Rolling past Stadium Court, Endy spied Sebastian with a smaller figure holding a tennis racquet. A chubby smaller figure.
Endy drove the cart closer and got out just as the boy turned so she could see his face. Baffled, Endy called out to Sebastian as he jogged across the court toward her. “Hey, are you teaching tennis to Paco?”
“Yeah, isn’t it great? Remember that time I subbed in and played pickleball with the kids? Well, I noticed how natural Paco was with a paddle and just knew he’d be the same with a racquet. So I had him put my number in his phone and told him that I’d teach him for free.”
“But … tennis?” replied Endy. “Not pickleball?”
“Yeah, the new junior academy said they’d offer Paco a scholarship for next year.”
“Wait, what? Kids in the tennis academy have to pay?” sputtered Endy.
“Of course. It’s not pickleball where anyone can just do it. They’re so different. Tennis takes tons more time and skill,” Sebastian replied. He reached his hand out to Endy. “Hey, did you get my text?”
Endy put her hand to her forehead. “Sorry! I got it, but then Joel asked me about his next lesson, and then one of the club members needed a bag of ice, and then … and then I forgot to reply.”
“It’s okay,” Sebastian said, rubbing his chin. “So what do you think? Do you want to hang out after you get off work?”
“I can’t.” Endy’s lips pulled into a pout. “I have Picklers.”
“How about afterward? We could go grab—”
“As much as I’d love to, I just have so much to do today,” Endy said. “Can we take a rain check? Maybe this weekend?”
“Yeah, maybe,” replied Sebastian, reaching out for Endy’s hand again. “My friends who are visiting were thinking about going up to Joshua Tree for the weekend. Can I let you know if I’m in town?”
“For sure,” agreed Endy with a small smile. She wondered if Sloane was included in the group of friends that Sebastian would be with at Joshua Tree.
“Hey, loser,” shouted Paco from the baseline. “Are you gonna waste my time making googly eyes at Endy, or are we gonna play?”
Sebastian chuckled, finally grasping Endy’s hand.
His thumb caressed her palm. “Stop back in an hour when I’m done so I can make googly eyes at you without an audience.
” He leaned over and lightly kissed Endy.
When he noticed her shiver, Sebastian pulled her closer, flashed her a sexy smile, and covered her mouth with his in a hot, hungry kiss. “An hour, okay?”
“Alright, loser.” She smiled, fanning at her face with an open palm. “Do you think maybe when I come back in an hour, I can get more of those?”
Sebastian chuckled, reached out his hand, and tugged twice on her ponytail. “Always more of those for you—anytime, anywhere.”
Endy drove the golf cart to the far end of the racquet club property.
She stopped on top of a low mound and gazed over the lush green lawn of the championship golf course, watching the palm trees swaying in the desert breeze.
Her lips still tingled from Sebastian’s kiss, and she thought back to the first time they’d kissed, over on the grass tennis courts.
In the days since, they’d become closer, and it seemed to Endy that she was in a kind of dream world.
She wondered how she could’ve possibly caught the eye of someone like Sebastian.
Paul Rothman had assured her it was because of her compassion and warmth, but Endy knew those qualities couldn’t necessarily compete against things like beauty and success.
From the very top of a palm, a frond detached. Caught by the warm draft, it traveled on the wind, dipping and twisting away, before dropping and getting tangled in the bougainvillea bush below.
Endy took a deep breath and thought about Sebastian going to Joshua Tree with his friends … and likely with Sloane. What if Sebastian were the same as that frond, just breezing into, then just as easily out of, Endy’s life?
She had fallen hard for Sebastian, more than she wanted to admit. She couldn’t help herself. He was so handsome, funny, and incredibly kind. Endy smiled to herself. He was so unlike anyone she’d ever been with, especially Bennett.
But just like with Bennett, an ex-girlfriend had resurfaced. An ex-girlfriend who was beautiful and successful. And very different from Endy.
Sebastian had said that pickleball and tennis were really different. If that were true, it was crystal clear to Endy that she was pickleball, Sebastian was tennis … and so was Sloane.
Sloane. Sloane. Sloane. It seemed that every which way she turned, Endy encountered that girl in her flawless flawlessness.
Beautiful Sloane coming out of Daniel York’s office as Endy was going in.
Stunning Sloane running on the treadmill, probably on her fiftieth mile, as Endy walked past the gym.
Exquisite Sloane playing tennis every single day on Stadium Court with Sebastian as Endy worked inside, supervising the folding of T-shirts and blending of smoothies.
Sure, Endy knew that Sebastian played tennis every day—sometimes singles, sometimes doubles with Collin or even Joel.
But ever since Sloane arrived, Sebastian had taken to playing mixed doubles, and Sloane was always his partner. Couldn’t they switch partners even just once in a while? After all, there was no hard-and-fast rule that said they couldn’t.
But Sloane made her own rules when it came to her and Sebastian, even going as far as making sure they wore matching colored tennis outfits whenever they played a more competitive team.
Sloane had breezed into Whisper Hills with her junior tennis academy perfectly planned, just when Endy was struggling with her plan for Picklers Youth League.
Then Sloane had roped Sebastian back into spending every day with her.
And finally, she had beguiled Barbara Tennyson into being her biggest supporter, this influential club member who had reduced Endy to an afterthought.
Endy not only felt sick to her stomach, she also felt outsmarted.
“Well played, Sloane,” whispered Endy to herself, as another palm frond dropped to the ground.
Endy checked the time on her phone. An hour had passed, and she’d done all her inspections.
She pointed the golf cart in the direction of Stadium Court, looking forward to spending a couple more minutes with Sebastian.
Her tongue peeked out and licked at her lips, and she tried to ignore the butterflies flitting around in her tummy when she thought of being near him.
She heard a peal of laughter as she got closer to the tennis court. Paco stood across the net from Sloane, rhythmically hitting a tennis ball back and forth.
Sloane, again. Endy felt her shoulders tense and a frown pulled at her lips.
“Hey, lady, you’re a lot prettier than that loser,” Paco called out to Sloane, jerking his head at Sebastian. “If you ever get tired of him, hit me up.”
Sebastian laughed, then tossed a tennis ball at Paco. It bounced off his feet and rolled off the court in Endy’s direction.
“You came back,” Sebastian said with a wide smile as he jogged to the golf cart. Before climbing in next to Endy, he picked up a bright green plastic pickleball and a felted green tennis ball from the seat and held both in his massive hand.
Endy studied the balls and then said in a low voice, “You need to choose.”
“Sorry?” asked Sebastian as he lowered himself into the passenger seat. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, you need to choose,” said Endy. She shifted in her seat. “You need to decide which one you’re going to teach Paco.”
Sebastian looked taken aback. “Choose? Why do I need to choose? Why can’t I do both?”
Endy chewed at her lip. Why? Because she needed Sebastian to get used to the idea of having to pick which he wanted more. Pickleball or tennis. Paddle or racquet. Her or Sloane.
And when it came time for him to make that decision, Endy needed him to choose her.
She reached out and took the balls from Sebastian. Her hand much smaller than his, the fuzzy green tennis ball rolled from her fingers, dropped to the floor, and bounced under the golf cart.
“Why? Because there’s only room for one,” she said softly, closing her fingers around the remaining green plastic pickleball.
Table of Contents
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- Page 28 (Reading here)
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