Page 31 of Breakpoint
The women’s locker room at the Citi Open Tournament in Washington, DC may not have been the best place, especially after a loss, but Dani was running out of options. She knew Jaz was one of those players who liked to wash the sweat and match off of her as soon as she could and was never one to wait until she could get back to her rental house or hotel. It was a slightly audacious move, perhaps even a little pathetic, staking out her territory like this, but Dani was beyond caring about appearances. She just needed to talk.
She adjusted the damp towel around her neck, the terry cloth doing little to absorb the knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. The humid air of the locker room hung heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and liniment.
Dani heard the locker room door open, and her heart picked up when she saw Jaz. And right behind her was Sascha.
Fuck.
Sascha’s match on one of the other courts must have just ended, too. She was drenched in sweat, carrying her tennis bag, and her signature headband was no longer on her head. There was no way she was having this conversation with Jaz with Sascha anywhere near them.
“Dani!” Sascha shouted when she spied Dani sitting on the bench across the locker room. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Congrats on the Olympic win.”
“Thanks.” She still couldn’t quite believe she was a gold medal winner and wanted to look over her shoulder and see who was standing behind her anytime someone congratulated her on the gold medal.
Sascha stuffed her headband and soggy wrist sweatbands into her tennis bag. “Let’s go out and celebrate. I heard DC has a great bar scene. I feel like we haven’t had a good night out in forever.”
“Umm…” She avoided Sascha’s bright, expectant gaze. A knot tightened in her stomach. She really,reallydidn’t want to go out. Her head throbbed, her muscles ached, and all she craved was a conversation with Jaz. She looked over Sascha’s shoulder to see Jaz grabbing things out of her locker. “I’m not sure—”
“Come on, Dani!” Sascha whined, her voice bouncing off the walls with petulance. “We’re both out of the tournament, so we can celebrate your medal and drown our sorrows at the same time.”
It was true she hadn’t been out with Sascha in months. Her time was taken up with training and spending time with Jaz. Plus, “old times” with Sascha meant late nights, blurry memories, waking up with a headache, and a vague sense of regret. She didn’t really missthat. She’d avoided many of those things now, and the results on the court had shown.
“I don’t know, Sascha,” she mumbled. Her eyes flitted around the room, anywhere but at Sascha’s expectant face. “I’m pretty tired, you know? Long season…” It was a flimsy excuse, even to her own ears.
Sascha rolled her eyes, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “Tired? Dani, we used to pull all-nighters before, during, and after tournaments! We’d be dancing until sunrise. What happened tothatDani? We haven’t gone out inages. I need my dance and drinking partner. We can post on our socials all over DC.”
“Look,” Dani began, trying a different tactic. She stood up and dropped the towel in the laundry. Her breath hitched when she saw Jaz take her sweaty shirt off. She’d seen Jaz in many states of undress, but now, knowing what it felt like to have her arms wrapped around her, it was affecting Dani in all kinds of ways. She tried to pay attention to what Sascha was saying, but focusing was hard right now. “I really appreciate you wanting to hang, Sascha, truly. But I’ve got…a thing. And I’m just not feeling it tonight. I’m really exhausted. I’m going to ice my knees and probably go to bed early. Maybe next time? You go have fun. You deserve it.”
A beat of silence hung in the air. Sascha’s smile faltered. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “Okay, well, maybe in Cincinnati. You’re playing there, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, and Montreal too.”
“Ohh, I love Canada and the French there. It’s a date. I’m going to hit the showers back at my hotel.” Sascha went to her locker, grabbed her essentials, and picked up her tennis bag off the bench.
Dani waved at her. “Later, Sascha.” With a quick wave back, Sascha slipped out of the locker room.
They were finally alone. This was it. She spied Jaz in her red sports bra, tennis skirt, and pink flip-flops she liked to wear in the locker room showers. Jaz bent over to grab her toiletry bag and Dani’s eyes zeroed in on her ass. She couldn’t help but stare, but if she continued to revel in this moment, she would miss her chance, and Jaz would escape to the showers. If Dani let her leave now, the silence between them might solidify and become permanent.
Taking a deep breath that did little to calm the frantic hammering of her heart, Dani moved. She walked deliberately, her tennis shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor, each step a conscious act of defiance against the swirling uncertainty in her gut. She reached Jaz just as she was grabbing her towel, her back still turned.
“Jaz,” Dani said, her voice louder than she intended in the quiet locker room. Jaz froze, her shoulders tensing. She didn’t turn around immediately, taking a beat too long, a breath too deep. Then, slowly, reluctantly, she pivoted, her expression guarded, unreadable. “We need to talk.”
Jaz’s carefully constructed composure showed a hairline fracture, but then she closed back up. “Just forget it ever happened. It was a mistake, Dani. We were drinking, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that. Honestly, I’m not even sure why you’re here waiting for me.”
Dani stumbled back for a second, confused by that statement. Had Jaz been thinking the whole time that she had taken advantage of Dani? “Is that what you think happened? Jaz, I kissed you. I wanted it too.” She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing Jaz’s arm. “I want you.”
Jaz looked back at her, her expression forlorn and almost sad. Dani barely caught her whisper.
“Why?”
“Because you’re gorgeous, dedicated, ambitious, exasperating, bitchy for no reason sometimes, and underneath all that, loyal and loving to the people that matter to you. And fucking amazing at tennis.” Jaz still didn’t look convinced, so she continued. “You’re anal as fuck about your routine that it drives me nuts but you also listen to me and see me beyond the nepo baby, Instagram model everyone projects me to be. I seeallof that in you, Jaz, and I still find myself wanting to be in your presence all the time. I want to know what book you’re reading and if Scott finally told Kira he’s crushing on her.”
Jaz’s eyes went wide at her declaration, opening and closing her mouth, but no words came out at first. When she finally spoke, they still weren’t the words that Dani wanted to hear. “We still can’t do this. We’re friends, sometimes doubles partners, and you’re so young. You can’t even drink.”
Dani scoffed. “I’m old enough to know what I want, Jaz. Besides, you don’t drink, anyway.” She summoned all her courage to ask for what she wanted. “Go out with me.”
Jaz’s eyes went wide at her plea. She shook it off but looked everywhere but right in Dani’s face. “Dani, we can’t go out. Theage difference matters, and some would say a power imbalance given where we are in our careers.”
She smiled at Jaz’s overthinking of everything. “Are these the thoughts that have been running through your head since last week? Jaz, you’re worth over a hundred million dollars. There will be a power imbalance with anyone you date. But I’m also a professional and have my own money. I don’t need yours. Plus, I’m asking you, and you’ve been nothing but above reproach.”
