Page 75 of Drop Shot
His words of praise do something to me that I don’t want to delve into right now.
“See.” He grins. “You’re doing it.”
“Because you’re helping me,” I protest.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Now, put your arms around my neck.”
I do as I’m told, and our bodies press together, fitting perfectly. If it weren’t for my heels I would be on my tiptoes in this position.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” he murmurs against the top of my head.
I don’t answer him. I’m too busy trying to make sure I don’t step on his feet.
“Relax,” he croons. “I feel how stiff you are.”
I force my gaze up to his and away from the shuffle of our feet. “I don’t want to step on you.”
He chuckles. “You’re not going to.”
“How do you know?” I argue back.
A squeak flies out of me a moment later when he lifts me in his arms so my feet dangle a few inches off the ground.
“That’s how I know.”
His lips are dangerously close to my mouth. I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me.
His eyes flicker down to my lips and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.
“You’re going to have to put me down. You can’t just hold me indefinitely.”
He rolls his eyes at my comment. “You’re light as a feather. It’s no big deal.”
I close my eyes and lean my head against his chest. I have to remind myself that this isn’t real, because it very much feels like lines are being crossed and my stupid brain and heart are getting confused.
Not real, not real, not real. I chant the words silently to myself.
But man do I want it to be.
CHAPTER 24
WHIMSY
It’sthe semi-final for the Madrid Open. Elias’s game today determines whether or not he’s going to the final. I want him to have this win more than anything. He’s been off this entire year and I know with as well as he’s played in years prior—being hailed as one of the future greats—that only having a few wins this far into the tennis season is messing with him. Not to mention, it’s been the semi-final tripping him up the most lately.
I sit crossed legged on the floor with my mirror, trying to do my makeup, but my hands have chosen today of all days to be extra shaky.
“Fuck,” I curse, tossing down my eyeliner.
Elias chooses that moment to come out of the bathroom, freshly showered from his early morning stretch and practice, before he meets up with his coaching team to head to the arena.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, watching my eyeliner tube roll under the bed.
He drops down and peers under with his phone flashlight before I can even attempt to look for the runaway eyeliner.
“My hands are too shaky today. I’ll just have to do a simple eye look.” But man do I love my winged eyeliner. It’s one of my favorite parts of doing my makeup. Executing a perfect wing took me so long to master.
Elias pulls out the eyeliner with an ecstatic, “Aha,” before handing it to me. “Is it something I can help with?”
