway, presses me against the nearest wall, and kisses me.
I wind my arms around his neck, desperate to feel his body against mine. The first touch of his tongue has me whimpering into his mouth, and fuck, no one’s ever made me whimper, so full am I of want and love andeverything. Maybe it’s just my dick talking, but whatever this is between us, it feels real.
A moment later, we’re in the shower and everything’s hot and naked and slippery—
‘I one hundred per cent do not have a condom,’ I groan as he presses me against the cold tile of the shower cubicle. ‘It didn’t even occur to me to bring one, though I bought, like, a whole packet.’
‘A whole packet? That is bold of you,’ Gabriel murmurs against my throat as he hitches my thigh to his hip. Between his body, the steam, and the washing-machine-on-spin-cycle that is my brain, I feel like I’m going to pass out.
I think Iampassing out, because suddenly Gabriel’s moving away from me, sinking to the floor. But then his mouth finds the hinge of my hip and thigh, and he kisses the little wrinkle in the junction, and I realise he’s on his knees.
I’m embarrassingly hard when Gabriel takes my cock, and as his hand pumps me, I scramble to find the ledge of the half-wall behind me for support. ‘Fucking hell, Gabi, I—’
‘You’ll have to tell me if I am not good,’ Gabriel says, but I know I’ll do absolutely no such thing. ‘I’ve never done this.’
I don’t have time to unpack any of that before Gabriel’s mouth is on me. Tipping my head back, I breathe out and try to find some semblance of control to prevent me from coming too soon but then suddenly the heat of Gabriel’s mouth is gone.
Gabriel reaches up from the floor to wrench the water off. I glance down; his curls are soaked, plastered to his face, and he’s panting hard, face flushed, but he’s grinning. ‘Water,off,’ he grunts then I laugh, and suddenly we’re both laughing at the awkwardness of this situation.
