“Would it matter if I was? Sleeping with him?”
Luke was on his way to possibly winning his fifth Grand Slam and the coveted U.S. Open title that had barely eluded him years before. Jesse’s question tumbled over and over in his mind.
Nothing seemed to matter quite as much.
Luke blinked into the lights high above the court and wiped his forehead on his sleeve as the crowd hooted and hollered and cheered him on loudly. The U.S. Open was the only Slam with night matches, and the New Yorkers who came down after work to watch were one of a kind.
The air was thick with humidity, and Luke’s skin was slick and flushed. He’d only been playing for twenty minutes and he already wanted a shower. His road to the semis had been easy after beating Jesse. He hadn’t dropped a set since, and with the break of his opponent Riel’s serve, he was on his way to taking the first set of the match.
After a sleepless night, he’d managed to channel all his need and desire and longing for Jesse into his game. The thought of Jesse with anyone else was unacceptable, and the only thing Luke could focus on was the ball, the court, the chalk lines that made up the sum of his world until he played his last point.
He bounced the ball twice before tossing it up into the air and slamming it over the net. Most players had their routines and Luke was no different. Two bounces and then up. No more, no less.
Riel got his racquet on the ball, but it bounced harmlessly out of bounds. Luke felt like he was untouchable, like there was nothing Riel could possibly do to beat him. Koehler was through in the other men’s semi, and Luke was on a mission to take him down in the final.
He motioned for a ball. Two bounces. Over the net. Riel barely even saw it as it zoomed by, just catching the outside line of the service box. The crowd roared, and Luke smiled to himself as he returned to his chair, another game closer to his goal.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Standing in the tunnel that led to the court, Luke readjusted the bag on his shoulder and waited. The television crew was in front of the players, waiting to film their entrance onto Arthur Ashe Stadium. Seating twenty-three thousand, it was the biggest tennis venue in the world and the din of the crowd above pumped adrenaline through Luke’s veins.
Beside him, Stein Koehler waited, his expression impassive, calm. He had smiled icily in the locker room and Luke had smiled back. They both knew that this wasn’t just about winning a Slam.
This was personal.
An official waved them forward and the players walked out onto the court to the sound of thunderous applause. The late-afternoon sun was still high in the sky, and Luke couldn’t see a single cloud. No breeze wafted by, and he already felt sweat on the back of his neck. Although he wasn’t sure if that was due to the heat or nerves.
Luke sat in his chair and unpacked his equipment. He’d tried to plan the day perfectly—practicing a bit with Mike in the morning to stay loose, eating at the right time to give him energy but not fill him up. It was a delicate balance.
Mike had been eliminated in the third round but had stayed on at Luke’s request. Luke footed the hotel bill, knowing that Mike couldn’t afford to stay in New York City for an extra week when his daughter needed new braces.
The night before, Arnie phoned and wished Luke well, telling him that if he took the title, there were two new endorsement opportunities in the works. Good old Arnie, always with his eye on the prize.
Stephanie flew in the day before, greeting Luke at the hotel with a hug that lasted a long time. He’d grown taller than his mother when he was only thirteen, and Luke had to stoop to hug her properly. However, he didn’t complain. Aaron arrived with her, and Luke was grateful to have another friend around.
Dinner with his mother, Aaron, and Mike had been quiet, and no one had brought up Jesse, for which Luke was grateful. He knew Jesse had only made it to the quarters in the doubles and had probably headed home days ago. Luke tried not to miss him desperately.
He didn’t succeed.
As the crowd buzzed, Koehler took his side of the court and Luke took his time moving to the baseline. They warmed up, hitting the ball back and forth lightly. On one backhand, Koehler smacked it hard, and Luke returned the favor. A murmur rippled through the fans and a smile tugged at Luke’s lips. It was going to be one hell of a match.
Luke was certainly right, since almost four hours later, the match was still going. After Koehler took the first set, Luke had won the second and third, only to have Koehler win the fourth. They stayed neck and neck in the final fifth set and went to a tiebreaker. As Luke wiped the sweat off his brow and stretched his left hamstring gently, he was thankful that one way or the other, the match would be decided soon.