Page 79 of Pickled
Piper froze. “Not unless we lose.”
If we could channel the energy between us into our game, the good-looking stockbroker and the cute pickleball pro were cooked.
Preston Hartwell took his position across the court. He had a smug country club air, and the ease in his movements told me all I needed to know. He underestimated us.
“Ready?” Janie called out.
The crowd cheered. It was time.
The first few points were rough. Piper was playing it safe, so I was trying to counter that, and my risky shots weren’t paying off.
“Zero-three-two,” I announced after we’d fallen behind.
We lost the serve.
“Piper,” I whispered. “Stop playing not to lose.”
“What?”
“You’re playing scared. Play like you did that day we practiced. Play like you want to win. Play like you hate me.”
Something shifted in her expression. The next serve came to her backhand side, and instead of hitting a safe return, she ripped a cross-court winner that left Preston too far forward.
“That’s more like it,” I said.
After that, we started to find our rhythm. When Preston hit a hard drive down the divorce line, I was there to cut it off. When Janie tried to lob over Piper’s head, she was already backing up to put it away.
“Seven-five-one,” I called as we took the lead.
The crowd was getting rowdy.
“Holy shit,” Morgan said. “They’re actually good.”
“Language, young man,” Dot called out, but she was grinning.
The turning point came at eight-seven. Janie hit a perfect drop shot that barely cleared the net. I was too far back to reach it, but Piper dove, somehow managing to scoop it up to send itback over the net. Preston, expecting her to miss, was caught completely off guard.
“Nice shot!” Owens shouted.
Piper popped up from the ground, her knees skinned and a huge grin on her face. “Did you see that?”
“I saw it,” I said. I raised my hand, and she high-fived it. We were a team.
We won the next three points quickly, closing out the match eleven-eight. The crowd erupted in cheers, and before I could think about it, I grabbed Piper and spun her around.
“We did it!” she squealed.
For a moment, we were just two people celebrating. Everyone around us disappeared, and it was just me and Piper. Her chest heaved as she laughed, and she actually hugged me back. The world returned after our spin, and I set her down.
“That was…” she started.
“Amazing,” I finished. “So, you know what this means…”
She nodded, still catching her breath. “Okay. I’m in. We’ll enter the tournament.”
We made our way to the net and tapped paddles with Janie and Preston. “Nice game.” Janie grinned.
To my surprise, Preston said the same thing. “You’re not a barracuda. You’re a goddamn shark,” he laughed.
