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  “Marc.” I can’t help my giggle as he pauses. He pinches my nipple hard. “Ow!” I laugh.

  “That was not funny.”

  “Then why am I laughing?”

  Noah whips me around. His face is so serious, it causes me to laugh harder. He crashes his lips to mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. His kiss is so deep and consuming. “Tell me,” he demands.

  “Noah Ramsey,” I breathe.

  “Are you done relaxing in the jacuzzi?” I nod. “Good. If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to need more room.” When I stand to get out, Noah runs his eyes up my body. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll make sure you go happy and satisfied.” I step out of the tub and head out to the main room. “Going to be hard to do, though, if you don’t join me.”

  I grin when I hear the water sloshing.

  Physical therapy is a pain in my ass. My new therapist seems okay. However, since it’s been a few days since my last session, my shoulder has been sore and achy. I haven’t said a word about it, though. It needs to be somewhat prepared for any activity I do when I start my new job. I’ve played through pain before. That’s one reason why my shoulder became as bad as it did. I tried to ignore the pain and weakness until I couldn’t any longer.

  The tear was the biggest my doctor had seen. Surgery was the only option. Getting into a car accident so soon afterward set me back by damaging it again. It seemed like my life started having setbacks one after another. So many things have changed as a result.

  For example, I’ve never considered myself needy. Reassurances are great, but I never thought I needed them. Never did I wonder if I was capable of something. Never did I want someone to tell me that I was capable, that I could do it, and that I would do well.

  But here I am, the night before I start my new job, and I’m having problems. This is my first night in his apartment without him lying in bed next to me and so far, I don’t like it. See? Example one of being needy. Example two is that I fear I’m going to fail at being an assistant coach, and the only thing I want right now is the person who is in another state because he had a preseason game.

  I want to call Noah, but I hesitate. He’s not used to this me. The me who had her confidence and self-worth shaken by Vance on top of a potentially career-ending injury. My life seemed to be over. He drilled into me that I was an idiot to think I had a part in the tennis world without the ability to play, and he assured me that I had lost that. Even though there’s more to this coaching position than that, I can’t help but wonder what the hell they were thinking in hiring me.

  And being by myself while Vance was away never made me feel as lonely as I do right now. I never missed him this much. Granted, there’s a huge difference between Noah and Vance, but even with other, nicer boyfriends, it was never like this.

  My phone rings and I scramble from Noah’s side of the bed, because yes, I was lying over there since I miss him, to the other nightstand to grab my phone.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “Miss me yet?”

  “Only a little,” I lie, settling into his side of the bed again. “When are you coming home?”

  Noah laughs. “That’s the kind of question someone who missed me a lot would ask.”

  “Fine. I miss you like crazy. When are you coming back?”

  “We’re flying out tomorrow night after the game. It’ll be late when I get home.”

  Ugh. I need to get myself together. Noah’s job requires him to travel, so I need to get used to this, especially if I do return to the game. I need to figure out how to undo what Vance did because then I’ll be able to handle this a lot better. Yet, I still find myself saying something because I need to hear him say it. “Usually when someone tells you they miss you, the other person says they missed them too.”

  There’s the briefest of pauses. “I’ve missed you, Mere.”

  I relax a little more. “Good. I’ll sleep naked tomorrow night and you have permission to wake me when you get home.”

  Noah groans. “Don’t torture me.”

  “I’m not. Just giving you something to look forward to.”

  “Mission accomplished. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “Not really. I’m nervous. They had to be high or idiots to hire me, right? It doesn’t make sense.” It’s truly baffling.

  Noah laughs. “Baby, I don’t think it’s good to say your boss was high or an idiot to hire you. You have tons of experience as a player, and lots of coaches used to be players. They’re not going to just throw you into the lion’s den. They’ll help you.”

  Not so sure Erica is going to be very helpful by how many glares she threw my way when she saw me after the interview. That’s not what holds me silent, though. He called me baby. A shudder runs through me because when I think that word, it’s not in Noah’s voice. It’s in Vance’s.

  “You there?” he asks, his voice back to being serious.

  “Did you call me baby?”

  There’s a pause, but then he says with confusion, “Yeah, I guess so. You don’t like that?”

  “I prefer Mere; you’re the only one who’s ever called me that.”

  He perks up. “Yeah? Not even that prick?” Prick being what Noah now prefers to call Vance.

  I swallow hard. “Baby was his preference.” And then I decide to change the subject before we can focus on this. “Are you seriously getting excited because calling me Mere when no other boyfriend has is...what? Like one-upping those ex-boyfriends or something?”

  “In a way, yeah. It’s kind of in my nature to be competitive and be the best. Considering you’re the most important person in my life, that part is amplified. I want to be your best everything.”

  “Aw, you’re such a fucking sap, Rams,” I hear Marc say in the background before he starts laughing.

  “Shut the hell up.” To me, he says, “Sorry. Text me, okay?”

  “I will,” I promise.

  “And Mere?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ll do great.”

  I sure hope so. It could be what I end up doing for the rest of my life.

  “I’m sticking you with the freshmen because you can’t possibly make them any worse,” Erica tells me.

  Gail shoots her a stern look. “That was uncalled for. Your personal issues with her need to stay out of this.” So, I guess Gail now knows why Erica didn’t want to hire me. Gail turns to me with a sympathetic smile. “This is my last week, so observe today. Feel free to interact with the girls and ask any questions. I’ll help you learn the ropes.” Erica walks out of the room before she can finish. “Sorry. She was really hoping she and Noah could work through their problems. You’re an easy person to direct her anger toward. She’ll come around.”

  I nod, but I don’t believe her. True to her word, I shadow at first. Gail and I get the baskets of balls out onto the court as well as a few ball feeding machines. By the time we finish, Erica joins us and girls slowly file onto the courts. Gail is telling me their names as they arrive and checks them off on a clipboard.

  “O.M.G! You’re Meredith Quick!” a girl, Carrie, screams so loudly, I struggle not to wince. It’s like everyone suddenly notices me and swarms in on me.

  “Girls, girls,” Gail says, and they quiet down. “Meredith is my replacement.”

  “No way!”

  “Seriously!”

  “This is awesome!”

  The chorus of excitement helps me relax a little until a girl near the back asks, “Are you going to rally with us?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Kira. She had a career-ending injury. If she can’t play in the pros, how can she rally?” Carrie snaps at her with a roll of her eyes. It’s tempting to correct her because I’m still holding onto hope that I can continue with my career versus continuing with my backup plan.

  “Watch it,” Gail warns. “Meredith will not rally unless she feels as if she can. She’s going to be a great asset in teaching you how to play, for those of you ne
w to the game, and bettering the skills of those who are more familiar.”

  “Why did you and Vance Powers break up?” Carrie asks.

  Gail jumps to my rescue once again. “Personal questions like that have no place in practice. If you wouldn’t ask me or Erica about our relationships, then you don’t ask Meredith. She’s a coach and questions will be about tennis. Got it?”

  Their heads nod in agreement.

  “Good. Someone lead the stretches and then run your laps.”

  The girls disperse. This is going to take some getting used to. While they do as they were told, I learn that some of these girls have never played before. Erica usually works with the top-seeded girls while Gail works with those new to the sport. I expect Gail to throw me in head first, but she gives me another assignment.

  “Watch the girls as they rally. All of them. Take notes, so we can help them improve. As a fellow player and having never watched them before, you may see something we don’t.” She hands me a clipboard with a pen and paper. “I’ve listed the courts and the girls’ names, so we’ll know who you’re talking about while you’re learning names. They’ll practice with the ball feeder later and I’ll have them call out their name the first time through, so you can make a new list.”

  It’s easy enough, but also interesting to watch and critique the way someone else is playing. I’m used to being the person who gets critiqued. One girl who seems to have the most trouble and the least amount of help from anyone is Kira, the girl who asked if I would rally. After I have, hopefully, plenty of notes, I find Gail.

  “How’s it going?” she asks, eyeing them as they hit balls from the ball feeder.

  “Good. Um,” I hesitate, wondering if it would be a good idea.

  “What is it?”

  “Kira. Is she new to playing?”

  Gail nods. “Yes. She had no prior experience. Tennis isn’t a money-earner around here, so we don’t make cuts like football might. Plus, the girl does try her best. She’s one of the few who doesn’t get a chance to play until our opponent has the same number of players or unless someone is injured.”

  That sounds terrible. She’s part of the team, but not really? “Could I take her to the free court and work with her?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  I grab a basket of balls and call out, “Kira! Come with me.”

  Poor girl looks like she just got called to the principal’s office. She runs over and then follows me to the last court, away from most of the girls. She seems nervous and fidgety. I place the basket stand down and turn to face her. “Can you do a practice swing for me?”

  “Um, sure.”

  There’s a lot wrong. I correct her grip, show her the proper stance, and give her a brief glance as I take her racket to show her the proper swing. “Focus on my feet, my hips, and then the actual swing, okay?” After I do it a few times, slowly to not aggravate my shoulder, I hand it back for her to try.

  “What made you want to play?” I ask, watching her swings carefully. Something isn’t adding up.

  “I promised my mom I would step out of my comfort zone,” she admits. “I’m, um, not exactly a social butterfly. I’m not good, but I really like it.” She stops and looks serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about the dumb question earlier. I’ve always watched tennis and I didn’t even think about your injury.”

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t a dumb question either. I haven’t retired yet, and rallying is different than an intense game, so it makes sense that you may wonder if I could do that. Maybe we’ll be able to rally some soon. Anyway,” I take a deep breath to stop thinking about my injury. “I think you’re brave for trying this. How does it feel when you swing?”

  “Awkward.”

  “Are you right-handed?” She nods. “Try with your left. I knew a girl who had a dominant right hand in everything except tennis.”

  Her struggling swing immediately improves. She was using the wrong hand! I correct her grip and then have her do it a few more times.

  “Wow. It feels more natural,” Kira admits.

  I grin. “Good. Let’s test it out. I’ll toss a ball. Let it bounce and then go for it.”

  I quietly enter the house, half-worried since Meredith never texted me about her day and half-excited because she should be naked in my bed right now. All I’ve been thinking about since getting on the plane to come home is the different possible ways I can wake her up. It’s about two in the morning and sleep isn’t my number one priority. I can sleep in a little tomorrow if I want.

  The door to my bedroom is open. I avoid looking at the bed until I set my duffel bag down first. Meredith is indeed naked. She’s lying on her back, one arm above her head and one hand on her breast, the covers sitting just below them. I grin. For some reason, Meredith grabs a boob in her sleep. I teased her about it a lot when we were younger and I’d sneak over to sleep at her house. I’d wake up and she would have her hand cupping one of them. It’s good to know she still does it.

  My mind only has one track. I lean over the bed, over her breasts, and know how I’ll wake her. My head dips and I graze my teeth over the nipple of the breast she isn’t holding hostage before pinching it between my teeth. She shifts, but doesn’t wake up. I swirl my tongue around it as the arm above her head slides down toward me. I suck hard, releasing her breast with a pop, and then bite her nipple just a tad harder.

  That wakes her up.

  Her hands dive into my hair and she tugs to lift my head. “Noah?” God, her sleepy voice is enough to get me hard all on its own. Add a hooded gaze with lazy blinks as her fingers run through my hair and I’m ready to pounce.

  “Are you expecting someone else?” I arch an eyebrow at her.

  She shakes her head and then her eyes scan my body. “You’re wearing a suit? Stand up.”

  I stand upright and she drinks me in.

  “I’ve never seen you in a suit that actually fits you. Wow.” She covers a yawn with her hand before moving onto her knees. “I’ll help you undress.” She reaches for my tie first.

  “You never texted me about your day,” I remind her, trailing my fingers over her stomach.

  A smile lights her face, which is a fantastic sign. Unfortunately, she forgets all about undressing me as she sits on the bed, pulling the covers up, which leaves me to undress myself. “It was crazy. Erica wasn’t all that nice to me, but Gail said she’ll come around. The best part was working with this girl, Kira. It’s her first year playing and,” Meredith hesitates before adding, “she’s not good.”

  “How is that the best part?” I interrupt, confused. I’m down to my boxer-briefs, so I get into bed next to her. Meredith cuddles up to me and I try to focus on the words she’s saying instead of her body.

  “Because! I helped her. She has the lowest seed, so she rarely plays. I noticed a few things and once I learned that, decided to work with her one on one.” The cutest little frown appears. “I don’t think they really paid attention to her. She’s right-handed, but should’ve been playing with her left. She still has a ways to go, but god, Noah, she was so much better than she was. She might move up a few seeds after more practice. If every day is like today, I think I’ll like it a lot. I was even able to demonstrate!”

  “I’m glad you’re liking it. Can I have my welcome home kiss now? You said you missed me a lot, but I haven’t gotten a kiss yet. Maybe you didn’t miss me as much as you said? I can get back on the plane.”

  She closes the distance between us and presses her mouth to mine. Meredith kisses me slowly. It’s one of those unhurried, could last forever kind. When she pulls away, she has this sleepy look in her eyes. She snuggles closer to me.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispers.

  “Me too. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “You still grope yourself in your sleep.”

  She leans back to look at me. “What? I do not! You’re the only one who’s ever told me I hold a boob in my sleep and I don’t think you’re tell
ing the truth.”

  I laugh. “How would I even come up with something like that?”

  She shrugs and rests against me again. “I’m glad you woke me up, Noah.”

  “Me too. Although,” I move my hand down to her ass, scooting her closer to me, “I may have expected more than us just talking.”

  “I’m tired.”

  Damn. All I’ve thought about since she told me she would be naked is what we were going to do once I got home and now she’s tired. I move my hand back to her hip, kiss the top of her head, and close my eyes.

  But then, she giggles, her hand sneaking underneath my waistband as she says, “Just kidding. I thought you’d try to persuade me.”

  “Next time, I most definitely will.”

  Two days later, I have a day off. Meredith has been really interested in seeing the practice arena, and learning more about my career in general, so we make our first stop there today. I offered to let her come watch practice yesterday, but she declined. She wants to wait until the season starts since she’s never seen me play as a pro.

  She listens as I show her around, but there’s honestly not a lot to see. There’s the rink, the training rooms, a few conference rooms, some offices, and a lobby-like room, to name a few things. After we finish a walkthrough, we drive downtown for some lunch.

  “Do you ever workout outside of the team?” she asks once our waitress walks away.

  “Yeah. The apartment complex has a gym and pool on the top floor.”

  She shakes her head at me. “That would’ve been good to know.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “It’s fine. I was going to try to find a gym, but now I don’t have to. I need to stay active.” She glances down at herself with a frown. She isn’t overweight by any means, but she’s unfit compared to the weight she would be if she was still playing. “I’ll have to be careful with my shoulder, though,” she adds in a sigh. “Sometimes I wish I never played to start with.”

  Did I forget to mention she’s having a bit of a bad day?