Page 34 of Serve
“Tyler’s going to win, damn it. I know it.” He said aloud without realizing it. Emm looked at him and smiled. She raised her hand, and for a moment Chip didn’t realize what she wanted, then it dawned on him.
They high-fived each other and settled back in their seats for the second set.
Tyler broke Juan’s serve, and then Juan broke his. He and Tyler were trading service games back and forth, each player unable to turn the tide in their own favor. By the end of the second set the lower half of Tyler’s body was coated in a fine layer of red dust. He got lucky when Juan double faulted on set point, which would have won him the match. Tyler broke his serve, and won the second set 7-5.
Chip’s senses were on high alert, because he’d never seen Tyler play as hard as he was now. His determination to win turned inward, and he kept his focus solely on his opponent. Tyler didn’t look up to his box once for support, and to Chip’s surprise, his body responded. Each lunge for the ball elicited a small groan from Tyler. Normally he was a quiet player, not given to the grunts and groans of many of his opponents. Today was a test though, and Juan’s excellent play forced him to reach deeper inside himself to pull out a win.
Each man held serve at the beginning of the third set. Exhaustion was settling in, and the volume of their groans grew as their bodies fought for the win. In Tyler’s second service game, Juan hit a ball cross-court that should have been a winner, but Tyler slid through the court with a loud grunt and hit a backhand up the line for a winner. The crowd went wild at this display of raw athleticism, but Chip remained seated. His eyes were closed as he applauded, because all he could hear when Tyler hit the winner was the sound of his man on top of him, hammering him in a fit of lust.
He opened his eyes as the crowd quieted. Tyler’s white shirt stuck to his body, covered in perspiration and red mud. The flimsy material clung to his defined abs, and sweat soaked his dark hair, dripping down his nose as he bounced the ball on the court. Tyler’s serve had never been much of a weapon, but now he was a different player. He hit two aces in a row, and held serve to take the game.
Tyler was a gladiator in the arena, battling for every point. He broke Juan’s serve in the next game, lunging for an unexpected drop shot, and by sheer luck managed to hit a drop shot in return that Juan hit into the net.
The crowd chanted Tyler’s name as he served for the match. On his first serve he hit the ball into the net. On his second serve, instead of hitting it softer to avoid a double fault, he aced it up the t, then fell to the ground in disbelief as the crowds went crazy.
He’d won his second masters' tournament in a row, and was now considered a major threat going into the French Open. He picked himself off of the dirt, and shook Juan’s hand at the net. Tyler lifted his hands over his head and faced the roaring crowd. Chip saw tears of joy in his eyes, and at that moment realized how important the sport was to Tyler.
Four hours later, Tyler and Emm arrived back at the hotel. Once the door to their room was closed, Chip took him in his arms and held him tight. Tyler’s body stiffened against him, then his muscles relaxed and he held him tight. Seconds later Chip felt Tyler’s shoulders shake as all of the emotion from the last few hours came to the surface.
“I didn’t think I could do it.” Tyler said through his tears. Chip led him to the bed and sat him down. Then he got on his knees in front of him and held his hands.
“Babe, you were a warrior today. I’ve never heard or seen you like that before. I... I think I get it now, why you give your all to this, why you don’t want to give it up.” Chip wiped away Tyler’s tears with trembling fingers.
“But, I do want to give it up.” Tyler stood and paced the floor where Chip sat on his knees.
“That’s the only thing I like about it now, winning. I hate these strange hotel rooms, and the travel. Damn, and I really hate press conferences.” He sat again in front of Chip, and took his hands in his.
“When the crowd is behind you, and the energy pushes you forward, it’s the biggest rush imaginable. Yeah, it’s addicting, but I don’t want to do this forever.” Tyler said, then his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked to see who it was and smiled.
“Hi, Sania! Did you see the…?” His face fell as she started to speak, then he grew pale.
“Okay. I’ll see you in Paris.” He hung up and put his face in his hands.
“What’s wrong, Tyler? What is it?” Chip sat next to him and put his arms around his shoulders. Tyler looked up, a stony expression on his face.
“Someone sent Sania pictures of us, while we were on vacation together.”
Chapter Seventeen
Tyler- Paris
“I’ll be here for the tournament. Ajay is taking the kids to Disneyland Paris for a few days, then to Germany. I’ll be with them a couple of days, but I mostly need to manage things here for you.” Sania said. She’d arrived with her family in tow late last night. So far, their conversation was light, gently skirting around the real reason she was there.
“If you think it’s for the best, I appreciate it.” Tyler pushed his plate to the side, done with his breakfast. He longed for bacon and eggs, but he was in training, so he ate oatmeal and berries instead. The hotel they were staying at was small, catering to a wealthy clientele who preferred discretion. The waiter took their finished plates and left them alone. They were the only ones in the back of the small dining room.
“Okay. Let’s talk about this.” She took a manilla folder out of her bag and slid it across the table. Tyler touched it, and pulled back reflexively. He grimaced and looked into her eyes. She nodded for him to open it.
“Oh, my God,” he said. Tyler anxiously looked around them, then picked up the pictures and eyed them one by one. His lips shut tightly together, forming a straight firm line. He shut the folder. His heart raced, and his vision blurred. He took a deep breath, then put his face in his hands.
“Yes, that was my reaction too.” She sighed, then took the folder back from him and slid it into her bag.
“We discovered a photographer and chased her off. We thought we’d be fine, because all we were doing was skinny dipping in the pool. So she was there over a few days, not just… fuck!” He picked up his napkin and started yanking on it. He glanced down, noticed it was made from cotton, not paper, and threw it back on the table.
“Oh, Tyler, I wish there was something I could say to make this go away. I can’t. Whoever is doing this has you right where they want you.” Sania commiserated.
“Was there a note attached? Do you have any idea who could have done this?” He asked.
“We’ve checked everything, and we’ve come up with a big, fat zero. In my opinion, this is not the press because it would be all over the news by now if it were. This is the work of an individual, someone who has it out for you.” She said.
