Page 66 of Off Court Fix

This one lands her a soft pinch to the side.

“I was a few months ago,” I begin. “Deep in the seas of Midtown Manhattan on a rainy night in February. And I hit it big.”

The chuckle Maxine lets out bounces against me. “Oh yeah? What did you find?”

I press my lips to her cheek. “Buried treasure.”

* * *

The mistake I made was letting Maxine drive the boat, and not because she’s bad or reckless at the helm, but because now, even when the sky darkens, she won’t relinquish much control.

I did manage to get her to take a few breaks so we could eat from the not-so-romantic but delicious picnic I put together from the deli. We picked at olives from plastic containers, ate gourmet crackers, which were overpriced Triscuits in disguise with cheese, and topped it off with the Sour Patch Kids she didn’t eat because she fell asleep during the movie.

Our skin is still salty from the sea well after our swim, and as Maxine takes us back toward the harbor, I remain her very attentive first mate, removing the remnants of the sea from her neck and collarbone with my tongue.

“I’m going to shower, you know.”

I dig my nose into the crook of her neck. “I almost wish you wouldn’t.” I hum happily and headily into her skin. “Or at least without me.”

As our day together winds down, I’m feeling extraordinarily greedy for more when I should feel grateful we had the entire day together outside like any normal couple. But I’m eager to continue that normalcy while veering it back to private—tohome.

“Alright, good, slow down a bit,” I say as the dock comes into view. Clearing my throat, I follow the direction with a casual remark. “You should sleep at my place tonight.”

“Oh, should I?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush.”

“We’ll stop on the way home and get you one.”

She sighs, and I don’t like it. Not one bit. Because that desire for more burns inside my gut, and I know the feeling, how I won’t be able to stop. It’s power on the court. It’s greed with money.

What started as lust with Maxine has morphed intoneed. It’s straight up—there are no rocks to water it down, no twist to cut the burn.

I know she’s exhausted even though she had a snooze in the theater. But I’m struck by this strong need to fall asleep beside Maxine tonight and wake up next to her tomorrow, and I’m not about to take no for an answer when she speaks up.

“I really want to. But I need to go home. I’m on a flight after hitting tomorrow.”

My lips pucker and twist in confusion because Maxine has been nothing but upfront about her schedule, and there’s nothing on my radar about any kind of trip. She must sense my curiosity.

“It’s the reason I had today off, so I could rest up. I’m heading to LA and back in twenty-four hours.”

Now, I’m no longer confused, but I’m a bit angry. Because even though it’s been a day for the books, the exhaustion on Maxine’s face, the dark circles beneath her sleepy eyes, the yawns she tries to hide by turning away from me, it’s all evident.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you wouldn’t have given me this day.”

She’s right, I wouldn’t have. I would’ve sent her home from the club and popped by later in the night.

Maxine’s shoulders droop in front of me. “I wanted this day with you. Just one day to feel normal, you know? I didn’t even realize how much I needed it until now.”

The anger in me simmers and softens. I lay my hands on top of hers gripping the wheel. She needs normal—weneed it. But that normal is waning the closer and closer we get to shore, to stepping off the boat with bare feet and into shoes on the dock where reality awaits.

“I’m sorry.”

Maxine’s apology is unnecessary and unwanted because she shouldn’t have to apologize at all. If anything, it should be me who tells her that. Because it all goes back to the day in the desert stadium when I had a moment to do the right thing and excuse myself from her match.

---