My nerves set in as Megan raises her hand to get everyone’s attention. What was I thinking, believing I could pick up a sport in a week and a half?
Breathe.You wore the cute skort.The goal was never to be the best, just not to be laughable.
When nobody stops talking, Megan whistles and calls, “Alright, team!” Ten heads swivel. “Welcome to week one of Friday Night Pickle,” she chirps. “We’ll keep it fun and fair.” She points with a paddle. “We’ll rotate partners every game so we can all get to know each other’s style. No two fresh beginners on the same team, and court one will be the winners court. You win, you stay. You lose, you hop to the next court down.”
Winners court. Okay, that makes me want to barf.
Megan continues, “If you’re newer, start on courts two and three. If you’re feeling spicy, try court one. If you don’t know a rule, ask! We’re here to have fun.” She seems to finish, then remembers, “Oh! And first drink is on Pixel and Paper!”
The group cheers at that.
Garrett calls out, “Also, you may have noticed our odd number. I invited a friend to make us an even twelve. He should be here any minute, so start your warmups and we’ll be good.”
“Damn. I was hoping I’d get to sit for a game.” Sam folds her arms in front of her.
I put an arm over her shoulders. “You’re the best for being here.”
“You’re booked for Oktoberfest.”
I snort.
“Hey, now we know Garrett has friends.”
She gives me a look. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“Just sayin.’ Seems like a green flag.”
Sam laughs as we walk toward the courts. We hover like twin satellites waiting for some group’s gravity to pull us in as pairs begin to form around us. I avoid looking Garrett’s direction. Don’t want to make it too obvious, plus it’s probably better if I play my first game with someone else.
“I guess we should split. Two newbs.” Sam glances toward court three.
“Probably.” I don’t like it but she’s right. I drift toward court two and see Garrett jog through the gate. He runs past me and slows at the front, greeting someone who?—
Oh. My. Hell.
Is that?—?
Sam calls my name, and I turn to see her nod toward the entrance. I mouth, “I know!” then turn back to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me.
Nope. It’s him, alright.
Calder walks past the front desk with Garrett. He’s in a dark T-shirt and shorts, his paddle bag slung across his back. Garrett says something, and he huffs a laugh. It’s only a small smile, but the sight of it tightens a knot in my chest.He looks like a normal guy.Yes, still a bit serious, but not nearly as buttoned up as he was at Smash Point. Was he like that because of his job? Or was he in a pissy mood because of me?
He scans the room, cataloging people, courts. When his eyes land on me, they widen. He blinks, then drops his gaze and hangs his bag on the fence.
This is Murphy’s Law. Absolutely impossible. There are a million people in this city, andhe’sthe friend Garrett invited to play pickleball tonight?
Sam is suddenly next to me. “He knows Garrett?”
“Apparently.” I already filled her in on my lesson withnotFrank.
Megan leaves her court and runs up to greet Calder with a hug. He stands there and takes it, doesn’t even lift his arms, then nods and says something I can’t make out from here. Not sure what to make of that, but I don’t have time to speculate because I’m already freaking out.
They must know each other from Smash Point. Or did Megan know him before she started playing there? Were they?—?
“Are they together?” Sam asks
That thought should’ve sent my body through the roof with excitement. If Megan was with Calder and Garrett was Calder’s friend, then he wouldn’t be trying to sleep with her. Unless he was a complete asshole. I guess it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility, but he didn’t seem that type to me.
