Page 24 of Drop Shot (On the Court #2)
WHIMSY
I slip my sunglasses on top of my head and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’m going out.”
I haven’t taken one step when the bathroom door opens and Elias pokes his head out, chain glinting at his bare throat. “Where?”
I shrug. “It’s Madrid. I’m going sight-seeing and shopping.
” It’s not that I haven’t seen the city before, but since I’ve always been running around these gorgeous places as his assistant, I’ve never truly gotten to take them in.
Now that I have the opportunity to change that, I’m not going to miss out.
We only just arrived yesterday ahead of the Madrid Open. Elias ended up losing in the semi-final for Monte Carlo which I know sucked for him even though he acts like it wasn’t a big deal.
“Can I go with you?”
Can he…?
My brows knit. “You want to go with me?”
“Sure. I have a free day. Might as well do something fun.” He opens the door wider, revealing his full-self and I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of him shirtless and damp from a shower with only a towel tied around his waist.
It’s so unfair that he’s so hot.
“Um. Okay.” I feel bad to say no if he genuinely wants to come.
“Give me ten minutes.”
“Okay.” At my agreement he shuts the bathroom door.
Since I won’t be walking right out the door, I set my purse back down on the table in the room. The suite is beautiful to say the least, but it’s not the biggest. Sure, there’s a couch and a bistro table and chairs, as well as a balcony, but it’s all one large space.
There’s no escaping Elias.
I know I was already sharing his bedroom, but strangely enough this feels even more intimate than I anticipated. There’s really nowhere else for me to go except the lobby or a nearby restaurant.
While waiting, I check my phone for nearby places.
As promised, it’s not quite ten minutes later when he opens the bathroom door and the scent of his cologne fills the room. It’s not like he even used too much—I’m just attuned to his scent.
“I’m ready,” he announces, grabbing a cap off his nightstand and putting it on backwards.
Fuck me .
Elias in a backwards cap might be my new kryptonite.
“Whim? Are you okay?” he asks when I’m quiet for too long.
I shake myself free of my momentary panic. “Just dandy.”
I grab up my purse and shoulder it again.
“Did you have a particular place in mind?” He adjusts the watch on his wrist.
“No, I thought I’d take a car into the heart of the city and walk around some and see what I stumble across.”
“Cool.” He claps his hands together. “I’ll call for a car.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re dropped off amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s not even high season for tourists and the area is still busy.
Elias arches a skeptical brow. “This is what you wanted to do?”
“Yep. I’ve never gotten to really explore for fun so I figured I might as well.” He frowns at that but doesn’t comment. “Should we find somewhere to eat?” Neither of us has had breakfast.
He looks around, taking in our surroundings. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”
A few minutes later we’re seated outside of a café. I’m aware it’s probably a total tourist trap place, but my rumbling tummy doesn’t care.
He picks up his menu, reading it thoroughly.
I squint, tilting my head to the side. “Can you read Spanish?”
He lowers the menu. “I’m fluent in speaking and not totally awful at reading it.”
I knew he spoke a little Spanish, but I certainly wasn’t aware he’s fluent. “Any other languages I don’t know about?”
His lips turn down in a frown. “A little French and Italian but I wouldn’t say I’m fluent in either.”
I fight a smile. “Something tells me you’re being modest.”
His smile is broad, eyes sparkling with humor. His seriousness from a moment before has entirely disappeared. “You should know by now that I’m never modest.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “You have me there.”
Elias is definitely not the type to humble himself in any way.
“I’m going to learn, though,” he says, taking a sip of water from the glass the waiter fills. “I’d like to be fluent in those one day. Add it to my repertoire.”
I can’t imagine knowing so many languages. He’s already fluent in English and Swedish thanks to his mom, but Spanish too? And potentially two more languages? My brain would explode.
We give our order, and I ask Elias, “So, what language do you think in?”
“English,” he answers without hesitation. “If I’ve been speaking Swedish a lot with my mom then sometimes certain words slip their way in, but it’s usually always English.”
“That’s fascinating to me.”
I stare at my hand where it trembles slightly around the glass cup.
I’m never sure if the tremors are from the lupus itself, or my medicine, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter. It’s still an annoyance regardless of the origin—a blatant physical reminder that I can’t escape my illness.
“Hey,” Elias says softly, stealing my attention back to him. “What’s wrong?”
I let out a sigh and prop my elbow on the table, chin in my hand. Holding up my opposite hand I show him the slight quiver.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but it still affects me.”
He reaches out and laces our fingers together, settling them on the table.
I stare for a moment at our linked hands.
There’s no one we know nearby, and it’s not like paparazzi follow tennis players around so there’s really no reason for him to hold my hand unless he wants to—which is crazy.
This isn’t real. We both know that. So why does it seem like he’s always searching for a reason to touch me.
I don’t pull my hand away, even if I should.
It’s not until our breakfast is brought out that he finally relinquishes his hold. Immediately, I feel like something is missing and I’d rather not dwell on why I feel that way.
When we finish eating, I pull out my wallet to pay.
“Not a chance.” Elias shakes his head, brandishing his card.
I roll my eyes. “I have money. I can pay.”
“I’m aware, but you’re not going to.”
I have to bite my tongue not to argue with him. Something tells me he’d get too much enjoyment out of me trying.
Heading out of the café, Elias leads me easily through the streets by the hand. I don’t see how he’s had time to figure his way around all these cities since his time is always filled with all things tennis.
Except…
I swallow down the sudden sour taste of jealousy.
It’s no secret that Elias is a bit of a ladies’ man, besides his talent and temper on the court the other thing that’s brought up with this name is all the beautiful women he’s seen with. That’s probably how he knows his way around so well. I’m just another girl allowing myself to be wooed by him.
I picture an animated cartoon of myself jumping up and down on my own heart in an attempt to squelch this stupid, raging crush I’ve had on my boss for way too long. This is a job, just like being his assistant was, and I shouldn’t forget that.
I tug my hand from his. I can tell at first that he doesn’t want to let go, but when he realizes I’m insistent he releases me, giving me a furrowed brow expression.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head. His puzzlement doesn’t dissolve.
I’m not going to let my sudden bout of annoyance and jealousy get in the way of the shopping I planned to do.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately depending on your perspective, Elias follows me around each store like a dutiful real boyfriend. Even whipping out his card at each location to pay for my spoils.
“Stop that,” I hiss as we leave the third shop.
He quirks a brow. “Stop what?” I can tell from the tick in his lips he knows exactly what I’m talking about and he’s not planning to stop any time soon.
“Paying for all my stuff,” I grouse. Don’t get me wrong, I love being spoiled, but he’s making it really hard to be annoyed with him. “Remember, I’m being compensated well for this.”
“I know, but if I were your real boyfriend I’d most certainly be indulging you with anything you wanted, so just let me do that, okay?”
But this isn’t real.
I bite my tongue. Better not to look a gift horse in the mouth as my mom would say.
In fact, I feel a challenge rise up inside me to see just how much money he’s willing to spend on me.
“I’m an expensive girlfriend,” I warn him.
He gives a quiet snort. “My card’s not even warm yet. Do your worst.”
With pleasure.