Page 87 of It’s All in How You Fall
So, I simply say, “You know, I think it’ll be good for me.”
Sunny smiles, and Peregrine matches the sentiment with words. “We think so too.”
Peregrine is facing the door, and the second her eyes light up, I know Alex has finally joined us. I turn around and gasp as I confirm he’s the most handsome person I know. How did I not realize this until just now?
The lights of the clubhouse glow over his shoulder, the golden hour candlelight-soft on the edges of his hair, summer-tan skin, white polo. The shirt’s top button is open, revealing the soft scoop of his throat. Just… wow.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he says to Peregrine and Sunny, ever gracious.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Sunny replies.
“Thanks for introducing me to the love of my life, the Swiss-and-mushroom crepe,” Peregrine adds.
Alex laughs. “You guys are always on point.”
“We are. And we know when to exit stage left,” Sunny says, grabbing Peregrine’s arm. “Good night, folks, and good luck at two-a-days!”
And they’re out. Sunny’s hauling Peregrine toward the path that leads around to the front and the valets holding her car hostage.
Alex nods at their retreating forms. “I swear I showered.”
I stand on my tippy-toes to tussle his still-wet hair. “Yeah, I don’t think it was your hygiene.”
I trail my fingers down from his hair to his jaw and cup it in my fingers. His hands encircle my waist, drawing me close.
“I’m so proud of you, Alex. You did great.”
He kisses my nose with a self-effacing sigh. “I did good enough to win. Coach Bev’s right, I’m rusty.”
Rusty?Not distracted. That’s an improvement that I don’t question.
“I am obviously not an expert in tennis—yet—but Iaman expert on being too hard on myself and I think you don’t need to worry too much.”
Alex wets his lips, teeth flashing white in the night, and raises a brow toward his perfectly curling hair. “Well, I better shake the rust off quickly, because Winston-Salem is in less than a month.”
I slip my heels back to the ground to steady my stance and clutch his arms. “You took the wild card?”
“Sure did. You’re right—I have the opportunity, I should at least attempt to do it my way.”
I’m thrilled. Absolutely thrilled—and worried. “Alex… I’m sure you can balance tennis and soccer, but I want you to promise me that if I’m too much, that if this is too much—”
Alex cuts off my words with a kiss so hard and hungry that I nearly achieve liftoff. His mouth is minty and sweet, his skin still warm from the court hours and shower steam. After a moment, I pull away just enough to gaze into his eyes, swaying a little with him.
“The worst parts of my play today had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.” His dimples wink as he presses his forehead to mine. “The best parts of my play today, though, had everything to do with the fact that you were there in the stands.”
I believe him. I believe in us. And I’m starting to believe in my own advice.
There’s nothing written in our genetic code that says we have to be alone to do great things.
“Good, because I plan on watching every soccer match too. Which reminds me…” I reach into my bag and pull out a tissue-wrapped log. “For you.”
It’s slightly wilted from the heat, but of course Alex accepts my present like it’s an object worth an international heist. I collect the tissue paper and string while he gently unwraps it. Once the paper is gone, it’s very clear this is a men’s sleeveless shirt in the same KC Royals blue he wears constantly. “Please tell me this is my ‘Cheese is not the enemy’ shirt.”
I grin at him—if the Mozza-Monster becomes our signature meal, that’ll be ordered next. “Not quite.”
He unfolds it and holds it up. “That’s how I roll,” he reads aloud, and under the words are the balls for his three sports: tennis, soccer, basketball. There were a million designs with that saying and each of the balls separately, but I wanted to make sure every one of his athletic loves were in one place, just for him.
“I love it, Caroline.” To prove it, he yanks it over his head, over his fancy polo, where it fits all weird but he still looks amazing. He spins around as if to prove it’s perfect, and when he’s back to facing me, he grins. “I suppose I’m lucky that you didn’t do the same design with the phrase ‘I do ball sports.’”
