Holding On (11 page)

I shrugged out of my running pants and pulled my sweatshirt
over my head. I felt the cool breeze on my skin and immediately shivered.
It was cold enough to need thick clothing, but I was going to be
sweating
in
a
minute,
so
I
tried
to
ignore
it.
Grabbing
my
favorite
racket,
I
headed for
the
closest
court.
No
time
like
the
present
to
get
my
shoulder
working again,
right?
I
bounced
the
ball
a
couple
times
and
then
threw
it
up
and over my head. I pulled my shoulder up and dropped my racket.
Crap!

I
must
have
screamed
it
because
I
heard
the
echo
through
the
silence.
I
rubbed
my
shoulder
and
started
to
run
through
the
strengthening
exercises
that
my
trainer
had
been
making
me
do,
up
until
about
a
month ago,
that
is.
I
hadn’t
seen
the
gym
in
over
five
weeks
with
how
crazy my life had become, my
body,
at least my shoulder, felt like it after
one attempt to
serve.

I
stretched
for
about
five
minutes
and
went
through
the
motions with my shoulder like I was going to serve for another five. Once I
felt like
I
wasn’t
going
to
cry
from
the
pain,
I
picked
my
racket
up
from where
it
had
fallen.
I
did
a
few
more
minutes
of
practice
swings
to
adjust to the weight of the racket, and then I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I bounced
the
ball
a
couple
times,
tossed
it
up
high,
and
slammed
it
across the net.
Out.

Well,
my shoulder was working just fine, but my aim was off. I
hit a few more, and
slowly,
my shoulder hurt less and my aim
improved. By the time I couldn’t feel any more pain, my aim was exactly where
I wanted
it
to
be,
and
I
felt
alive
for
the
first
time
in
over
a
month.
Tennis
had always been my go-to when I needed to calm down, when I
needed to
think,
or
when
I
needed
to
vent.
My
inner
calm
resurfaced
today,
and I was thankful that I was able to find it
again.

I gathered up my balls from around the courts and started to
pack my bags when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.
Slowly
grabbing my keys, I moved the can of Mace so that it was hidden in
the palm
of
my
hand.
I
kept
pretending
like
I
didn’t
know
someone
was
behind
me,
letting
them
think
they
had
the
element
of
surprise.
The closer they got, the more my body started to
shiver,
and I could feel
the goose bumps on my arms and
legs.

“I would prefer if you didn’t spray me in the face,” he
said.          

I
still
had
my
back
to
him,
and
I
knew
that
he
was
still
a
good distance
away
from
me,
but
I
could
feel
the
tingles
run
up
my
spine.
His
voice was smooth, deep, and oh so
sexy.

Slowly,
I
stood
up
and
turned.
As
I
took
in
the
view,
I
felt
my
knees go
weak,
and
I
thought
I
was
going
to
pass
out.
I
let
out
the
breath
I had
been
holding
and
tried
to
smile,
but
my
lips
were
protesting.
His
eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but the rest of his
amazingly delicious
body
was
visible.
His
voice
and
his
body
were
a
perfect complement to each
other.

Unconsciously,
my
thumb
ran
across
the
palm
of
my
hand
and started
to
move
my
ring.
“Why
is
that?
Afraid
I
have
good
aim?”
I
tried to
sound
snarky,
but
I
was
sure
I
sounded
unsure
and
weak,
maybe
even a
little
scared.
The
simple
words
made
me
breathless,
and
I
had
to
inhale
deeply.

“I can see that your aim is great. I’m actually more afraid you
will
use your racket on me than the
Mace.”

He
was
trying
to
lighten
the
mood,
and
it
was
working
for
some
reason. I didn’t feel as uneasy as I was before. After all, he looked
like he
was
about
my
age,
so
being
at
the
school
was
not
that
out
of
character, and his natural good looks and to-die-for body made me want to
wrap
myself around him more than it made me want to run.
Crap!

“What’s the matter?” he asked this with a twinge of concern on
his face, and I realized that I was thinking out loud
again.

“Nothing. I just have to get home.” I tried to sound nonchalant,
but I
was
pretty
sure
it
didn’t
work.
As
he
took
a
tentative
step
toward
me,
I wanted
to
step
back,
but
my
legs
were
weak
again,
and
I
was
afraid
any movement on my part would cause me to fall. Another step and he
was
within
arm’s
reach to me, and my body was reacting to him in a way
it had never reacted to anyone, except Brad
recently.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself? Isn’t it more fun
to hit the ball back and forth than chase after them every five
minutes?” As
he
said
this,
I
realized
that
he
had
two
tennis
balls
in
his
hand
and that he was trying to give them to me. I reached out, and as my
fingers brushed across his hand, I closed my eyes. Once I realized I was
doing this, I opened them quickly to find him smiling at me, and I could
feel his gaze deep within my soul. His sunglasses were not hiding much
of anything from my
body.

“Yes,
but
I
needed
the
practice.
Thank
you
for
returning
these,
but
I really
have
to
go.”
I
made
myself
step
away
from
him,
tucked
both
balls under my skirting, and grabbed my bag. I didn’t look back as I
exited the
courts,
but
I
could
feel
his
eyes
on
me.
My
body
shuddered
at
the thought
of
him
watching
my
every
move,
but
then
I
realized
that
he
had been watching me
practice.