My chest tightened at the way she said it so casually. I tilted my head, voice soft but teasing. “Is this your usual routine with everyone, or am I just the lucky one?”
Her grin turned sly. “Only for the truly special ones.”
I let out a quiet laugh, resting my chin on my hand. “Special ones, huh? Should I be flattered or worried?”
She studied me with infuriating amusement, her tone light but edged with something else. “Definitely flattered. Worrying ruins the fun.”
The comment made my pulse quicken, though I tried to play it cool. “If that’s your secret weapon, maybe I should show you mine, my charm. It’s been known to be dangerously effective.”
Her eyes lit up, curious, almost challenging. “Should I be excited?”
I brushed a lock of hair back, lips curving. “Can you handle a little risk?”
“I like living on the edge.” Her smile came slowly and deliberately.
For a moment, it felt like the whole café faded away. Her smile wasn’t just playful; it carried the weight of a dare.
I cleared my throat lightly. “My charm has distracted even the best players.”
She chuckled, though her eyes stayed locked on mine. “Lucky for you, I’m not one of the best players. So I guess I’m immune.” She paused, then added softly, “But... I’ll take my chances.”
Heat rose in me, impossible to hide. My breath hitched before I could stop it, though outwardly I kept my face calm. I forced myself to steady.It’s just banter,I reminded myself. We’d only just started finding this rhythm, testing each other’s edges. Nothing serious. At least, that’s what I tried to believe, even if my heart wasn’t exactly playing along.
So I shifted gears, picking up my fork with a deliberately light grin. “Anyway, this salad is actually pretty great. You were right, this one’s a winner.”
A teasing smile tugged at her lips. “Of course it is. I told you to trust me. I take my food choices and my company very seriously.”
After that, we lingered a little longer, trading thoughts about the foods and lattes, debating what made the perfect lunch or the smoothest espresso shot. The conversation wasn’t about tennis or pressure or expectations, just food, small jokes, and the kind of easy banter that slipped into place without effort. It felt… ordinary in the best way, like discovering a quiet rhythm in the middle of all the chaos.
Eventually, Alex glanced at her watch and let out a soft sigh. “As much as I’d love to stay, my coach would kill me if I missed training. Seriously, he’s not the forgiving type.”
I nodded, understanding all too well the pull of routine and preparation. “Of course. Thanks for making the time, Alex. This was… really nice. Maybe we should do it again sometime.”
Her smile warmed, lingering just a beat longer than casual. “Yeah, it was. And maybe next time, we ditch the whole bet thing.”
I laughed under my breath, feeling a spark catch somewhere I wasn’t ready to name. “Deal.”
We gathered our things and stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the city humming gently around us. Maddie was waiting by our car just down the street, arms crossed with that teasing grin she always wore when she thought she’d already pieced together a secret. Honestly, she probably did.
Alex’s car was parked neatly at the curb, every inch aligned perfectly with the sidewalk.She definitely knows how to park,I thought, the familiar flutter of admiration sneaking in. A detail like that felt so…her.
CHAPTER 14
OLIVIA
The New York skyline stretched out beyond my hotel window. We’d only just settled into the city, bags unpacked, routines reloaded, body clock readjusting. The US Open is here, and Coach Dani had me on a strict conditioning plan to make sure I peaked at the right time. But here I am, my eyes locked on the flatscreen across the room.
Alex’s Cincinnati Open final was about to start, the broadcast cutting between shots of the crowd and the players’ entrance, waiting for them to emerge.
It still didn’t feel real. A month ago, people were debating if she even had a comeback in her. Now? She was the story of the tournament. Every highlight, every headline, every breathless commentator painting her as tennis’s resurrection arc.
I was sprawled on the couch with Maddie and Claire, legs tucked under me, still a little sore from my own training earlier.
Maddie’s voice piped up, far too casual to be innocent. “You do know the internet basically lost its mind over your little lunch date with Alex, right?”
I shot her a look. She tossed her phone onto me, the screen already lit up with a compilation of posts. “Yeah.Pap shots, fan snaps, take your pick. And you know what the internet does best.”
I leaned closer. Tweets and edits whirred past:Cadiz and Smythe spotted laughing over lunch in Cincy.Comments underneath split between playful friend-shipping and not-so-subtle romantic hints.
