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Taylor’s chest tightened at the text. Typing out a message to send back, Taylor bit the inside of her cheek. She settled on:

Never got rid of it. See you around, Macky.

Taylor strutted down the block, waiting a block or two before calling her car. As she stood outside a straight bar – waiting for her driver to arrive – Taylor felt the vodka wearing off. Had she really made out withMackenziein the bathroom of a gay bar? The question alone would have given Kim a heart attack. But everything about it felt so right.

And if Mac was still willing to text her, maybe she wasn’t still furious at Taylor for how it all ended.

“What do you think?” Connor Garcia asked as he cut up his steak.

Taylor’s eyes widened as she came out of her haze. She scrambled to figure out what he was talking about but eventually had no choice but to laugh. “I’m sorry, I completely spaced out.”

Waving his hand, Connor giggled. “That’s okay. Are you okay?”

Taylor tapped her hand against the table for a second. They were seated in the back room of a gorgeous sushi restaurant in Midtown. Kim had made a point to have paparazzi waiting for them outside. And after spending about thirty minutes with Connor, Taylor was pretty sure they were in the same situation.

“Honestly, no.” Taylor set down her chopsticks. “I’m going to be so honest with you, Because I think our managers set us up for a reason. And if they didn’t, we both signed NDAs. I can’t stop thinking about this woman…”

Connor wiped the corners of his mouth and let his shoulders drop. “Oh my god, thank god. I was so worried you wereactuallytrying to date me. And don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous. But… not my type.”

“No offense taken.” Taylor laughed as she shoved a piece of sushi in her mouth.

“So, who is she?” Connor’s voice had shifted from the deeper tone Taylor had heard him use in interviews to a more natural, higher pitched one.

Taylor rubbed her forehead. “Okay, that I really can’t disclose. But we used to be really… close. And then my mom found out and she kept us apart.”

Connor raised his hands, doing air quotes. “‘For your own good’?”

Sighing, Taylor nodded. “Yep. But we reconnected.”

“Oh, did you?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

Taylor shrugged, laughing. “Not as much as I wanted to. But I can’t stop thinking about her. Do you have anyone like that?”

Checking the door of the private room, Connor nodded. “I do. My assistant coach.”

A smile crept onto Taylor’s face. “See that makes sense. He is cute.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Do you swing both ways?”

Taylor nodded and shrugged. “I love a beautiful person.”

“One in particular.” Connor teased as he reached across the table and stole a piece of sushi. “My manager insisted I order steak to seem more ‘manly’.”

Pushing her plate toward him, Taylor grabbed his steak. “Mine told me to get sushi because it was ‘cleaner’ and showed off my ‘feminine hands’.”

Before he could stop himself, Connor cackled. “Stop that. No tennis player has feminine hands. Those rackets are not gentle on us.”

Taylor pointed her fork at him. “Exactly. Okay, but in all seriousness, how are you hiding it?” All through her career, Taylor was shocked by how many players managed to maintain their own privacy. Even Barbara McConnell had kept her sexuality a secret for a large majority of her career.

“We’re quiet, and we don’t fool around at tournaments. Too many people there want to tear down the competition. But when we’re home, we share a two bedroom and claim we’re roommates. Most people will do anything to believe that queer celebrities are straight.” Connor shrugged.

But Taylor bit her lip. Kim made sure that Taylor was never alone. There was always a camera, always an engagement. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Mac to force her to stay hidden again.

Connor sighed. “And I know what you’re thinking, it isn’t fair. But honestly, everyone assumes the women’s players are all lesbians anyway… if that makes you feel any better.”

Taylor leaned back in her chair. It would have been a comfort if her mom wasn’t so afraid of what that truth actually looked like.

“Do you want my opinion?” Connor put his elbows on the table and lowered his voice. When Taylor nodded, he continued, “Tennis will take up about 25% of your life. And the rest… is whatever you built with that quarter. And there’s no point living for the rest if you let the game dictate who you are.”