Page 47 of Rookie Move
“You need to warm up?” she asked, giving the ball a bounce. “Wouldn’t want you to strain anything.”
“Serve it up. Or I’m going to think you’re stalling.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Love all,” she said.
Leo only had a split second to wonder how the word “love” had ever come to mean “zero” in tennis talk before the ball came flying over the net. He swung, returning it. She sliced the ball back nice and easy, and just like that they had a pretty good rally going. They used to hit together pretty frequently when they had just started dating. Not only were they both athletes, but the tennis club was somewhere they could spend time together and nobody questioned anyone’s motives.
Although, back in the old days, Georgia never took things easy on him the way she was now.
Leo returned the ball harder and right on the singles line, catching her by surprise. She didn’t quite make it there in time, and the ball was in. So it was his point.
Without comment, she retrieved it. “Love, fifteen,” she said calmly. Then she served it a bit faster than last time. And it was on. The battle slowly escalated, each of them ramping up their foot speed and effort. The first game gotto deuce before Georgia edged him out. He won the second game, but the third went to her after she aced him on the last serve.
“I guess your slice is pretty solid,” the tennis pro mumbled at one point.
They were both sweating now. Georgia walked over to the side and grabbed a water bottle, taking a gulp and then holding it out to him.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle, admiring the light sheen of sweat on her chest. But then she stalked back to her corner and frowned, ready for the next game.
Leo bounced the ball and caught it again, preparing to serve. He’d forgotten how this felt—the single-mindedness of tennis. Playing Georgia quieted the worrying in his head, because whenever he forgot to focus on that fuzzy little ball, it always went poorly. And this wasfun. Sports without life-altering consequences on the line. What a revelation. There was a time in his life when hockey had been just a game, but that time was long gone.
They played on, and Georgia took the first set. “Had enough yet?” she asked.
“Fuck no.”
The tennis pro frowned at him for cursing. But that dude was just jealous. He’d been reduced to just standing there while Leo had the pleasure of getting sweaty with the hot chick who knew how to hit. Even if it wasn’t his favorite kind of sweaty.
“Okay, tough guy,” Georgia said taking one more swig from the bottle. “Let’s see if you can make a comeback.”
He bit back the innuendo on the tip of his tongue and readied himself for the next attack. He would never get enough of getting bested by the beautiful creature running around on the other side of the net. It wasn’t just her long legs in a short skirt, or the flush in her face. He might even be more turned on by her look of determination than the view of her cleavage when she leaned down to tie her shoe.
He’d dated quite a few women in college, but he’d never gotten to know any of them as well as he’d known her, hadhe? He’d never felt the same connection, or shared so much in common with anyone else.
What would his annoying little brother say about that? Leo wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Focusing on the game again, he stayed even during the second set. It was four games to four, and he’d remembered how to use his longer reach to retrieve the ball when she wasn’t expecting him to. But Georgia wasn’t having that. For two more games she dug deep, finding some kind of extra mojo, and she handed his ass right over the net. And when she lunged hard for the ball on the very last point, the guttural sound she let fly was a force to be reckoned with. It was a sound so soulfully deep that he felt himself start to go hard.
Fate listened, and that ball went sailing past the end of his racket with no more than an inch to spare.Jesus. He might be the first guy in history to get all boned up while losing a tennis match.Down, boy.
They met at the net, both of them winded. “I guess you’ve still got it,” he panted. He’d meant her tennis game, but somehow it came out sounding X-rated. And damn if her nostrils didn’t flare.
To get even with her, Leo wiped his face with his T-shirt. When he caught her eyes on his six-pack, he had to bite back a smile.
Oldest trick in the book. He used to pull that shit back in the day, too.
Georgia thanked the tennis pro for his not-quite-useful time. And then the two of them walked back to the hotel together. They didn’t speak, and Leo tacked it up to sexual tension.
Either that, or Georgia was just tired from giving him a beat down. It could really go either way.
“Leo,” she finally said in a low voice, just as they crossed the hotel lobby, “there’s a favor I need.”
Please let it involve nudity. “What’s that?”
“There’s some people shooting a ‘Hunks of Hockey’calendar tomorrow. They asked for your participation specifically.”
It took a second for the disappointment to sink in. But then Leo barked out a laugh. “So this requestdoesinvolve nudity?”Just not the kind I was hoping for.
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s generally how those things are done. Nothing, um, vital will be shown.”
