Page 129 of Double Fault

With a sigh, she splays a hand on my abs and pushes. I remain where I am. If she’s trying to push me away, she’ll have to try harder than that.

“Fair warning: I may not be athletic, but I’m insanely competitive.” She does a dramatic hair flip and tosses me a wink over her shoulder, then saunters to the opposite side of the court with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

Fuck. I can’t take my eyes off her.

Fisher steps up beside me and slaps my arm. “You’re so fucked.”

I sigh. “I know.”

Sabrina’s seen me play dozens of times already, so I resist the urge to show off, and rather than go over the rules, I focus on having fun. I toss the ball up and hit it over the net so it bounces in front of her.

It isn’t until it bounces a second time—an out if this were a real game—that her racket makes contact. When the ball hits the net, she groans.

Fisher makes a similar noise. “Please, never let me see you hold a racket like that again,” he says as he strides over to her. “You’re asking for a broken finger.”

“What?” she asks, holding the racket out and inspecting her grip.

“You’re hitting with your finger on the handle like this.” He takes it from her and demonstrates, stretching his index finger along the grip where it meets the shaft. “Fist it?—”

Sabrina interrupts him by breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Jesus.” He pinches his brow. “I see why the two of you like each other. You’re perfect for Noah. You both have the sense of humor of a seventh-grade boy.”

Sabrina holds one arm out and pinches the hem of her skirt in a mock bow. “Thank you.”

“Just hold it like this. Please. I beg of you.” With a shake of the racket, he hands it back to her.

“You’re funny when you’re all flustered,” she calls after him.

He lifts a hand and bats at the air like he’s batting off a mosquito.

“Ready?” I ask her, bouncing the ball in front of me.

“Hit me.”

This time, I hit the ball with a little more force than I intended, and it sails right past her. With a scream, she dives out of the way, but not before it catches the side of her calf.

“Noah!” she yells, bouncing on one foot and holding her leg with her free hand.

I cringe. Shit. She’s going to have a nasty bruise.

“I didn’t mean for you toliterallyhit me.”

Heart in my throat, I toss my racket to the ground and dart around the net. “It was an accident.”

At her side, I ease her to the ground and crouch low so I can inspect her leg. With a gentle touch, I brush my fingers over the spot.

Rather than recoil or cry out, she shivers.

I arch a brow, lips curving into a smile. “Cold?”

“Yes.” She sniffs, the lie rolling off her tongue easily.

“Hm.” Releasing her, I stand and hold out a hand to help her up. “It’ll bruise, but you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.”

When she makes it to her feet, she stumbles, but I catch her easily. I lean in to kiss her, but by some miracle, I come to my senses and catch myself before I can make contact. Yes, Maddie has been clear that she wants me to date Sabrina, but she’s eight. She can’t really know what’s best for her. There’s a chance that if this all becomes real in her mind, she’ll be upset. It’s in my best interest and hers not to go all in right in front of her just yet. Iwant to be sure this thing between us is serious before we tell her.

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