Page 28 of Drop Shot
“We need to talk strategy,” he prattles, smacking his hands together, one on top of the other. “I think perhaps we need a shakeup in your coaching staff?—”
I hold up a hand cutting him off right there. “No. You are my manager. You’ve never played tennis a day in your life. There’s nothing wrong with my team. It’s just me.” The last part comes out practically a whisper.
I’m unable to describe how in my head I am about my game these days without people thinking I’m crazy.
“I’m just saying, you haven’t been on like you usually are. Between your game being off and the meltdowns”—he whispers the word like it’s shameful— “I think you should consider restructuring things.”
“I’ll think about it,” I lie, clapping him on the shoulder. “I need to go find my family and mygirlfriend,” I drawl the word, trying to remind him that I’m already doing a hell of a lot that he’s asked of me.
I leave Jackson behind. I have no doubt he’ll hunt me down again soon, but I’ll take any reprieve I can get. I’m tired and frustrated since the win didn’t come easily and I want to check with Whim and make sure she’s okay after the kiss. Jackson got to me before he did her about it, so I didn’t have a chance to ask her before my match if she was okay with it. I tried to communicate silently with her beforehand, to make sure she was on the same page. The last thing I wanted to do was kiss her and it not be something she was okay with. I’ll feel better once I can chat with her.
I find my family and Whimsy in one of the community areas, sitting at a table chatting.
“Hey,” I say as I approach, setting my bag down as I pull out a chair next to Whimsy. She looks startled by my appearance. I widen my eyes, reminding her to play along. “Hi, baby.” I lean over and kiss her cheek.
“Congrats on your win,” she says, her body stiff at my side. I don’t miss the narrowing of my sister’s eyes. Whimsy is going to have to do a better job than this playing along or we’re going to be found out by my family before this whole gig really gets going.
“Thanks.” I reach for her hand. I thought this faking thing would be easier for her than me, but I think I was wrong. Whimsy’s so good at everything she does, that I didn’t think this would be any different. Is the idea of dating me that abhorrent?
“How are you feeling?” my mom asks. “That was a close game.”
I rub my jaw with my free hand. “I’m glad it came out in my favor, but I’ve got to play better next time.”
Practice more. Practice harder. Play better.
There is no alternative.
Worry lines etch the sides of her mouth. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” I add. “Don’t worry about me.” I throw in a smile. “I’m just in a bit of a rut. I’ll get out of it, no biggie.”
I feel Whimsy’s eyes on me, boring straight through me. It feels like an itch on my skin, one I want to ignore but can’t.
When I meet her blue eyes, they’re full of understanding.
“Maybe you should join Noah and Sabrina on their morning runs,” my sister suggests.
“Fuck, no,” I curse. Noah Baker and I might’ve had a rivalry for years—and I guess we still have a bit of one when it comes to singles—but he’s become my friend and now my doubles partner. Despite that, the last thing I want to do is join him and his fiancée on their runs. I’m pretty sure it’s foreplay for them and I don’t want to be a spectator for that.
“Elias,” my mother admonishes. “Language.”
I arch a brow. “I’m an adult mom. Relax.”
“And other people are around.” She gives methe look—the one all mothers have somehow perfected.
I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key. My sister rolls her eyes.
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Am not,” I argue.
My parents give echoing sighs.
“You know,” my dad says, voice deep and tired sounding. “I thought one day you kids would grow up and stop arguing. I was wrong.”
“I’m not surprised,” Ebba says in a sing-song voice that tells me something savage is about to come out of her mouth next. “You’re wrong a lot.”
Our dad covers his face with a hand. “Can I go back in time and not have kids?”
Laughing, my mom places a hand on his arm. “Sorry, babe. Too late.”
