Page 107 of Off Court Fix

I press my lips together and nod. “I’ll stay with you tonight and go with you tomorrow.”

“You don’t—”

I shush him with a kiss. “I know I don’t. You know I don’t.” I press my lips to his one more time. “We both know I will.”

Crosby nods, touching his forehead to mine again “Thank you. Because I need you there,” he whispers with his face down, as if the words bring shame.

But what I want Crosby to know is there’s no shame in needing help, in asking someone to stand by your side, in talking about what hurts, what’s scary.

And soon, we’ll be able to do that however we want, wherever we want. We’ll have the beautiful nights and sad moments, life lived together, not separate journeys with shared stops along the way.

I squeeze his hand. “You have me,” I promise. “Here. And after the US Open, you’ll have me here, there, and everywhere.”

Crosby drops his forehead back to my shoulder, nuzzling back and forth, and I can feel the intensity of his breathing—he’s savoring me to get through the rest of the night apart. “We should get back, especially you.” He drops a kiss and takes a deep breath of my skin. “Go around to the side entrance. There’s a bathroom there you can fix yourself up in.”

Nodding, I turn and reach for a pack of tissues to hand to him. “My lipstick...” A mauvy pink is smudged on Crosby’s lips, around his mouth. “I’ll find you right after my speech. I promise.”

With a squeeze of his hand, I slide off his lap and reach for the backdoor of Crosby’s car. I lower myself from the SUV, minding my weak foot. But I furrow my brow when I’m unable to close the door behind me. Looking up from the ground, I’m about to turn my head when I see Hunter Wembly staring, a cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Maxine.” Crosby pushes the door open he had stopped from fully closing and shuffles out of the car, stepping in front of me.

Hunter takes a drag of the cigarette while smiling. “I’ll be damned.”

My heart begins to race, its dooming rhythm pounding in my ears as Hunter’s gaze narrows in on me over Crosby’s shoulder.

“Maxine, go back inside,” Crosby says, his voice low, even, serious.

I want to move and take Crosby with me, but I’m somehow having an issue communicating with my legs.

Crosby reaches back, squeezing my hand. “Go,” he orders this time. “I’ll meet you in there.”

“They’re looking for you,” Hunter chimes in, tapping his ash to the grass. “You missed the whole silent auction. I know that lesson with you went for a pretty penny.”

I swallow heavily.

“I know becauseIpaid a pretty penny for it.”

At this point, Crosby doesn’t squeeze my hand again. He begins walking and takes me with him.

“I’d be careful with that hand holding, Cros,” Hunter chuckles before his face grows serious, and he focuses on me. “People might get the wrong idea about you two.”

“Let’s go.”

Crosby drops his hand but wraps an arm around me, tucking me against him. I should lean into him, keep my eyes focused ahead on each step we take in sync as we make our way up to the main parking lot. I’ll never know why I decide to look back over my shoulder where Hunter still stands, stubbing out his cigarette before his eyes meet mine again.

There’s more than just abustedmessage he’s sending me. Hunter looks at me like I’m fair game.

* * *

I’m relieved no one has come into the bathroom because if they did, they’d see me shaking so much I’m afraid to reapply my lipstick for fear of just getting it all over my face.

“Breathe,” I tell myself over and over. “Breathe. Nothing is happening right now.”

I lean forward against the sink, trying to gain my composure and will my heart to stop trying to beat its way out of my chest.

“Everything is fine.”

Except, Hunter knows. Hunter Wembly, who Crosby clearly is worried about for probably a multitude of reasons. What did he say about him? He’s hotheaded, quick to fly off the handle, something like that. I’m trying to rack my brain, desperate to remember, but then I shake off the thought because maybe if I remember Crosby’s exact words, I’ll only feel worse.

---