Page 6 of Worth the Fall

"Still haven’t told her how you feel about her yet, huh?" I half whisper to Austin.

"Something like that." He laughs, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

After our quick introductions, we split into teams—me and Austin against Becca and Hector, while Miguel offers to referee with Taylor. I try not to notice how good he looks on the sidelines in his navy athletic shorts and gray T-shirt, or how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. I fail spectacularly at both.

"So," Miguel says during a water break, moving to stand next to me, "Austin mentioned you're at Harrison & Brooks?"

"Three years now." I nod, trying to focus on his words rather than how he towers over my five-six frame in a way that makes me want to wear heels to pickleball.

"That’s a great firm. I’ve recommended a few clients their way, actually. What’s your focus?"

"Corporate law, mostly. You?"

"Did family law before turning to focus on corporate the last several years," he replies.

"Austin mentioned you recently signed on at his and Taylor’s financial firm. Switching to finance law now for fun or are you just an overachiever?"

Am I flirting?

"I guess you could say that." He laughs. "But it was in search of a much-needed better work-life balance." There's something in his tone, a hint of a story there, but before I can ask?—

"Heads up!" Austin's voice rings out.

I turn just in time to see the pickleball hurtling toward my face but not in time to move. Then everything goes black for a moment. Because, of course, this is how I meet an attractive man, with a sports injury and probable concussion. At least I wore waterproof mascara.

"Ow!" My hand flies up instinctively to cup my eye as tears begin to stream down my face.

When my vision clears, I'm looking up into concerned brown eyes. He helps me up into a seated position, Miguel's hands are steadying my shoulders, and he's closer than anyone has been in months. Close enough that I’m consumed with the sudden urge to lean into him.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, one hand moving to cradle the back of my head. The gentle touch sends sparks down my spine that definitely aren't concussion related. "You took that ball straight to the face."

"Wouldn’t be the first time." I attempt to crack a joke to lighten the mood, but I immediately regret it. Instead of flirty and cute, it comes out crass.

"I'm…" The words die in my throat as he cups my face, tilting it gently to examine the injury. His hands are warm and surprisingly soft for someone so athletic, and I find myself fighting the urge to lean into his touch. He's close enough that I can smell his cologne mixing with the fresh scent of his shower gel, and it's making my head spin in a way that definitely isn't from the impact.

"Follow my finger," he instructs softly, and I obey, though my focus keeps drifting to his mouth. His lips are full and slightly curved with concern, and I'm suddenly wondering whatthey would feel like against mine. The thought sends heat racing through me, settling low in my belly.

When our eyes meet, the air between us shifts. His thumb brushes just below my eye, a touch that feels more like a caress than a medical check, and my pulse kicks into overdrive. For a moment, we're frozen in this bubble of tension, his dark eyes locked on mine, his hand still cradling my face.

I swear he sways slightly closer, and my breath catches in anticipation. But then shouting breaks through our moment, shattering the spell.

"You hit her in the face!" Taylor exclaims.

"Because you distracted me!" Austin shoots back.

"Oh please, you're just mad because I was winning!"

"Maybe it’s because you won’t stop waving your ass in my face in that tight little skirt that has no business being on a pickleball court!"

"I’m not so sure whatever is going on between them involves us." He smiles, brushing a chunk of my hair out of my face. Their bickering fades into background noise as Miguel keeps his concern focused on me, his hand still warm on my back. "Any dizziness?"

"No," I say softly, my focus solely on the way his chocolate brown eyes bore into mine.

"Any other damage besides your eye?" He places his fingers gently beneath my chin, tipping my head from side to side as he scans my face.

"Just my pride," I manage, trying to ignore how my skin tingles where he's touching me. "Guess those TikTok tutorials didn't cover ducking."

He chuckles, and the sound does something funny to my insides. "Maybe we should get some ice on that. Don’t want you having to step into court with a black eye come Monday morning."

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