Page 10 of Suddenly Single

“So, what are you and Sissy doing in Charlottesville today?” I couldn't look him in the eye

“Mom and I are going to an estate sale. It’s actually in Crozet, outside of C'ville.” Carter stood and grabbed his empty plate and rinsed it. “Is Corinne coming today?”

“Who?” My mind blanked, then realized he was talking about the maid. “Yeah, just leave the dishes in the sink. She’ll take care of it.”

“Awesome.” He glanced at his watch, then came over and kissed me on top of my head. “I’ve gotta hurry. Have fun playing sports ball at the club.”

When I parked the car, Cort was leaning against his green Porsche, eying his watch. “Did you eat yet? Because I’m starving.”

“Yes, Carter made breakfast for a change. But you can grab a muffin or something before we hit the tennis court.” I forced a smile. Cort tilted his head, a look of concern passing over his face. He could tell something was wrong. “I could use another cup of coffee, to be honest.”

As we walked toward the entrance to the Club’s restaurant, I noticed the tennis courts were full. “Whoever’s playing on our court is still grinding it out, so take your time eating.”

Cortland Tyler and I were lifelong friends. We’d gone to St. Christopher’s School together, as well as the University of Virginia, then Georgetown University for law school. Now he worked for Mom, and like me, he was a partner at the firm. He was the first person I told I was gay, and it turned out he was too. For a while, I thought he had a crush on me, but if he ever had, those feelings had been replaced by a friendly rivalry both on and off the tennis courts.

My family was old money, but he had even more prestige. Cort was a direct descendant of President John Tyler, and his relatives still lived at the family plantation, Sherwood Forest, in Charles City county. Though we were friends, there was a competitive streak in both of us. Neither of us liked to lose, especially at tennis. Most Saturdays we’d duke it out on the tennis courts.

“So, how is the old ball and chain?” Cort asked as soon as we sat down. Before I could answer, a server came by and took our order. As soon as coffee was in front of us, I answered.

“Carter is doing, um, okay.” I sighed.

“Well, he might be doing fine, but you look horrible. What’s wrong?” Cort swiped a curly lock of red hair off his forehead.

Shit. Cort knew me better than most people, and it would be impossible to put one over on him. Before I could think of the right lies to tell him, the truth came tumbling out.

“The state of Colorado fucked up, and it turns out me and Carter aren’t legally married.”

Cort’s mouth opened, then shut.

“You know how I feel about Carter. He’s my husband in my heart, even if we aren’t really married.” I combed my hair back with my fingers. “I talked to Mom about it, and she said to keep my mouth shut. It might benefit me in the future if things ever go bad between us.”

“You mean to tell me that Carter and you aren’t officially together anymore?” Cort’s eyes widened.

“No, I mean, yes. Shit. I don’t know where we stand. All I know is I’ll do anything to…” A sweaty man in tennis gear ran up to us and we both turned our attention to him.

“Hey, are you Asher and Cort?” The man swiped at his forehead with his wristband.

“Yeah.”

“Tennis court is all yours. Just had my ass handed to me by my kid.” The man laughed and ran off, followed by a teenage boy. Cort drained his coffee, then stood and smirked at me.

“A hundred bucks if I win in two sets. Fifty if I win it in three.” Cort stretched out his hand. I reached for it, thinking he would help me to my feet. Instead, he snatched it back and laughed. “I’m gonna kick your ass, Asher.”

We’d split the first two sets, and it was the most competitive match we’d ever played. Normally we went for broke, especially if we were playing for cash. Cort was grunting when he hit the ball, and neither of us ever put that much effort into a tennis match. When we changed sides of the court, he snarled, “I’m kicking your ass, Yates.”

But I was determined to win, so when we went to a tie-break at the end of the third set, I gritted my teeth and forced my aching legs forward. Both of us preferred playing from the baseline, so when Cort served, then raced to the net for a volley, it threw me off my game.

“Fuck.” I muttered. If Cort won the next point, I’d be out fifty bucks. But it wasn’t the money. Somehow, this match felt personal, like we weren’t playing just to win. I’d swear Cort was determined to humiliate me.

Cort tossed the ball in the air, but his racket didn’t connect. He held his hand up to apologize, then a ferocious grin spread across his cheeks. Seconds later, he tossed the ball in the air again, and with a grunt, he faked a big serve and instead hit the ball underhanded, where it landed inches away from the net on my side of the court.

“You asshole!” I yelled and scrambled for the ball. I knew there was no way I’d reach it, but my body moved on instinct. Shockingly, my racket made contact with the ball, but it went into the net. I fell on my back with a groan. What the hell was wrong with Cort? We never played using sketchy techniques. Both of us were competitive, but this was unheard of.

The racket fell from my hand and I covered my face with my hands. Then I heard footsteps running up, and Cort completed my humiliation.

“Fifty bucks, loser.”

I removed my hands to behold the asshole grinning down at me. My fists clenched, and all I wanted to do was belt Cort, hit that smug smile from his face. This wasn’t a friendly tennis match, at least not from my perspective. Technically, he hadn’t cheated, but the way he won was looked down on by most players. What I wanted to know was why? Why was he determined to win so badly?

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