Page 69 of Break Point
It’ll take a while for Henry to ease back into his usual self. And I know he’s right. I messed up by drinking last night. But as much as I keep telling him I’m not planning to do it again, he won’t listen.
I shouldn’t have kissed him while I was drunk, but I couldn’t help myself. And I can’t stop thinking about how he kissed me back. How he held me tight, pulling me in like he wanted it just as much … right until something made him yank away violently, like he regretted all of it.
The memory keeps looping in my head, and I hate it.
But right now, I can’t even walk straight, so I’ll have to dig deep and give him that one good serve he wants so we can walk off this court and listen to Drew telling me how another sponsor dropped me while trying to spin it as good news.
I can’t seem to crawl out of this lousy rut.
After grabbing a tennis ball, I bounce it again six times and refresh Henry’s memory on how to NEHBL since, for some reason, he thinks I’m not doing it correctly.
“Nose! Ear! Hair! Brow! Lip!” I call out each step, tossing the ball high and summoning the last bit of energy I have left. I hit it so hard it nearly knocks the air out of me, but it lands beautifully inside the right service box, slamming into the fence. A few people watching take an instinctive step back.
A flicker of smug satisfaction blooms in my chest
“I’m telling you!” Henry flashes a cocky smile. “You’re missing one of the steps. For some reason, you decided to stop doing the—Bells!” he shouts in a panic, rushing toward me.
Henry’s voice fades away quickly. A million black spots cloud my vision, making me take a few stumbling steps. I shake my head, trying to settle myself and fight back the blur. Uselessly, I reach out for him, but my knees hit the ground a second before he catches me.
“Ne … cio,” I breathe, surrendering to the darkness.
Welcoming it.
Letting it pull me under and swallow me whole.
My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I notice is that I’m in the doctor’s office at the country club. The air is crisp, carrying a pungent, sterile scent. I’m grateful for the air conditioning.
The second thing I notice is Henry’s firm and warm hand gripping mine. His other elbow rests on the bed, his hand pressed against his forehead as he stares down at his fidgeting feet.
“She’s awake!” Dr. Lee announces, striding into his office without warning.
Henry drops my hand like I’m contagious, shoving himself back in his chair. Regret tightens his features. He pushed me too hard at practice. I wasn’t in any condition to train, and he knew it. But his pride and anger took over, blinding him. He wanted to teach me a lesson when I’d already learned it on my own.
“Henry tells me you and Gemma paid Rudy’s hotdog stand a visit last night,” Dr. Lee says, lifting an eyebrow like he’s caught me red-handed. “Brave move. That chili’s legendary. For better or worse.”
I glance past him, searching for Henry’s gaze. He lied to protect me. He knows if my dad finds out I was out drinking, things will get ugly fast.
“I’m telling you,” Dr. Lee adds with a chuckle, “Rudy’s chili should come with a waiver. Delicious, but lethal.”
“You’re not wrong about that one,” I reply with a slow smile.
“How’s the nausea?” he asks. “The nurse gave you an antiemetic shot. Thankfully, your mom was around to authorize it. I would’ve called your dad, but I like my job.”
Henry and I chuckle.
If Mom is here, why isn’t she checking in on me?
“Thank you, Dr. Lee. I’m feeling much better, just exhausted from the jet lag,” I say, trying to sit up. I manage, but my head still feels off, and my knees are bruised. Nothing major. I’m not used to feeling like this. I rarely get sick. I can’t remember the last time I had a cold. Maybe I just need to eat, even if it’s the last thing I want.
“I wanted to rest today,” I add, “but Henry insisted I work on my serve.”
I shoot Henry a small smile. Let him take the blame for this one.
“I’m not one to meddle or tell you how to do your job, Henry,” Dr. Lee says, “but after a few days of stress and international travel, sometimesit’s best not to run your players into the ground. You don’t want her burning out.”
Dr. Lee has known Henry and me since we were kids. We spent so much time training at the club that visits to his office were inevitable with multiple scraped knees, sprained ankles, etcetera.
“How’s my favorite client doing?” Drew says, flashing a thousand-watt smile as he steps into Dr. Lee’s office, tapping a box of cigarettes against his palm. “Glad to see you’re back online.”
