Page 164 of Double Fault

“Now, do you want to watch that movie?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

I shake her shoulder and plaster on a smile. “Come on, where’s the enthusiasm? Don’t tell me you’re already tired of hanging out with your dad.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there: a small upward twitch of her lips. “No.”

We put a movie on and settle on the couch, and though it’s got to be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I’ve ever had the displeasure of sitting on, Maddie falls asleep within minutes.

“Gonna play better today or let me whoop your ass again?”

I give Fisher the finger, then check the strings on my racket. Once I’ve looked it over thoroughly, I sit on the ground and stretch.

“Feeling stiff?” he asks.

“Nah, feeling old.”

He chuckles. “We’re not that old.”

“Tell that to my body.”

I’m years from retirement, but there’s no denying the toll professional sports take on the body.

Fisher lifts his chin suddenly, intent on something behind me. I twist at the waist, my heart stupidly skipping a beat in the delusional hope that my eyes are going to land on Sabrina.

Instead, Elias hobbles over, aided by a pair of crutches.

“Look at you,” Fisher cheers

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Elias mutters. “I’m a sight for sore eyes. I know.”

“You’re just in time to help me get this mopey asshole ready to play.” Fisher tosses his thumb in my direction.

“Mopey, huh?” My rival turned friend chuckles. “Heard you sent your girl packing.”

Packing?My stomach twists painfully at the notion. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Really? ’Cause it seems to me”—he makes a show of looking around—“she isn’t here.”

I stretch out my other leg, making sure my muscles are loose.

“A teaching position came up. It’s what she’s always wanted to do. I don’t want to hold her back.”

“Aw, how pathetically sweet of you.” He takes a seat on the bench, turning so he can stretch out his bandaged leg.

I hop to my feet and scoop up three balls. With two stuffed in my pockets, I bounce the third, then hit it lightly over the net.

“Why are you even here?” I ask Elias as I fall into my regular warm-up routine. “Shouldn’t you be checked into some fancy recovery center doing physical therapy and leaving me alone?”

He breaks into a wide grin. “I’m honored you’re so worried about my well-being.”

Fucker. The guy might be my biggest rival on the court, but I’m growing annoyingly fond of him.

“I might not be able to play, but that doesn’t mean I want to pass up on the Olympics. I can at least sit on the sidelines and cheer for your pathetic ass.”

Snorting, I hit a ball to Fisher and notice my right shoulder is feeling a little tight. Hopefully the warm-up will get it loosened up and it’s not something serious.

“You’re not the cheerleader I’d choose if it were up to me.” I catch the ball when it comes back my way and stuff it in my pocket.

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