Page 26 of A Summer of Stars
—Tennis Today
RANKED AT SEVENTY-FOUR,and I almost beat the third best female tennis player in the world. I’d usually be exhausted after a final match, craving a nap and a massive cinnamon raisin bagel, but I wasecstatic.
Pumping my legs on the stationary bike, trying not to think about the slick clothes seeping into my skin, I feltrelieved. Happy almost. Eight months of anxiety and heartbreak and fear of the public, and I was playing tennis better than I had anticipated.
But I wanted more. I wanted to be better. I wanted my old ranking back.
“You were a champ out there. You tired her out and pulled out her weaknesses within the first set. You play like that the rest of the season, and the US Open is yours,” Felix spoke gleefully, patting me on the back, not caring about the sheet of sweat covering my shoulder blades. “Be proud of yourself, okay?”
I nodded, releasing a breath. “I am. I’m really proud.”
He eyed me with suspicion. I laughed, shelving my mentalreplay of the match for later. Thinking about every move I could’ve done differently wasn’t going to change anything right now. “Okay, I kind of killed it,” I said with a shrug.
“That’s what I want to hear.”
Once I finished cycling and stretching, I left to change for an ice bath. My right ankle was sore, and my fingers were swollen from gripping the racket for so long.
In the back of the locker room, in a closed-off space where a tub was separated by a frosted door, I peeled my clothes off, allowing them to roll up and fall. I stepped into the ice bath, swiftly plunging my hips and head under the water.
The cold bit my skin like a swarm of mosquitos, bringing goose bumps to the surface. It was so cold it burned when I came up for air. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths, trying not to think about how much longer I had to remain as a human-sized ice cube.
The door to the room clicked open, and I jolted as Kieran walked in. I yelped, utterly bewildered. I raced to cover my exposed chest while resisting the urge to get out of the water and wrap myself in a towel.
“Mierda, lo—I’m sorry,” he cursed before rushing back out and slamming the door.
Whatwas he doing here? These were private locker rooms that even the male tennis players didn’t have access to.
My second thought was even more urgent:What did he manage to see?
“Whatare you doing down here?” I yelled, trying not to let my blush bleed into my voice.
“Your nutritionist pointed me in this direction,” Kieran explained quickly through the door, his silhouette pacing.
Amir, of course.
“And you listened to him?” I spoke louder so he could hear, pulling my hands away from my chest.
“Well, seeing as he knew where you were, and you know who I’m talking about, I took him as a trustworthy source. I didn’t think the consequence of listening to him would be finding you naked—”
“Did you just call seeing me naked aconsequence?”
“Would you rather me tell you that I was flustered—”
“Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“I didn’t see anything, Aldridge. I promise,” he said, his voice serious.
“It’s fine, I used to share a locker room with boys as a teenager, it”—nudity—I just couldn’t say it to him for some reason—“doesn’t faze me, I was just surprised.”
“Not being able to see you, I can’t tell if you’re lying to make me feel better.”Not being able to see you.Something about that made me feel more naked than before.
“Oh, you’ll know if I’m lying to you.”
He leaned against the other side of the door, his back spanning the frosted glass, his head tilted up. “You know, I’m questioning why I bothered coming down here in the first place.”
“To romance me?”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “You’ll know if I’m trying to romance you,” he mimicked my words, but I didn’t laugh. Rather, blood rushed to my face. I imagined it wouldn’t be difficult to be charmed by a man who played romantic leads. Especially since he had charmed me once.
