Page 39 of Wicked Serve

“Ballet?” I interrupt.

She digs her elbow into my side. “How did you know?”

“Something tells me that baby Isabelle was very enamored with pink tutus.”

“Yes,” she says with a sigh. “The tutus. The greatest advertisement ballet could ever come up with. But it was so rigid. I just wanted to move to music, I didn’t want to learn specific steps.”

“You’re still an excellent dancer.”

“You’re not half-bad yourself.”

“Did you go into volleyball, then?”

“No. I tried soccer first, and then softball. Both were fine—just not enough to make me want to really work at it, you know? And then, when I was in middle school, my dad took me to a charity volleyball game. And it clicked for me.” As she talks, her voice brightens. “I loved how fast-paced it was, and all the coordination and teamwork. I went to volleyball camp—that’s how I met Victoria—and joined a club team that fall.”

“That’s nice,” I say, my heart squeezing fondly. “I’m glad that you discovered it.”

“I want to feel that again. I was really involved with my team in high school, I was a leader, and now it’s just... it’s like I’m on the outs.” She frowns at me. “Are you feeling this way, with the new team?”

“I think it’s normal.” I’ve always felt... apart, somehow, from my teammates, and so far, McKee hasn’t proved to be an exception, even if I’ve gotten dinner with the guys a few times and worked on my economics homework in the team lounge with Mickey. Isabelle, though? I can’t imagine her not finding a place on her team. “Maybe the thing with Brooklyn will help.”

“Maybe.” She knocks her shoulder against mine. “I can’t get over the thought of you playing with Cooper.”

“He’s really good,” I admit.

“Of course he’s good. He’s a Callahan.”

I yank her shirt hem; she sticks her tongue out. She shrieks as I drag her close by the legs. “Nik—”

I kiss her, my hands skimming underneath the shirt. I wish she could spend the night. For some reason, I sleep better when she’s around, and that’s been true since the first time we shared a bed. “Then you’re good, too.”

Chapter 18

Izzy

The volleyball sails over my head, way out-of-bounds. On the other side of the net, Victoria shrugs. “Whoops?”

“That was terrible,” I call as I chase after it.

“You weren’t paying attention.”

I spare Coach Alexis a glance as I scoop up the ball. Her gaze sweeps over the gym, clearly missing nothing. I adjust my headband, hustling back to Victoria. We’re doing an easy serving drill in pairs before practice truly begins, but that’s no excuse for sloppiness.

“Your face is all red,” Victoria says, easily catching the ball after I lob it over the net.

I stick my tongue out, even though my legs are aching. Nik and I have been switching off the swims with runs, and I have to admit that the runs are growing on me, even if they leave me feeling like jelly.

“Haven’t you been getting plenty of cardio?” she says. She holds on to the pole holding up the net, opening her mouth in an exaggerated orgasmic O as she tilts her head back. “Oh, give it to me harder, you big, sexy Russian—”

“Yoon,” Alexis calls. “A little more effort, please.”

I’m fighting to keep a straight face when she adds, “You too, Callahan. You’re running like you’ve got cinder blocks on your feet.”

“Sorry, Coach,” we chorus. Victoria serves the ball to me. I catch it, set up for a serve, and smack it over the net to her. She has a weird look on her face, as if she just stepped on a slug.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

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