Page 27 of Drop Shot (On the Court #2)

ELIAS

“You’re in a shit mood,” Noah notes as we take a break from practicing together to drink some water and fuel up on a banana. “What the fuck happened?”

I chew and swallow, trying to appreciate the brief moment of reprieve from the sun as we sit beneath the umbrella.

Across the way Noah’s coach and friend Fisher chats with Sabrina while Maddie bounces a tennis ball.

She’s starting to show interest in playing.

I wonder what Noah thinks of that. It’d be cute—his little girl following in his footsteps.

I don’t want to tell him, but since he knows that this relationship is fake while I’m developing very real feelings, I decide it might be best to just be honest.

“I woke up holding Whimsy.”

He arches a brow. “And that’s put you in a bad mood because?” He drawls out the word. “Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy?”

I screw the cap back on my water bottle. “My fingers were dangerously close to finding their way under her pants and my dick was digging into her ass.”

Noah busts out laughing. I should probably be offended but if roles were reversed, I’d be laughing at his expense.

I guess it’s time the tables were turned.

I certainly had fun tormenting Noah over his blatant crush on Sabrina.

Even though it was clear something was going on between them, I made it a habit to flirt with her in front of him and even ask her out.

“Oh, this is amazing,” he chortles. “You’re so down bad.”

I am. There’s no sense denying it.

“It was so embarrassing,” I groan, lowering my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so clueless with a woman before. So out of sorts.”

Noah smacks his water bottle against mine in a cheers. “Join the club, dude. That was me with Sabrina. I didn’t know if I wanted to choke her or fuck her senseless.”

“You could always do both,” I joke.

He laughs. “Oh, I have.” His face settles into an amused grin. “Here comes your girl.”

My head nearly falls off with how fast I face the direction he’s looking.

Whimsy steps onto the court, looking far too gorgeous in some sort of light blue fitted dress.

It’s sleeveless, but hugs her body all the way down, ending a few inches above her ankles.

Her iPad is tucked against her chest, fingers loosely gripping the pencil as she chats with Sabrina and Maddie.

I want to ask myself how I never noticed her, but the thing is I did .

I knew when I hired Whimsy as my assistant that she was a stunning woman.

But I also knew that out of everyone I interviewed, she was the most qualified, and I really needed the help, so it wasn’t worth messing things up by thinking with my dick.

But now she’s not my assistant and she’s playing the part of my girlfriend instead.

Beside me, Noah laughs. I’m glad one of us finds this whole situation amusing.

He adjusts his baseball cap so that it shields more of his eyes from the sun. “I can’t wait to see how this whole thing plays out. This is better than any reality show.”

“Shut up,” I grumble. I take another sip of water and stand. We’ve taken a much longer break than we should’ve. “Let’s get back to it.”

“You really like me beating your ass, don’t you?”

I don’t need the reminder that Noah has dominated me today. If this were a real match, and not practice, I would’ve been decimated.

“Hey, Whimsy?” he calls out and her head perks up in his direction. “Why don’t you give Elias a good luck kiss? I’ve been outscoring him left and right. A kiss might help.”

Her comically wide eyes turn in my direction. She doesn’t know that Noah knows this is fake. But regardless, Sabrina certainly doesn’t know.

“Oh, um.” She tucks a piece of long blond hair behind her hair. “A good luck kiss? Yeah. Totally. Sure.” She hands her iPad off to Sabrina.

She heads in my direction, eyes downcast on the court.

I send Noah a look that says he’s going to be hearing about this later.

Whimsy stops in front of me. Her blue eyes are wide with nervousness.

“You don’t have to kiss me,” I tell her. “He’s just being an ass.”

She shakes her head and presses a shaky hand to my chest. “No, it’s okay. You’re my boyfriend, right?”

My eyes drop to her lips—a soft pink, shiny with gloss.

“Right.”

She places a hand on my chest and it slowly climbs as she stands on her tiptoes until that hand is wrapped around the back of my neck.

“Whim?” I hesitate.

“Quiet,” she whispers, breath ghosting over my lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

I don’t know why, but I expect her to go for my cheek or the corner of my mouth, but she does neither of those things.

Her lips press softly against mine. I’m not in control of my hands as they settle on her waist, squeezing her against me.

She moans into my mouth at the pressure and I finally return her kiss.

Holy shit, I’m kissing Whimsy.

One of my hands slides up to cup her cheek as I kiss her deeper.

She tastes minty, like she either just brushed her teeth or finished chewing gum.

“Whim,” I breathe against her mouth.

My utterance of her name seems to snap her out of it and she pulls away, eyes dropping but not before I see the embarrassment there.

I grab her hand before she can run. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

“Was that too much?” she asks, eyes reluctantly darting up to meet mine.

“It was fucking perfect.” I squeeze her hand.

She nods and hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “I better get back over there so you can finish practice.”

“Okay.” I’m grinning like a fool and her cheeks flush.

“Good luck,” she whispers before she scurries away.

Across the net Noah smirks.

I look forward to wiping that satisfaction off his face when I obliterate him this round.

When we finish practice, we’re both dripping in sweat as we slowly sip some water.

“I think your good luck kiss idea backfired for you.” I arch a brow.

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Nah, I got exactly what I wanted. You’re welcome.” He pats me on the shoulder.

“Asshole.” I bump him back.

“Maybe once.” He squints against the sun. “Now, I’m just a guy who wants to see my friend happy.”

I grin. “It killed you to call me your friend, didn’t it?”

“Tasted gross as I was saying it,” he jokes, getting up from the bench and shouldering his bag. “I’m going to shower and hang out with my girls.”

“Cool,” I reply. “I’m going to…” I don’t know what I’m going to do, but Whimsy is headed my way.

“See you later,” Noah says before he walks away, and Whimsy takes his place.

“Hey,” I say, zipping up my bag.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I got a text from Jackson.”

“Oh?” I lean back against the bench. “What did he want?”

With a sigh, she says, “He made reservations for us to have dinner.”

I scratch the side of my nose. “You cool with that?”

She rolls her eyes. “I wish you’d stop asking me that. I agreed to this farce, didn’t I?”

My shoulders sag. Farce. She’s right. That’s what this is. That kiss that made me feel so alive was just her playing along.

“Right.” I stand and shoulder my bag.

She frowns. “You seem mad?”

I shake my head. “Just annoyed with Jackson, but that’s why we’re doing this whole thing, so I guess there’s no point in being irritated.”

Her frown deepens.

I reach out, unable to help myself as I wrap a piece of her around my finger. I try to pull upon some of my previous cocky arrogance. “I’m going to need more of those good luck kisses for every match from now on. I played like a fucking champion out there.”

Her eyes are light with amusement, so at least I’m not pissing her off. “I might be able to manage that.”

Treacherous hope leaps into my throat.

Maybe I’m not the only one forgetting this whole thing is fake.