Page 77 of Not That Into You

Taking a deep breath, I glance at Cameron, who’s smiling as he walks toward Vanessa. He bends to kiss her on the cheek.

My heart clenches, and I decide she has perfect timing. Whatever was going on between Cameron and me needed to stop.

Vanessa gestures to the guy standing next to her. “This is my friend Ted.”

I give him an awkward smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Ted has dark brown hair and is handsome in a classic, Gregory Peck kind of way. And judging by his smile and the twinkle in his eye, he knows it. Or he believes he caught Cameron and me seconds away from tearing at each other’s clothes on a pickleball court in front of several other players old enough to be our parents.

I give myself a mental shake and move to stand next to Cameron.

“Glad you both could make it.” Cameron smiles as he glances at Vanessa. “Should we go over the rules?”

“No need,” Vanessa says with an answering smile. “Ted’s played before, and you did a really good job going over the rules last night.” She smiles coyly before glancing at me and widening her eyes. “Oh, but maybe Monica needs to hear them?”

I give her a toothy smile. “No need. Cameron already went over them. In detail. Twice.”

If I were a better person and wasn’t so off balance, I’d give Vanessa the benefit of the doubt and assume she was just being thoughtful. But I’m not a better person, and I’m not sure what Vanessa’s game is, but I doubt she’s as innocent as she seems.

And I really wish I didn’t skip dinner last night.

Cameron glances between us. “Why don’t we do a practice rally?”

We take our positions and hit the ball back and forth, practicing serves and groundstrokes. Overall, pickleball seems easier than tennis, and I can see why so many people like it.

“I think we’re ready,” Vanessa says. “You can serve first.”

Cameron grabs the ball and positions himself to serve as I roll my eyes. “Whatever happened to ladies first?”

He smirks. “We’re in it to win it, Matthews. I’m the better server, so I start.”

I snort. “Your humility awes me.”

We start playing, and Cameron and I fall into an easy rhythm, calling out balls and moving around the court. The serve moves from one player to the next until it’s finally my turn to serve, with the score tied one-one.

“You got this, Monica. Just as we practiced.”

After bouncing the ball a few times, I toss it in the air and hit it crosscourt. It’s not a powerful shot, but it does the job, and Cameron smashes Ted’s lob, winning us another point.

“Yes!” I give Cameron a high-five.

I serve again and, after volleying the ball with Vanessa, land another point.

“Nice job, Matthews!” Cameron slaps my butt with his paddle, and I glare at him before breaking into a grin.

The game continues with the serve moving back and forth between the teams. Although Vanessa and Ted score a few more points, they can’t keep up with us, and as we smile and celebrate after each point—Cameron does a surprisingly good moonwalk—they grow quiet and frustrated.

Finally, Cameron executes a perfect backhand groundstroke from the baseline, and the ball flies past Vanessa, scoring our final point of the first game.

Cameron holds his hands up in triumph. “We won!”

I jog over to him, grinning, and he lifts me up in a tight hug as I laugh.

He sets me down, beaming. “We make a great team.” He drops a kiss on my mouth, and I’m thankful I don’t have Claire’s pale skin, or I’d be blushing hard.

“Two out of three?” Ted asks.

“Sure,” Cameron says, still smiling at me.

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