Page 144 of Summer After Summer

“I didn’t win the championship.”

“It was still amazing.”

I kiss him again. He tastes like toothpaste. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know. Things are good here.” I reach out and caress his face. “Maybe I don’t want to leave you for that long.”

“I could come with you.”

“What about the business?” Wes runs his own company, a private venture cap firm that invests in cutting-edge pharmaceuticals.

“Oh right, that.”

“Yeah, that. Besides, a tournament like that … if I’m going to take it seriously, I need to go over early, to totally shut myself off from everything and everyone.”

“I understand.”

“You’ve never really seen me like that.”

“Are you worried that I won’t love you anymore if you’re totally focused on something that isn’t me?”

“Oh, you love me, do you?” I say it lightly because we haven’t said those words. Not yet.

“You know I do.”

“Do I?”

“Olivia, yes.” He steps closer to me and takes my face in his hands. “I love you. I do. I thought you knew.”

“How am I supposed to know it if you don’t say it?”

“You’re right. I’m going to say it every day.”

I laugh. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. I love you, Olivia Taylor.”

“I love you too, Wes Taylor.” I kiss him again, and we bend into each other, wrapping our arms around one another. “Okay, then. I love you every day, it is.”

“Sounds good to me.” He tousles my hair. “So, you’re going?”

“To Wimbledon?”

“Yes?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I drop my arms and step away. Why don’t I want to go to Wimbledon? Why have I avoided it all these years despite the urging of my coaches, the press, everyone?

It’s obvious but unexplainable.

Fred.

“You do remember what happened the last time I went there, right?”

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