“But you took meds this morning—you shouldn’t haveany pain at all,” Penny said, but as the words flew from her mouth, she knew they were the wrong ones. Dom’s eyes widened.
“You’re on pain medication?” he asked. “You told me that knee was fine.”
“It is fine,” Alex snapped. “I wouldn’t even call it pain, like I said, just a twinge now and again.”
“Bullshit. Go get it looked at in the trainers’ room and we’re going to get an MRI done before you leave for London.”
“If I say I’m fine, I’m fine, Dom,” Alex said. “I’m not one of your students. I don’t jump when you snap your fingers.”
“Alex, maybe you should get it looked at,” Penny said, her brow furrowing as she studied his knee, like she could see what was wrong with it from the outside.
“Don’t be bullheaded about this, Al. We’re just asking you to have it checked,” Dom said, his tone softening.
Alex wasn’t having any of it. “And I’m asking you to trust me, but apparently there isn’t a lot of that around here.”
He said the words to Dom, but Penny felt them deep in her chest, and as she watched him walk off the court, his stride confident and steady—no hint of a limp at all—she knew they were meant for her.
JASMINE TIPTOED DOWN THE STAIRS, GLIDED ACROSS THEtiled kitchen floor, then slid through the French doors at the back of the house. She held her breath as she braced the door against her palm, letting it shut with a softclick. Sighing in relief, she sprinted across the patio and down the wooden walkway that led to the beach. She felt like a criminal escaping after a heist, her heart pounding as she started down the beach toward OBX.
Her parents had found out about the fight. It was easier when she was a kid—they would have punished her. Now, she felt the suffocating weight of their clear disappointment in her, not as a tennis player, but as a person. She could barely look either of them in the eye and couldn’t wait to get back to training.
The fastest way to get to OBX in the morning was to cross the private beaches that sat between the house andthe training center. She could avoid the crush of cars in the parking lot, the dozens of younger athletes who would want her attention—oh, who was she kidding? She snuck out of the house to avoid her parents and was sneaking into OBX to avoid the stares and gossip.
Nowhere was safe anymore.
The usually bustling locker room was empty, no voices echoing off the tiled floor and walls. The fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling flickered to life as she made her way to her locker, hoping to dress and grab her equipment long before anyone else arrived. As she pulled her hair into a ponytail and clipped back her bangs, her luck ran out.
“I wonder if she’ll even show her face.” Lara Cronin’s voice echoed through the room, dripping with ill-concealed glee.
A laugh, high-pitched, bordering on the edge of a screech, responded. That was Addison. “I know. I mean,everyonesaw what happened.”
The girls giggled together.
“Really, though, how pathetic can you get?”
“Please, she’s so overrated. The only reason Dom lets her train here is because of her parents.”
Jasmine slammed her locker shut and stepped into the main walkway. The same girls who’d made Indy’s life miserable when she first arrived stared in shock, then small, cruel smiles slipped over their features. Spinning on her heel, Jasmine didn’t give them the satisfaction of eye contact even as she heard one of them say, “Oh my God” before they dissolved into uncontrolled cackles.
That was what Indy had felt like those first days, witheveryone against her. It must have been awful, and Jasmine could have put a stop to it, but she didn’t, just like Teddy said. A knot of regret twisted in her stomach. Exhaling a harsh breath, she adjusted her bag over her shoulder and marched toward the courts. Those girls didn’t matter, and she could only hope that the people who did would forgive her.
First, she had to talk to Dom. She had to set things right with him. He was her coach, but while she lay in bed the day before, avoiding her parents, she realized something else. He was right about her game. He knew her strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. And if she wanted to have the career she’d always dreamed of, he was the person who could get her there. She needed to suck it up, be an adult, and apologize, then prove to everyone that she was more than just a nepo baby who got by on her parents’ rep and the access to elite training their money paid for.
Jasmine mumbled to herself. “Dom, I’m so sorry. What I did was awful and I’m grateful you’re giving me a second chance.” That sounded about right. She nodded and pushed through the gate, catching sight of her coach setting up the ball machine.
“Dom,” she began, but her voice caught when she saw Indy dumping a basket of balls into the machine’s feeder. Their first private doubles practice was scheduled for eight and it was still a quarter to the hour. Why was she here already?
“Jasmine,” Dom said, waving her in, “welcome back.”
His words said one thing, but his eyes, trained on her like a hawk, said another. He only meant “welcome back”if what had happened over the weekend would never happen again. She tried to assure him it wouldn’t, but he cut her off.
“Warm up, then we can get started.”
She nodded and began her stretching routine. She would apologize the first chance she got, probably after he got whatever training torture he had in mind out of his system.
She and Indy stretched together. Jasmine kept her eyes glued to the fence at the end of the court but felt Indy watching her. Her stomach twisted again, like in the locker room, only worse. She still couldn’t stand the bitch, but a sharp sliver of empathy cut against her conscience.
“Ladies, are you ready?” Dom called, striding toward them. They stood and Jasmine glanced quickly at Indy, but she was looking at their coach now. “Today we’re going to start with some light conditioning.” There was something in his voice that drew Jasmine’s attention. She turned to him and saw a sadistic glint in his eyes. He nodded at the doubles line. “Einsteins.”
