Page 22 of Drop Shot
“I’m sure Whimsy would love to have you there,” Elias says, wiping his fingers on a paper napkin. “Regardless, I hope we can get together again before we leave. Maybe do lunch again or something?”
She smiles at the reprieve. “That would be lovely, wouldn’t it, John?”
My dad’s eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh … yeah, of course. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Elias catches my gaze and winks. He’s not at all bothered by my father’s attempt at a cold reception.
When we’ve finished lunch and helped clean up, we say our goodbyes and head out to leave.
“I love them,” Elias declares when we’re safely ensconced inside my car and he’s sliding the seatbelt across his body. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding them from me all this time.”
I laugh, backing out of the driveway. “I haven’t been hiding them. There’s just been no reason for you to meet my parents until now.”
“I still say you’ve been hiding them.”
It’s silent between us for about five minutes before Elias says, in a quiet, reverent voice, “I hope they never find out it’s fake or they’re going to hate me.”
“They won’t,” I promise.
But I realize as I head toward the heart of Miami it might be a promise I can’t keep.
CHAPTER 6
ELIAS
I might’ve hadto meet Whimsy’s family for the first time, but she’s already met mine numerous times. This is different, though. She’s never met them as my girlfriend.
I didn’t expect to feel so sick over lying to her family and mine—it’s not like it’s a big lie, anyway. It doesn’t hurt anyone. But man does it feel wrong.
My body aches from a brutal training session. After a rough start to the ATP Tour year, I’m desperate to come out on top. Especially on my home turf. Losing in Miami would be a heartbreak I don’t want to deal with.
I unlock my car and hop in. I need to pick up Whimsy before we meet my parents and sister for an early dinner, but I also need coffee if I’m going to be able to make it through the rest of the day. Putting in a mobile order for my favorite place, I get a coffee for Whimsy too. Knowing her, she’s needing it just as bad as I am.
Once I have the coffees in hand, I text Whimsy that I’ll be getting her in a few minutes.
Nerves ratchet up my spine. I’veneverintroduced my parents to a girlfriend before. I’ve never dated anyone seriously before, and I can’t help but feel like the worst son ever that the first time I’m doing it, it’s not even real.
Groaning, I rub a hand over my jaw.
I can’t dwell on this.
I signed the contract.
Whimsy signed the contract.
We’re locked in.
When I pull up outside Whimsy’s building she’s already waiting on the curb andfuckshe looks cute. Blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail secured with a white ribbon and wearing some sort of short flowy tutu-looking skirt in yellow with a matching-colored top.
I slow to a stop and get out to help her in. I’m going to have to get running boards if I’m going to be picking her up more.
“You don’t actually have to help me. I’ll be fine,” she says, adjusting her handbag on her shoulder.
“I’m trying to be your prince charming,” I quip, offering her my hand for balance.
When she wobbles, my other hand immediately goes to her waist to steady her.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks flash pink when she glances back at me.
