Page 126 of Double Fault

“That.” I point to the door Ebba stepped through a moment ago.

“Nothing. We were just talking.”

I squint at my so-called best friend. “There were weird vibes.”

He scoffs, arms crossed. “There were no vibes. You’re insane.”

“I might be insane, but I’m not stupid.” It’s not my most clever comeback, but it does make Fisher deflate a little.

“We had a thing… a long time ago, okay?”

I puff out a breath like I’ve been punched in the gut. “And you never told me?”

He presses his lips together. “We figured it was better to keep it to ourselves, since you and Elias are rivals. It’s a good thing we did, too, since it didn’t go anywhere.”

“I can’t believe this.” Head lowered, I tug at my hair.

Fisher groans. “See why I didn’t tell you now? You’re so dramatic.”

“Me?” I bring a hand to my chest, brows raised. “Dramatic? How dare you?”

He guffaws. “God, you’re fucking annoying. Anyway,” he says, dragging the word out. “Now you know, and please, I’m begging you, don’t bring it up again.”

Fighting a grin, I mime zipping my lips. I don’t, however, make any kind of promise that I won’t bring it up again.

“Go shower.” Fisher shoves me, then wanders away. “You stink.”

The Wimbledon grand slam final is days away. From now until then, I have nothing to do but rest and train. Though my body needs it, the time off allows for my mental state to deteriorate.

I did, however, give in and let my team set up an appointment with a therapist. As I log on for my first session, I’m still not convinced it’ll help in the slightest. But if I bail, my team will know and give me shit.

Rather than the old dude in a sweater I expect to appear on the screen, when the meeting begins, I come face to face with a middle-aged woman with vibrant red hair and large purple glasses.

“Hello,” she says in a polite but neutral tone. “I’m Dr. Booth. Please, call me Iris.”

Iris. The name suits the woman who, from what I can tell by her top and the wall behind her, has eclectic taste.

“I’m Noah.” The words come out ragged, so I clear my throat and try again. “My… uh… my team set this up, so I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”

Her responding smile is patient and kind. Fuck, I hate to admit it, but her serene demeanor already makes me feel at ease.

“No problem, Noah. For now, we won’t dive into anything in detail. This first appointment is more of a get-to-know you session. I’ll ask questions that will help me decide where to go from here, and you’re welcome to ask me questions too.”

“Okay.” I rub my hands together beneath the desk in my hotel room. Sabrina took Maddie out for the day, and I can allbut guarantee they’ll come back with another half dozen stuffed animals.

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” She picks up a brightly colored mug and brings it to her mouth.

“Well, I’m a tennis player.”

Her lips curve in an amused smile. “Tell me something I can’t find myself with a quick Google search.”

Hands suddenly damp, I straighten and rub them down my thighs. “Uh… I… I don’t know.”

It feels like the most important details of my life can be found on the internet, and how strange is that? To have all the important parts of one’s existence so easily searchable by anyone with a computer?

“There must be something.” She hums, giving me a moment to respond. When I don’t, she says, “I’ll go first instead. When I was sixteen, I broke up with my first ever boyfriend. He didn’t like that, so he ran me off the road, which caused me to hit a tree. Got this scar from it.” She tugs the collar of her shirt down an inch or two, showing off the white scar streaking over her neck and disappearing beneath the fabric.

“That’s… wow. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

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