Page 95 of Risky Match
BLAKE
When I tell Josh that I’m done with Wimbledon, he insists we grab a drink at an out-of-the-way pub he knows. As far as I can tell, Josh is the only person who hasn’t betrayed me in the last few months, so I grudgingly agree. It’s better than sulking in my room, avoiding Bri.
The pub is small and dark with dingy wood paneling. Football plays on the TV. A few regulars sit at the bar munching on crisps and drinking beer. No one pays any attention to us as we claim the corner booth.
I’ve given up on my training for now, so I happily raise the pint he sets in front of me. Downing half the glass in one long pull, I feel a sense of relief. At this point, I seriously doubt things could get worse, but I might as well drown my sorrows tonight.
Josh says, “Mate, I can’t believe the story you told me. It’s obvious you’ve left out some details. What I don’t understand is why you’re mad at Brianna.”
Fidgeting with the drink coaster, I assess whether I can share more with Josh. It would help to have someone to talk to about what Bri did, but I can’t. “Unfortunately, the officials made me sign a confidentiality agreement. I can’t say anything else. This whole situation is beyond comprehension.”
“I respect that. But you said Brianna was faking her attraction to you. I just don’t believe that. Have you seen the way she looks at you?” He flutters his eyelashes, pretending to mimic her.
I almost laugh at his abysmal imitation, but my mood is too dark. “You don’t understand. She’s a phenomenal actor.”
“No one’s that good,” he says with confidence.
I smirk. “Apparently, she’s been trained by the best.”
I wonder if our encounter two years ago was part of a mission too. I don’t even know how long she’s been a spy.
Josh leans forward. “Blake, quit ripping up that poor coaster and look at me. Does it really matter what Bri did when you still have the chance to take home the Wimbledon mixed doubles title?”
Between clenched teeth, I explain, “I don’t want to be anywhere near her. She’ll screw me over again.”
Truthfully, I’m not sure what else she could do now—other than try to convince me things between us were real. Is that what I’m afraid of—that I’ll fall for her story again?
Resting his chin on his palm, Josh furrows his brows. “I see. Your plan is to screw her over first by not showing up.”
“Exactly,” I say, downing the rest of my pint, avoiding his stare.
His face hardens. “You two would probably lose anyway. But if you show up, you’d at least get the prize money. Otherwise, you’re going to forfeit quite a bit.”
I clench my fists. How dare he insinuate that we’d lose? We made a great doubles team. We’re quite capable of winning this tournament. But I’ll be damned if I’ll defend Bri to Josh. Instead, I seize on the other half of what he said.
“Why does everyone think I need more money? I’m a multimillionaire.”
Palms up, he says, “It’s not about what you need. It’s about business. Who would walk away from that kind of money over a disagreement with your partner. You’re guaranteed the second-place money if you merely show up and play. You don’t even have to talk to Brianna.”
Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that. I admit, “That’s true. I could physically show up and ignore her. She can go fuck herself for all I care.”
Josh slaps me on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
Before I can respond, his phone dings with an incoming message.
“Oh no!” he groans.
“What is it?”
“You’ll never believe this. Your parents are having dinner with Bri and her parents. They’re all at the house waiting for us to join them.”
What a great time to be at the pub. I don’t want any part of that shit show. “Let’s order another round and pretend you didn’t receive the message.”
His face twists in disbelief. “Are you kidding? It’s your parents, a former king and queen, and a princess. Are you really going to stand them up?”
I only thought it couldn’t get any worse.
Somehow,we survived dinner last night. I was able to avoid talking to Bri by being particularly attentive to my parents.
