Page 31 of Set to Love

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy on me,” Zoe says, leaning over with her hands on her knees. “Not trying to wipe me off the court.”

I lower my bottle. My pulse is still thundering away. “Sorry. I just . . . I have a lot of energy to burn off.”

Zoe’s expression immediately shifts into something far too knowing. “Uh-huh. Does this have anything to do with Max?”

I glance over at the neighboring courts to avoid her gaze. Across from us, a local coach has claimed the far court and is setting up a hopper of balls for his first lesson of the day.

“Our date was yesterday. And it was . . .” I trail off. My mind flashes back to the glowing turquoise water inside Trident’s Run. Max’s hand wrapped around mine. The way he looked at me on that catwalk and the almost-kiss. “Really nice.”

Zoe snorts, wiping a stray blond hair from her eyes. “Come on, Katie. Spill the deets. You don’t play inspired, burn-the-court-down tennis like that based on a really nice date.”

“Fine,” I huff, leaning back against the fence. “It was amazing. Max isn’t like any guy I’ve ever gone out with. Things with him feel . . . easy. I can be myself. He just gets me.”

That gets her attention. She stops mid-stretch, her jaw dropping. “Whoa. You two hit it off that well?”

“We did,” I say, unable to bite back a smile any longer. I look down at my racquet, picking at a loose string. “I just hope things aren’t moving too fast.”

“News flash Katie, they kind of have to move fast.” Zoe’s voice drops its teasing edge. “There’s a ticking clock. He’s only here for two weeks. Remember.”

I let out a long sigh. “A week and a half now. After that . . .” The words die in my throat. After that, Max goes back to his life in London and I stay here. That’s that.

“Do. Not. Let. Your. Brain. Go. There,” Zoe says firmly, stepping toward me. “We’re not worrying about the future today. We’re in the present. That’s what matters. Just enjoy whatever this is for as long as you can.”

“You sound like a greeting card.” I gently elbow her.

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.” She bats her eyelashes at me dramatically, making me laugh. “Now, when are you seeing him again? Tomorrow?”

Heat sears my cheeks as I mumble, “Later this morning actually. At the gym.”

A wicked smirk creeps across Zoe’s face. “Atta girl! A gym date? That’s a bold move, Keller. Nothing says ‘I like you’ quite like getting all sweaty and lifting heavy things. You think he wants to impress you with how much he can bench press?”

“No,” I laugh, though the nerves flutter in my stomach again at the thought of him seeing me in beast mode.

“Actually, he offered to show me some of his balance and stability exercises. He thinks they might help with the stiffness in my ankle.”

“Well, if he can fix what months of PT couldn’t, I’ll give him a permanent spot on your support team.” Zoe checks her watch and nudges my gear bag with her toe. “Let’s hurry up and finish the set. And maybe take it a little easier on me. Some of us aren’t on your level today.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell her she’s every bit as fast as I am, but arguing with Zoe is like playing tennis against a brick wall. The ball always comes back at you.

Instead, I keep my lips zipped and head back to my side of the court. “Your serve,” I call out, tossing the ball over the net to her.

By 9:50 a.m., I’ve traded my tennis skirt for my favorite high-compression leggings, fueled up on a protein shake, and given myself a sponge bath with makeup-remover wipes. Yes, it’s cringeworthy, but when it’s the difference between being on time and half an hour late, sacrifices have to be made.

When I arrive in the lobby of Sunshine Fitness, I don’t see Max, so I walk over to the gym’s corkboard and feign interest in the colorful flyers. My hands are way too clammy to trust with my phone right now.

“Cycling is good cardio, but I’ve always preferred jump rope,” a voice says softly right behind my ear.

I jump hard enough that my shoulder nearly smacks the bulletin board. There goes three years off my life expectancy.

Max is standing there, looking way too relaxed, with a playful, lopsided grin on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, Katie.”

“It’s fine,” I huff, fighting to get my breathing under control. “Just call it a jumpstart to my cardio for the day.”

He’s opted for an oversized faded gray tee and a pair of black basketball shorts. They reveal those same powerful legs I noticed the other day, but somehow, with the black crew socks he’s wearing, they look even more defined.

Some women have a thing for a man’s forearms. Some are all about the abs. Me? I have a deeply unfortunate weakness for strong legs and crew socks.

“If your socks are ready, I am,” I say.