Tears sprang to Luke’s eyes, unbidden. He watched officials set up for the awards ceremony as he walked around the court, waving to fans. He beckoned for Nik and his mom to come down and met them at the bottom of the stands. He hugged his mother first, and then Nik, slapping his back broadly.
He paused on a shot of them together, smiling as they looked into each other’s eyes. Sometimes Luke couldn’t believe no one had ever figured it out. He watched their carefree faces, frozen in time.
Later that night, they’d gone back to Luke’s hotel room and made love until the early hours of the morning. Luke closed his eyes as he remembered the taste of Nik’s mouth, the sensation of being inside him, the two of them lost in their own world.
He turned off the TV before finishing the rest of the recording. Instead, he stayed afloat on his memories.
Mike dug out a backhand winner that flew just inches past Luke’s racquet. “That’s another point for me,” Mike called out, grinning.
“I thought we weren’t keeping score.”
“Ha! We’re always keeping score, even when we say we aren’t.” Mike ran a hand over his hair and adjusted the sweatband on his wrist.
Luke served the ball and they smacked it back and forth across the net. Mike was right—Luke always knew exactly how many shots he had missed, how many unforced errors were costing him points that would be valuable in a match. He could calculate his first-serve percentage in his head, didn’t need the TV commentators to tell him when it was dropping low.
After he dumped a forehand into the net, Luke stopped to grab some water. “Not my day today.”
“Everything okay? You seem distracted.”
Luke sighed. He had already heard enough from Aaron; he didn’t need Mike chiming in. Not that Mike would be happy about Luke meeting a guy. Aaron was the only one who knew his secret, but he was gay, too. Luke wasn’t sure if Mike would be so understanding.
“Sure, everything’s fine.”
“If you say so.”
“I just saw some bit on TV last night about Alex and her new husband. I don’t know, I guess I care more than I thought.” Luke shrugged. The lies rolled off his tongue easily—had for years.
“Yeah, I understand. Hey, just pretend the ball is him.” Mike laughed.
Luke tossed up a ball and served it at well over a hundred miles an hour. “Works like a charm,” he said with a grin.
They both laughed and played on. After the rally ended, Mike asked, “Your next tourney is Indian Wells, right? I was thinking of playing Dubai first. Big money prize and all.”
“Yeah, but the flight there’s pretty pricey.” Luke knew Mike wasn’t rolling in it, and he hadn’t had a great year so far.
“There’s the rub. Do I take the chance on winning a bigger prize for my second- or third-round defeat, or just stay home and save money on the flight?”
“You never know, you could win the whole damn thing.”
Mike snorted. “Right, like that’s going to happen.”
“Way to think positively. Should I call the sports psychologist?”
“Maybe you should. For you.”
“Huh?”
“I said, maybe you should, for you.”
Luke tossed a ball sharply into the air, catching it easily in his palm. “I don’t need a shrink.”
“You’ve still got what it takes to win the big ones. Your serve is a big bomb, your groundstrokes are as strong as ever, and you’re as fit as you were the day you started the tour, save for some wear and tear. But your head’s not in it the way it used to be.”
“My head’s fine. I do everything the shrinks say to do: I picture myself winning; I think positively; I focus on each point as it comes. But sometimes you just don’t win. That’s the way it goes.”
“Maybe you should get a coach again.”
“There’s nothing a new coach can tell me that I don’t already know.”
Mike sighed. “Nikolai was a great guy, and a terrific coach. But you never know, someone new could teach you a thing or two.”
Luke was flooded with memories and tossed the ball up again as he tried to shake them off. Aaron’s words from the beach echoed in his mind. He knew it wouldn’t bring Nik back. None of it would—stubbornly refusing to hire a new coach, or pushing away the first person who had dared to get close to him.
He thought of the look on Jesse’s face after their kiss. Guilt and longing and anger converged, and Luke felt like screaming. He served a ball instead, smoking it down the center of the court. Mike watched it go by, and then served back his own ball, which they whacked back and forth.
Discussion over.
Luke managed to hold out two more days before returning to Brookview. Amber was on the phone and he gave a wave and a wink as he breezed past. He heard her call his name but pretended not to. He wasn’t in the mood for flirting. Well, at least not with her.