Page 36 of Breakpoint
A warm blush crept up Jaz’s cheeks, suddenly flustered by her words. Only Lena had been overtly that forward with her. It was not something she was used to. Moreover, she saw the passion in Dani’s eyes. That she meant every word she said. “I’m not even sure how to respond to that.”
Dani broke eye contact and looked off into the distance. “It's probably better you don’t. Because what I really want to say and do shouldn’t be done in public.”
Dani was right. They were in public. And the playful banter, the lingering touches, the heated glances as they walked—it all culminated in a delicious, almost unbearable anticipation for that next kiss.
Dani brought her gaze back to Jaz and smiled. “So I’m changing the subject. What’s your favorite movie?”
Jaz laughed as she thought about the movie that was her go-to comfort flick. “Girls Trip.”
“Girls Trip?” Jaz could see Dani searching her memory bank. “I don’tthink I’ve seen it.”
“Technically, it’s a romantic comedy, but more than that, it’s about having friends who will always have your back. It’s not just laugh-out-loud funny, it’s about taking time with the people you trust the most to let loose and know they will always have your back. I wish I had that.”
“Well, we’ll have to watch it next time,” Dani declared confidently.
“Next time? You’re mighty confident there will be a second date.”
Dani popped an olive into her mouth with a sexy smile. “Oh yeah, there will definitely be another date.”
The city lights twinkled as the projector hummed to life, casting a beam of light that cut through the darkness.
And for the first time in a long time, Jaz felt like she was simply…herself. The movie, whatever it was, didn’t even matter. She was already captivated by this experience.
Under the cover of night, Jaz slid her body closer to Dani on the blanket. Dani took the hint, wrapped her arm around her, pulling Jaz closer into a light cuddle. Somehow, she was here, on a date with Daniela Kappas and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Being this close to her felt… normal.
The pre-movie announcements faded, replaced by the opening credits ofWhen Harry Met Sallyrolling, but at that moment, she wasn’t watching the screen. She glanced at Dani, her profile illuminated by the flickering light of the screen. Dani’s eyes were fixed on the movie, but Jaz could sense a shift in her energy.
She finally turned her head; her eyes meeting Jaz’s in the dim light. The question hung in the air between them, unspoken butundeniable. No one had ever looked at her the way Dani did, the way she was right now. The sounds of the movie faded into the background, replaced by the pounding of her own heart.
Leaning closer, drawn by an invisible force, their lips met. It was a soft, gentle kiss, a tentative exploration of lips that held the promise of something more. But it quickly deepened, becoming passionate, a release of the pent-up attraction that had been simmering between them all evening.
She was quickly reminded of what an amazing kisser Dani was. Because nothing could compare to the electric press of Dani’s mouth against her own. Running her tongue along the place where their lips met, she reveled in the subtle surrender as Dani opened her mouth to her. The world around them, the movie, the other people, the city, ceased to exist. There was only the feel of Dani’s lips, the taste of her, the intoxicating rush of finally giving in to the undeniable pull that had been drawing them together.
They lost themselves in the kiss under the stars, but what neither of them saw was the cell phone camera beside them, capturing every moment.
Chapter 13
30-15.
She was two points away. Two points from winning her first tournament on the professional tour. Roughly a hundred women had entered to win this event, the Rogers Cup in Montreal, and now only two remained. Only one of them would win.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky on the August day, and the weather was a balmy seventy degrees, though humidity made it feel much hotter. Dani bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, a barely contained tremor in her legs betraying the maelstrom within her body and mind. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence she’d built around herself to block out the noise. She could feel the weight of every eye in the stadium, the silent pressure of expectation.
Her focus narrowed, the roar of the crowd fading into a dull hum. The serve came right in her strike zone. After one step to her left, she moved her weight onto her front leg, dropped her racket head below the ball, locked her elbow, and swung from low to high, connecting solidly with the ball.
Thwack!
Her backhand was clean, the contact solid, sending the ball screaming down the line. It landed just inside.
“Fuck yeah,” she muttered under her breath with a fist pump. She walked back to the baseline and assumed her ready position, feet shoulder width apart, knees bent. The crowd roared.
Match point.
One point away from everything. Not only winning her first tournament, but it was a 1000-level event. These tournaments were one step below a Grand Slam, taking place over two weeks instead of one, coming with a ton of points in the rankings and a big fat check. She needed this win because it was getting really expensive paying for all the flights and hotels for herself and her team. Plus, getting all her rackets professionally restrung was adding up. In college, the school took care of those things, but now, as a pro, that was all coming out of her pocket.
She was surprised she had made it this far in this tournament. She had never been past the quarterfinals at any event, but some of the top players were knocked out in earlier rounds or retired from their matches early because of injury. Some might say it was a weakened field, but who cared? She still had to win it. She still had to make it through the gauntlet. It was taxing, both physically and mentally, to have the strength and the sheer luck to go two full weeks without dropping a match. So here she was, seizing the opportunity in front of her.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins, but she tried to calm herself down and focus on the mission at hand. Years of relentless practice, the sting of countless losses, wondering if maybe she hadleft college too soon. But she had an unwavering belief in herself, and it had all culminated in this single, glorious moment. Her hand, slick with sweat, tightened on the grip.
