Page 4 of This Could be Love

“Today?”

“Well, I mean, thanks to the flight I’ve already lost a day, so…”

She tilted her head indecisively. “You’ve been on your feet forover twenty hours. It’d be a better idea to take it easy and get off to a flying start tomorrow.”

Even though I knew Kay was right, I couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy at the thought of spending the rest of the day doing nothing. The US Open was just a little over six weeks away, and there was still so much to do. My timing was off. My footwork wasn’t good enough, I was making too many unforced errors, and I was lacking match practice. If I wanted to keep up with the best in the world, I’d have to give it my all, seven days a week.

Kay seemed to sense my antsiness. “Listen. Why don’t you start off with an easy run down the beach? That will get your metabolism going and will help with your jet lag. This afternoon I will show you the tennis school, and you can get to know everyone. And tomorrow we’ll get going. How’s that sound?”

The pressure in my chest dissipated. I smiled and nodded.

* * *

Back in the guest room, I stripped off the clothes I’d worn on the flight and slipped into mint-colored running shorts and a white workout top. June in Germany had been sunny and hot, and I’d spent most of it out on the clay court. My hair was a shimmering honey color rather than its usual dark blond. After braiding it into a plait, I put on a cap and plenty of sunscreen.

Kay was on the phone when I came back downstairs. I caught words likedisturbanceandunacceptablebefore silently waving goodbye and sliding through the terrace door. Just then I realizedI hadn’t even followed up about her important appointment and wondered if it might have had to do with the call.

A garden gate led me to a narrow flight of stone steps that led down to the beach. The sand was white and fine grained. I walked to the water, past a family setting up folding chairs and anchoring a neon-yellow umbrella in the sand. Apart from them, there were few people around. Powerful waves rolled toward me as I approached the water. It was surprisingly warm, and it felt great to let it wash over my skin. My gaze wandered out to sea and a lone surfer waiting for a wave. As it came closer, he began to paddle, pushed himself up, and jumped to his feet. He rushed toward the beach in an impressively casual way, and I couldn’t help but envy him. That effortlessness was precisely what I was lacking out on the court. I was too tense, too uptight, too anxious. I could feel it deep down, and I could see it on my face when Milan and I analyzed the videos of my training sessions. Being here without him was strange. He’d been training me for years, but, thanks to the birth of his twins, had asked for a few months off. That, too, had helped me make the decision to come to Hawaii and train with Kay.

I looked away from the surfer, took a deep breath, and started to run. Close to the water the sand was firm, but I quickly felt my muscles working hard. After the first few hundred feet, my calves began to grow a little sore. Not to mention my struggles with the humidity and the tropical sun. Fighting shortness of breath, I glanced at my smartwatch and saw that my pulse was far too high. Out of habit, I reached for my water bottle before realizing Ihadn’t brought it with me.Shit!Why hadn’t I thought of putting on my hydration belt? I passed a watchtower and toyed with the idea of asking the lifeguard for water. But he was on the sand doing crunches.Great.I picked up the pace and jogged on. A few minutes later, I realized that I was about to overdo it. My muscles were over-acidifying, my throat was dry as dust, and my eyes were beginning to flicker dangerously. Checking my heart rate again, I turned around and made my way back past the lifeguard, who was once again in his tower looking out over the ocean with a pair of binoculars.You can manage this last bit too, I told myself and sped back up. From here it would be, at most, half a mile to Kay’s. I ran past a few kids playing around in the breakers and considered doing the same. Simply jumping into the coolness and dipping my head. But I just wiped the sweat off my forehead instead and kept on going. Not far from me, I spotted the surfer again, letting himself be carried to the beach by one last wave. His board under his arm, he climbed out of the water and shook his wet hair out of his face. He was wearing bright-red surf shorts that sat low on his hips, and even at a distance I could see how cute he was. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought I was in some beachwear commercial. I let out a half-amused, half-derisive sigh. As I jogged past, our eyes met. Just for a second, but long enough to realize that he was perfect for the role. And that it would be better for my already-overheated self to focus my eyes on my feet. My feet, which were sinking deeper into the sand with every step. As if they’d been hung with weights. How much farther was it? Wasn’tthat the neon-yellow umbrella up ahead? I squinted against the sun and fought off a feeling of dizziness. Black dots danced before my eyes.Oh no!I came to an abrupt stop, put my hands on my thighs, and lowered my head, breathing heavily.Okay.Let me stop a second… Just for a few seconds… Just…

Chapter 3

Opening my eyes, I saw a makeshift table of mats. A firepit of cold ashes. A canvas folding chair. At first I thought I was just confused; then my pulse began to race. This wasn’t Kay’s terrace. Sitting up, I felt a stabbing pain in my temples.

“Well, get moving! I’ve got to bounce in ten minutes. And I can’t just leave her here.”

The strange man’s voice not only replaced the pounding in my head but made sure I was wide-awake at the same time. Not ten feet away was a guy with a smartphone at his ear. Mid-twenties. Barefoot, khaki-colored shorts, and a white T-shirt that made him look incredibly tanned. His dark-blond hair was still wet and somewhat tousled, as if he’d run his hand through it right after showering.

“Oh, come on! She probably didn’t have enough to drink and ended up dehydrated.”

Not enough to drink.Then it all came back. I’d gone for a jog. On the beach. Hadn’t had my water with me. Then, as if on command, I became aware of my dry mouth and tried to clear my throat. The man’s head spun in my direction and our eyes locked. I stopped short. Not because of his good looks. And not because his eyes were of an incredible blue. But because he looked familiar. As if I’d seen him somewhere before. But where?

“Gotta go,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off me for a second. “She’s awake.”

He hung up and slipped the phone into one of his pockets.

“Hey!” he said with a smile that didn’t reveal whether he was thinking the same thing I was. That is, whether we’d met before or not.

“Hey.”

It came out scratchy, as my throat really was bone dry.

“Let me get you a glass of water.”

He disappeared inside and there was nothing for me to do but watch him go. Who was he? And where was I? I swung my legs down off the cushioned mat I’d been lying on. Sand rippled across the wooden floor beneath my feet. It was old and weather-beaten the nails rusty. I looked around, seeking out points of reference that might tell me where I was. By the ocean, that much was clear. I could not only hear it but could smell it. The view was almost the same as at Kay’s, just limited a bit by a tree, around whose trunk the terrace had been constructed. A bodyboard was leaning against the wooden stairs and a few pieces of clothing whippedback and forth on an old wash line. I was about to turn around again when something caught my eye. Bright-red swim trunks. And suddenly I knew why the guy looked familiar. Why I felt like I’d seen him before. It was the surfer I’d run into on the beach.Mr. Beachwear, a voice in my head joked. We’d looked at each other for a single second, tops, but I remembered him. I remembered those trunks…and the body inside them. I felt a funny tingling in my stomach. At the exact same moment, there he was with a glass of water in his hand.

“Here.”

As he handed it to me, I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the underside of his wrist. At most, the size of two quarters and gone again before I could really make it out.

“Thanks.” I could feel him eyeing me as I took a drink and enjoyed the soothing effect. “What happened?” I asked in a voice that was slowly beginning to sound like my own again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”

“Sure, I was jogging, and then…everything went black somehow.”

He nodded. “You doubled over. I happened to see it.”