Crossing the Line(30)

And I had no idea what the fuck was going on.

When I played tennis, especially big matches, I channeled my anger. Focused it. Used it. It had become a familiar friend over the years, one that never let me down.

Not today. Today I was a guy floating across the court playing like an automaton after an incredible night in Mia's arms.

Who knew I didn't have to be angry to play well?

And that was another thing. Telling Mia the truth, unburdening myself about my past, made me feel lighter than I had in years. I'd never told another living soul all that stuff, not the shrink I’d briefly seen after Mum died, not even the sports psychologist at the academy. Hell, I didn't trust anyone—apart from Dad, and even with him I was still wary—enough to reveal my feelings like that.

But having Mia come after me, having her fight for something she wanted when I was too chicken-shit to do it, made me realize I could spend a lifetime pushing away the good and embracing the bad. I could continue to be resentful of everything and everyone, or I could have a real crack at living.

Living outside of tennis, which I was fast recognizing as my emotional crutch.

When things pissed me off, I headed for the court.

When I was swamped by the anger, I headed for the court.

When I couldn't deal, I headed for the court.

I could become a bigger, better version of myself when I was on the court.

And as I bounced on the balls of my feet on the baseline, waiting for my opponent to serve in what I hoped would be the final game, I hoped today was a turning point. That when I won this match, it would prove—to me—that I could channel positivity rather than anger to drive me to be the best.

As my opponent tucked a spare ball into his short's pocket, I risked a quick glance at the bleachers, where Mia sat next to Dani. Even at this distance, she glowed. Luminous. Making me want to wrap this up ASAP and find a place we could celebrate in private.

But with her dad on the sidelines, ready to give every academy player an evaluation at the conclusion of this tournament, I knew that would be out of the question until tonight.

Date night.

We'd planned it in the wee small hours of the morning, after we'd had sex three times, each more stupendous than the last. Looked like unburdening my soul had given my libido a kick in the arse too. Not that I'd ever had a problem in that department, especially with Mia. She was hot. Incredibly so and I wrenched my gaze away from her before I distracted my opponent with more than a killer return.

The next four points flew by. The guy from a top club in Orange County double-faulted twice, missed a lob and couldn't return a forehand winner that zipped past him at a speed that surprised both of us.

As I shook hands with my opponent, who stared at me through narrowed eyes, I resisted the urge to peek in Mia's direction again. This was another thing that was new: needing the approval of a woman to feel validated.

Mum had always been my biggest supporter in everything I did, and while it meant a lot it kinda didn't count when my loudest, proudest cheerleader was related. But having Mia's support meant a lot. And that's what she'd been since we first met: supportive.

Despite how I'd treated her, the many different ways in which I'd tried to push her away, she'd persisted. She hadn't given up on me, even when I was feeling pretty shitty after I'd first arrived and almost given up on myself.

"Good game, kid." Dirk approached as I reached the sidelines. "Real good."

"Thanks." I wiped the handle of my racket with a towel before sliding it into its cover. "Are we doing an analysis now or do I have time to shower?"

"Go grab a shower and we'll save yours 'til last."

"No worries." However, as I picked up my bag and Dirk hadn't budged, I braced. He hadn't spoken to me much since warning me off Mia, unless it was to criticize or instruct while I was on the practice courts. So the fact he was hanging around now? Made me suspicious.

"What's changed, Sheldon?"

Uh-oh. "What do you mean?"

Dirk jerked his head at the court. "The way you played out there today? A far cry from your shitty intra-academy hit-out. And I like to figure out what motivates my players so we can hone it, use it and repeat it."

I deliberately schooled my expression into an impassive mask. No way no how would Dirk want to know what had motivated me today, or how much I wanted to repeat it.

"Guess I'm settling in."

"And improving your attitude." Dirk tilted his head, studying me. "I liked what I saw out there today. A lot. Keep playing like that and you're destined for great things."

Before I could respond, he held up his finger. "And just so you know? I don't dish out praise lightly." He slapped me on the back. "Keep up the good work, kid, and you'll go places."