Page 104 of In Your Wildest Dreams
“You want to toss me over the fence first? Do I look gullible to you?”
“I promise I’ll be right behind you.” He gives me a quick kiss before resuming his position.
With a whole lot of nerves, I put my foot in Ash’s hands and let him help me over the fence. I land with a thud, ungracefully but unhurt thankfully. I stand and brush off the back of my jeans as I take in the sight in front of me.
“Heads up,” Ash says before launching the bag and then himself over to join me.
My gaze is glued to the darkened courts. The lines and net are barely visible in the moonlight, but my heart races.
“Ash,” I whisper, turning my head slowly to look at him. His cocky smile mixed with the sweetness of him bringing me here has warmth spreading through me.
“Pretty cool, right?” He moves over to a metal box and flips a door open, clicks a few buttons, and lights flood the tennis courts. There are two, side by side. The green and blue surface has white lines. It’s even covered.
All of it looks new, or barely used, which Ash confirms when he says, “He just built it last year. He’s always adding on something in the off-season. A pool house, a jogging path around the lake, and basketball and tennis courts. “I thought he was crazy, but turns out he just had really good foresight.”
With a wink he goes to the bags and pulls out rackets and balls. I’m still overwhelmed by all of it. Him, the hockey game, the fact he remembered something I said months ago—all of it.
I swallow around a lump in my throat as he extends one racket to me.
“Try to take it easy on me.”
My fingers wrap around the handle and my chest tightens. The weight of the racket in my hand is familiar and comforting. “I haven’t played in so long. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
He spins his racket and bounces a ball, looking like a pro. I have no doubt he’s good. Ash doesn’t strike me as someone who does anything badly.
We hit the ball back and forth without keeping score. I’m rusty, as I expected. And as expected, Ash is pretty good. Neither of us are going that hard though and it feels nice just to be playing.
“You’re incredible,” Ash says when we stop to catch our breath. My stomach flips at his compliment and the genuine delight in his eyes. “How long has it been since you played?”
“I can’t even remember. A year, give or take.”
His brows lift. “That long? I’d never know it. You’re really fucking good.”
I tap the racket against my thigh and look at the ground. “Thanks.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Yeah. I don’t think I even realized how much,” I say honestly. “I shouldn’t have quit.”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know. I was decent, but I was never going to play beyond college or anything.” I keep staring at my feet. “It was a big time commitment and with school and work, it seemed like the logical thing to cut.”
I can still see Gabe’s unimpressed, condescending smile when I told him I was going to cut back my hours at the hospital so I could make it work. ‘It’s a waste of time. You’re not talented enough to make it professionally, so what’s the point?’ He’d always try to soften the blow by adding, ‘I’m not trying to hurt your feelings.’
In hindsight, that’s exactly what he was doing.
Ash steps forward. He ducks down to catch my eye. The lights hit his face and he shoots a concerned and questioning smile at me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Sorry. Being here just brings up a lot of memories. I thought I had come to terms with not playing anymore.”
“Do you still enjoy it?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I do.”
“Then you should do it more. Who cares if you’re not going to make a career out of it?”
“Says the guy who gets paid to play hockey,” I say.
