Love Match (Love Match 1)
A crack of lightning brightened the sky and a huge clap of thunder followed moments later. “Jesse, come on!” Luke pulled his arm, urging him forwards.
Jesse yanked his arm away. “I’m fine, it’s just a little rain.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We just lost, in case you haven’t noticed!” Jesse angrily wiped rain from his face.
“So what?”
“Yeah, easy for you to say.”
“What?” There was another strike of lightning. “This is ridiculous. Let’s get inside.”
“I said, go!”
“What is your problem?”
“My problem is that I lost in straight fucking sets in singles, and I just lost again.” He threw his racquet into his bag. “It’s frustrating, okay? You wouldn’t understand.”
“And why the hell not? You think I’ve never lost a match before?”
“Yeah, but you’ve won four Slams, Luke. I’m never going to get there if I keep playing like this.” Thunder sounded ominously and the rain intensified.
“You’ll get there. You will. But right now, let’s get the hell inside before this thunderstorm turns into a hurricane.”
“Fine.” Jesse snatched up his bag, and they both hurried inside. Due to the rain, the locker room was crowded and they couldn’t talk privately. They tried not to be seen too much together in public, afraid that their closeness would soon become apparent. On the court they made an effort to only slap hands on big points. Couples often unconsciously gave themselves away when the normal barriers of personal space were eroded by intimacy.
The last thing Luke needed was someone figuring out their secret.
Jesse seemed to take a long time changing out of his wet clothing, and Luke tapped his foot with impatience. When Jesse was ready, they walked quietly through the building towards the cars, with drivers ready to take them to the destination of their choice. The tournament provided courtesy transportation to and from the matches for the players, but Luke almost wished they didn’t. He wanted to comfort Jesse, but he couldn’t do that if they left in separate cars.
“I think I’m just going to go back to my room for a while,” Jesse said.
“So now you’re mad at me?”
“No, I’m mad at myself. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”
“It’s okay, I understand.”
A tournament worker saw them coming and she approached them in the lobby with a professional smile. “I’ll call for two cars right away, but I’m afraid it may take a few minutes due to the weather.”
“That’s okay; we’re staying at the same hotel. We can share a car,” Luke replied. It wasn’t much, but at least they could ride back to the hotel together.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
He smiled and said, “Of course not,” while Jesse nodded absently. The woman scurried off to make the call.
Jesse headed outside, stopping under the large awning outside the door. Luke joined him and they watched the rain in silence.
Finally Jesse said, “I just want to be alone for a few hours, okay?”
“Sure.” Luke shrugged.
“It’s not you.”
Luke barked out a laugh. “That sounds familiar.”
“Yeah, well, I mean it. I just need to be depressed for a while.”
“Jesse, come on.”
“Please, just let me be. I’m frustrated with myself. And I don’t want to take it out on you.”
Luke nodded as a car pulled up. They slid into the roomy back seat after stowing their tennis bags in the trunk. The driver headed for their hotel, windshield wipers beating furiously against the rain. Luke was relieved when the man flipped on a radio station, cutting the thick silence. Tinny bubble-gum pop came out of the speakers, a young girl singing about how love had done her wrong.
Luke made sure that the driver was focused on the road—which he was, due to the torrential rain—and inched his hand across the leather seat under the cover of the Top Spin jacket he had tossed down. Jesse’s fingers were cold and Luke squeezed, his palm warm on the back of Jesse’s hand.
A sigh escaped Jesse’s lips and he turned his hand over, threading their fingers together. They didn’t look at each other, but held on tightly as they moved over the rain-soaked streets.
CHAPTER TEN
“Ugh. I’m going to be doing laundry all night.” Jesse peeled his red-stained shirt over his head. The clay courts were murder on crisp tennis whites and one tumble onto the court lunging after a ball had covered Jesse’s clothes in the thick red dust.
“No, the hotel staff will be doing laundry all night. That’s what they get paid for.” Luke lounged on Jesse’s bed, flipping through a magazine.
“You may be able to afford to have everything done for you, but some of us aren’t superstars, you know.”
Luke frowned up at Jesse. “Are you having trouble with money?”
“No, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Jesse finished stripping and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
Tossing the magazine aside, Luke followed. He leaned against the counter and watched Jesse through the sliding glass shower doors. “Look, the only reason we’re getting two rooms is for appearances, so why don’t I just pay for both of them. We stay together anyway.”