I stepped past him and tried not to inhale, because he alwayssmelled more Oweny first thing in the morning, when his hair was still a little damp from the shower. He’d taken to leaving his hat off during our lessons, which to me felt like the equivalent of seeing a priest without his collar.
Owen shrugged. “You just look stressed. Anything I should know about before we get started?”
It had become his go-to question at the beginning of our sessions, to quickly find out if I had any aches or pains, but this time it felt like he was psychic and prying for proof of his abilities, as if heknewsomething had gone down with Kai a few minutes prior.
I followed behind him, resigned to keep Kai’s name off my lips. “Nope, all good.” The squeaky echoes of our footsteps filled the silence. “Unless there’s anything else we should talk about... from the weekend.”
“Nothing more to say,” he said quickly without turning to look at me.
It was true; he’d made his feelings about the kiss clear.
He walked Marti back to his office while I waited in the lobby, just like every other session. But this one felt like there was a haze of smoke around us, clouding my vision and making it a little heard to breathe.
Iwas responsible for the bad vibes. We were in an awkward hinterland because I was complicated and needy, and I’d somehow telegraphed my attraction to Owen while spouting off about how badly I needed Kai.
Yeah, I’d fucked up.
Owen came out of the office with his eyes glued to the ground, like he was checking just how clean the deep clean had made the floor. We headed for our court without discussingour goals for the session, which was odd because Owen was all about hitting benchmarks. I almost felt like I was being punished for the kiss thatheinitiated.
And I’d wanted.
He stalked to his side of the court, spinning his paddle in his hand. “Sign-ups for the tournament just opened. We’re going to take care of that this morning before you leave.”
My heart lurched at the “we.” Despite his frustration, he was still looking out for me.
“Okay, thanks.” I welcomed more time together to try to find the old Owen.
“Shit,” he said as he slapped his paddle against his thigh. “Hold on, I forgot something.”
I kept busy stretching and stressing as he walked away.
Owen ambled back to me a few minutes later like we had all the time in the world. I peeked at him while I balanced on one leg to stretch my right quad but couldn’t see what he’d gone back to fetch. I switched legs and turned a little, so it wouldn’t look like I was staring at him.
“I got this for you.”
I refocused on Owen as he pulled a second hidden paddle from behind the one he was holding and handed it to me. Compared to my cheerful pink-lemonade paddle, the sleek blackness he was offering me looked like a weapon.
My mouth dropped open as I took it from him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I couldn’t have you repping CPA at the tournament with that shitty paddle of yours. You need to get used to playing with it over the next couple of weeks.”
I bit the inside of my cheek because I felt my eyes welling up at the unexpected gift. How long ago had he bought it? Given our crap current scenario, he could’ve skipped giving itto me and kept it or returned it. Despite everything we’d been through, he still wanted to help me win.
I sensed the difference in the paddle the second I curled my palm around the handle. The ergonomic grip felt like it was bespoke. The paddle was black on black, with a shaded repeating box pattern on the hitting surface. It was serious, elegant, and 100 percent Owen.
“This feels expensive,” I said, giving it a few test swings through the air.
I didn’t mean to be funny, but it got a chuckle out of him. “You’re right—it is. But I get a pro discount, so don’t worry about it.”
I didn’t think I could feel any worse about everything, but the unexpected gift proved me wrong.
“Owen, thank you.” I stared at him and hoped my eyes weren’t too misty, because it felt silly getting choked up over a pickleball paddle. “You’re setting me up to be unstoppable.”
He shook his head, the dark waves dancing at the back of his neck. “It’s a tool, Brooke. It’s all about how the operator uses it. Let’s get out there and give it a try. Paddles are a personal decision, but I know how you play. I’m pretty sure you’re going to like it. And I bet your backspin is going to shape up, big-time.”
I hypergripped the paddle, just like the old days, because I needed to feel some sort of anchor.
“Today we’re focusing on reset shots,” he said as he fished a ball out of his pocket and retreated to his side of the court. “Newbies usually get worked up during their first competition, and this strategy is an easy way to take a breath. It’ll help to neutralize the other team’s aggressive shots.”
