Page 19 of Drop Shot (On the Court #2)

WHIMSY

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, wondering if the baby blue dress is too much or just enough.

But I feel pretty in it, so that’s all that really matters to me.

I gather my hair up and secure it with a clip, pulling a few shorter front pieces free to frame my face.

Swiping a pair of sunglasses from my selection of three different styles, I place them on my head before rifling through my purses.

The first time Elias stepped into his closet and saw all my accessories he just shook his head and walked back out.

A girl has to have options, though.

I grab a pair of heels off the shelf and hold them against my dress checking to see how I feel about them.

“Not quite right,” I mutter to myself, returning them to the shelf and pulling down another pair.

“What was wrong with the other pair?”

I jump at the sound of Elias’s voice, turning around to find him leaning in the doorway. He’s dressed in a short-sleeve linen shirt and khaki-colored pants. A thin gold chain glints at his throat and a small gold hoop adorns one ear.

My breath catches.

I keep trying to forget just how fucking hot my fake-boyfriend is and then he has to show up looking like that.

“Whim?” he prompts, a dark brow arching.

What did he say?

I shake the cobwebs free from my thoughts. “The shade of blue clashed with the dress. I think white will look better.”

“Both look great to me,” he says, pushing away from the doorframe. “Not that my opinion matters.”

We don’t run into his parents or Ebba on our way out so I assume they’ve already left for the day. Jackson sent a car to get us, despite the fact that Elias has three separate vehicles that stay in Monte Carlo.

Elias opens the back door, gesturing for me to slide in first. I tuck my dress under me and do just that.

When the door shuts behind Elias, the driver wastes no time pulling out of the driveway and heading away.

It doesn’t take us long to reach the hotel where Julia is staying since she’s attending the tournament.

I’ve chatted with her before—Elias has filmed a podcast with her in the past—so at least she’s not a total stranger.

I exhale a shaky breath and Elias’s hand settles on my knee. I glance over at him with a questioning look.

“Nervous?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but I realize he’ll see right through me.

“A little.”

“Don’t be. Julia is nice.” He gives my knee a reassuring squeeze.

A small laugh escapes me. “I know. Who do you think set up your past interviews with her?”

He grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You, of course.”

“I just don’t want to say something to embarrass you or make it obvious this isn’t real.”

“You’ll do fine,” he says with far more assurance than I feel. “Just make sure to touch me. Kiss me if you want. Act obsessed with me.” His eyes glimmer with teasing.

“Ha, ha,” I fake laugh. Sobering, I say, “There should be some touching though, right? I mean, new couples are all over each other.”

“Absolutely.” He nods like an overly eager puppy. “Touch me anywhere you want.”

“Elias,” I laugh.

His eyes grab mine, holding me hostage in his gaze.

He’s … oh my God he’s serious.

I swallow past the lump that decides to lodge in my throat. He wants me to touch him. What the hell is happening?

Before I can thoroughly spiral, the car pulls up to the hotel’s entrance.

“Showtime.” Elias’s lips graze my ear with the word, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. I follow him out of the car, staring in momentary shock when he grabs my hand. But with fellow tennis players and staff crawling all over the hotel, I know it’s what we have to do.

We take the elevator up to Julia’s floor and stop outside her door.

“Do you need a minute?” he asks.

I appreciate that he’s checking in with me before we walk into her room.

“I’m okay,” I assure him, steeling my shoulders like I’m bracing for impact.

He doesn’t look like he quite believes me, but he listens anyway and knocks on the door.

“Just a second!” Her softly accented voice calls back.

A moment later the door swings open, revealing Julia in all her dark hair and all black outfit glory. The monochrome look might be boring on anyone else, but I’m certain the petite woman could wear anything and make it look fashionable.

“So good to see you both.”

We exchange cheek kisses in greeting before she ushers us through the tight space to where she has her filming spot set up with the couch and chair in view of the corner.

“Thank you for pivoting this conversation. I won’t ask anything too prying about your relationship, promise.

” She gives a soft laugh. “But since I’ve met you both several times I’d always wondered if you two would eventually end up together and well, here you are.

” She claps her hands together. “I think fans would love to hear from you both.”

“I’m not going to be very good at this,” I admit. “I’m not used to these things like he is.”

“You’ll do fine,” Julia assures, bending down to pull out two bottles of water from the fridge and handing them to each of us. “If you say anything you want me to not include just let me know and I’ll delete it before I post, or if at any time you want a break it’s fine.”

Elias gives my elbow a reassuring squeeze.

“You two will take the couch,” she continues.

“I’ll sit here.” She squeezes the back of the chair.

“I’ll mic you both up and do a sound check before we begin filming.

The first few minutes we’ll work on getting out the nerves, okay?

” She gives me an encouraging smile. “And then we’ll dive in. Sound good?”

I nod, but I know my nervousness is obvious. Elias lowers his head, lips grazing my cheek. “You’re going to do great, baby.”

A shiver races down my spine and I silently curse myself. He’s putting on a show for Julia, as we both should, but I’ve dreamed of hearing him call me that.

Julia clips the mics on us and has us sit. When there’s a good amount of space between us, she laughs and gestures for us to scoot in. “Don’t be shy lovebirds.”

Elias and I exchange a look, both of us scooting closer to the other. I open my water, taking a careful sip while Julia adjusts her lights and the camera.

When she finally has everything set the way she wants, she asks, “Do you guys need anything before we start or are you ready to go?”

Elias looks to me for my answer. “I’m good,” I say softly.

Julia starts the interview for her podcast off with her typical spiel before she has each of us introduce ourselves.

“You can be a bit of a controversial player,” Julia says to Elias. “You’ve always been well-liked despite that, but I know you had a run in earlier this year that turned into quite the rivalry with the up-and-coming American player Trager Pacey.”

Elias stiffens at my side.

He got into a verbal screaming match with the younger guy at the Australian Open.

I was there for the game and Trager was asking for it.

He was poking the bear the entire game, that much was obvious, but since Elias was the one to blow up, it ended up looking poorly on him.

When they had a match against each other again at Delray Beach, Trager was constantly making childish facial expressions and trying to discredit points.

It was a shitshow to say the least.

And that’s how I got sucked into this whole thing.

I place my hand on Elias’s knee, trying to provide a silent measure of comfort.

“I wouldn’t call it a rivalry,” he says in a measured voice. I have to hide my smile. I know it’s a dig at Trager for his rank. “We’re both passionate players so inevitably we’re going to bump heads. It happens.”

I give his knee a squeeze, pleased with his diplomatic answer. Jackson will no doubt find some sort of fault in it, but Elias isn’t the type to take Trager’s behavior lying down.

She asks a few more questions geared at Elias and tennis, how he’s feeling about this year, and what not, before she moves on to us as a couple.

“For those that don’t know, Whimsy is Elias’s longtime personal assistant.

I’m not sure things would run so smoothly for him if it weren’t for you.

” She gives a nod in my direction. “Has this been going on behind the scenes with you two for a while?” Her eyes hold a glimmer of hopefulness over the potential gossip.

Elias looks to me, letting me answer since so far all the focus has been on him.

I shake my head. “It’s very new, actually. We’ve been together two months now.”

“It was after the game with Trager at Delray Beach,” Elias says. It’s the first time we’ve put a specific timeframe on this whole farce. “Whimsy picked up on how I was feeling after everything and we realized we have more in common than we thought it fell naturally into place from there.”

“So, Whimsy,” Julia addresses me. “Are you still working as Elias’s assistant?”

I shake my head, but then realize I need to speak out loud. Not everyone will watch the video footage on YouTube.

“No.”

Elias reaches for my hand. “I didn’t want to put Whimsy in an uncomfortable situation where she felt like she might have to keep up a ruse in order to keep her job.”

“You all have known each other for several years now—when did you first meet? Were there sparks even then?”

Elias looks to me, arching a brow. I wrinkle my nose at being thrown under the bus.

“This November will be five years since we first met. It was an interview with him and his manager. His manager wasn’t too keen on me, I think he was afraid I might be a fangirl, but I honestly didn’t know who he was at the time.

But the job sounded right up my alley. So no, no sparks or anything like that. ”

Elias puts an arm around me, and I try not to squirm at the way he stares at me.

It’s intense, like he’s seeing straight through me to my soul.

“Not even one little spark, Whim? I’m offended.” I feel my cheeks heating. He grins, pointing at my flaming face. “Hold on. There’s something there. What is it?”