Page 108 of Drop Shot
“Sure you will,” he says in that deep, silky voice. “Night, Whim.”
“Night, Elias.”
CHAPTER 37
WHIMSY
I popa grape into my mouth, sitting on the small balcony outside the hotel room when Elias bursts through the door. He looks around for me and spots me outside, quickly heading my way with a determined stride.
It’s the interim between the HSBC championship ending and Wimbledon beginning, which for Elias means life as usual—practice, stretching, working out. For me, it’s meant continuing to work on my sketches and spending time with Ebba, Sabrina, and Noah’s little girl Maddie.
Elias won the championship, but if anything, he’s seemed more nervous than ever as we head into Wimbledon. The past two wins haven’t provided him relief. Only more anxiety.
“Hey,” he says as he slides the door open and joins me on the balcony. “Are you busy?”
I close my laptop. “Not really.” I reach for another grape. “Why?”
“I was thinking,” he starts slowly. “That you might want to come play tennis with me.”
I snort. “I don’t play tennis.”
Not that I’ve ever tried, but I can imagine it being a bad idea.
“So?” he prompts, crossing his leg. “I’ll teach you. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
A look of incredulousness settles on my face. “Don’t you want a break?”
He shrugs, leaning back in the chair. He’s so at ease in his body and I’m envious of that. He always moves with such liquid grace. There’s nothing clunky or awkward about him. Just pure confidence.
“I’d rather hang out with you.”
My heart warms at those words. It’s unfair to my already complicated feelings, that’s beneath all his cocky bravado he’s actually squishily adorable.
And yes, I’m fairly certain he would never let me live it down if he knew I called him squishy.
“And you want to teach me tennis?”
“Yeah.” It’s so hard not to smile when he looks at me with such a happy, carefree expression. “I do.”
With a sigh, I hold up a finger, “I’m saying yes but only because I have a cute tennis outfit I’ve been dying to wear.”
He claps his hands together. “Whatever it takes.”
An hour later, we step onto a court at a nearby park. There’s no one else around, which I’m grateful for. I don’t need anyone seeing me make a fool of myself.
It’s hot, so I already know I’ll be a sweaty mess by the time we leave here, but the fact that Elias hasn’t been able to rid himself of his goofy grin since I agreed, makes it all worth it.
I bend down to adjust the laces on my tennis shoes. I always have the tendency to tie them too tight on the first go around.
Beside me, Elias pulls two rackets from his Wilson bag. “My rackets might be a little heavy, but I have faith in you.”
“Thanks,” I drawl sarcastically, taking one from him when I stand.
“I’m forceful with my hits, so I prefer a heavier racket,” he goes on to explain. He pulls a few balls from his bag and sticks them in his pocket. “Take these.” He hands me a few.
I give him a deadpan stare. “Where am I supposed to put these.”
He chuckles good naturedly. “That’s an athletic skirt, right? With shorts under it?”
