Page 12 of Advantage Love

"I know how to play tennis," I snap, even as I adjust my stance.

The next serve comes in hot. I channel my frustration into the return, sending the ball screaming down the line. Perfect placement. Perfect power.

"Better." Luke's approval shouldn't affect me, but warmth blooms in my chest anyway. "Now serve."

I move to the baseline aware of our audience. This is what I'm known for. My serve was clocked at 128 mph last season. Lately, it's been inconsistent. Unpredictable. Like me.

"Focus, Jenkins." Luke tells me. "Show them why you're worth the investment."

I block everything out except the ball and the court. My toss is perfect, my motion fluid. The serve rockets over the net, hitting the corner with an explosive crack.

"That's my girl," Luke murmurs.

Heat that has nothing to do with exertion as warmth floods my body. I serve again, and again, each one better than the last, until my coach calls for a break.

"Impressive, Miss Jenkins," the Wilson rep says as I approach. "We're particularly interested in your dynamic with Mr. Mitchell."

"Our dynamic?" I accept the water bottle Luke hands me, our fingers brushing.

"The public is fascinated by your relationship," she explains. "It's marketing gold. We're thinking of building a campaign around it. How love can make the difference.”

I almost choke on my water.

Luke's hand settles on my lower back. "We would be open to looking at that."

The reps eyes track the gesture. "Exactly. The bad girl of tennis, tamed by love? The story writes itself."

"I'm not some fairytale princess needing rescuing," I start, but Luke squeezes my hip in warning.

"What Avery means," he smoothly interjects, "is that our relationship is about partnership, not taming."

"Even better." The rep makes a note on her tablet. "We'll want joint appearances, of course. Practice sessions like this, but with media present. Perhaps some lifestyle photos at home?"

"Within reason," Luke says, reading my discomfort. "Avery's focus needs to be on training."

"Of course." The Wilson rep turns to the Nike rep. "Your thoughts?"

"We're in," he says immediately. "But we want exclusivity on the relationship angle. Joint sponsorships only."

They discuss terms while I try not to focus on Luke's thumb drawing small circles against my back. It's meant to be comforting, I know, but it's driving me crazy.

"We'll have our team review the contracts." Luke announces finally.

"One more thing," The Wilson rep calls as we turn to leave. "The kiss at the press conference? That kind of authentic emotion is exactly what we're looking for. Keep it up."

Luke's hand tightens on my hip. "Trust me," he says, voice rough. "That won't be a problem."

"Contracts will be ready tomorrow," the rep says as they leave. "You two are going to be amazing for our brand."

When they're gone, Luke turns to me with that wicked smile. "Told you I could sell it."

I watch him walk away, all confident swagger. Only five more weeks of this and its done.

Chapter 9: Avery

"One month down," I murmur to my reflection, adjusting the designer tennis dress Wilson sent over for today's campaign shoot. The fabric hugs every curve, the hem hitting mid-thigh, more fashion than function. But that's the point, isn't it? To look good. To play well and to date Luke. Well. Fake date Luke.

The numbers don't lie. My ranking has climbed two spots. Three new sponsors have signed on and even my serve percentage is up. Luke's plan is working perfectly.

---