Page 31 of Rivals and Liars

"I don't want to lose tennis and her at the same time. I don't think I could handle that." Her voice comes out tight.

Rachel, in an automatic movement, brushes a strand of hair from her face, which sparks a few seconds of tension between them.

"You need mental stability, Kate—especially now, when one of the hardest stretches of your career is coming," the former swimmer continues, breaking the brief discomfort they both felt. "Talk to her. Put your feelings on the table—both of yours—and what you're each willing to do to keep going. That's the only way you'll be able to decide if you want to keep fighting for something that, right now, gives you little more than sex every now and then."

Kate goes quiet, turning over what she's just said. She's already made a decision: if things with Leire don't move forward by the time the US Open is over, she'll end what they have and try to start over—despite the deep pain she knows she'll feel. But Rachel is right about this; she can't take that step, knowing it'll break her, without first having a real conversation with Leire.

"Let's change the subject," the former swimmer suggests. She seems to have a gift for sensing the exact instant when Kate is about to fall apart.

She's spent many hours with the tennis player and knows every shift in her expression, and although Kate has cried in front of her a couple of times because she couldn't hold it back, she knows the athlete feels uncomfortable being that vulnerable.

"To what?" Kate smiles, eyes glassy, grateful that Diane brought this woman into her life—someone who sometimes feels like she can read her mind.

She reaches again for the comparison with Leire and can't find it. Not because she doesn't have that connection with her—she knows she does, has known it from the beginning, felt it the first time Leire looked at her and touched her at the same time. She felt something move through her that went beyond physical desire; it was something else, the sense that it was her—that the absolute ease she felt with a woman she barely knew was a sign that she was her person. And the only reason she hasn't had times like this one with her is that they've never let themselves have them.

"The first day, I told you to think of things you'd like to do that you hadn't gotten to because your schedule never allowed it. Have you come up with anything yet?"

Kate feels the heat rise in her cheeks and touches her scar with her index finger as if she's scratching it.

"Honestly, no," she admits, embarrassed.

"So you're completely ignoring me," Rachel teases, and Kate lets out a small laugh that loosens her muscles a little.

Chapter 16

Kate arrived in Cincinnati yesterday, late, with just enough time to get to the hotel, eat something light with Diane, and head up to her room to shower and go to bed. She's decided not to play the tournament and save herself for the last Grand Slam, but she'll use these days to keep up with the massages and adapted exercises she's been doing at home—ones that have helped her get rid of the pain without needing another injection.

Leire arrives today, and they've agreed to meet in her room tonight. Kate feels completely off-balance with herself, because that flutter is back in her stomach—the one that comes with knowing she'll see her, that sense of anticipation at the thought of brushing her lips, the urge to hold her and lose herself in the smell of her body.

It wasn't the plan. She'd wanted to talk the moment they saw each other, lay everything out on the table, and, like Rachel had suggested, at least try to figure out what they are to each other.

"Kate, focus," Diane demands when she tosses her a ball that flies right past her without Kate even seeing it.

"Sorry," she says with an amused smile that makes her coach huff, and then she starts moving on autopilot, because she can't stop thinking about everything that's happened these last few days.

She misses the island, the quiet of her house, the idle hours at the pool with her feet in the water and her eyes drifting to where the fresh water met the salt at the far end. She also misses her conversations with Rachel—a woman who'd arrived with the job of helping her through the transition out of the sport that had been her life for years, and who ended up becoming a confidante and friend Kate doesn't want to lose touch with.

They said goodbye early that morning. Kate was already outside, sitting on the edge of a planter, looking at her suitcase and Diane's, which they'd left by the entrance.

Rachel came out with hers, set it aside, and sat down next to the Australian while she finished her coffee.

"Ready to start the final stretch?"

The redhead nodded, thinking about Cincinnati and the US Open. Her stomach clenched for a moment just thinking about it, as if she'd just found out she was retiring—but it only lasted a second.

"What are you going to do?"

"Go home and find some other poor athlete like you who needs me," Rachel teased.

Kate let out a soft laugh through her nose and turned to look at her.

"I don't know how to do this—say goodbye to you."

"You don't have to do it any particular way." Rachel set her mug on the ground. "You have my number. Call me when you need me, no matter what time it is."

"What if I don't need you?" Kate hesitated.

"Then you'd make me happy if you called anyway."