Page 121 of Drop Shot
“Sad. Angry. Annoyed. But it’s all part of the game. I need to move on and focus on what comes next.”
“And what does come next?” His dad asks, standing to hug him once his mom lets him go.
Elias drops his eyes to me. “I’m going to talk to my team some more, but I think I’m going to take some time off, train hard, and come back for the US Open. I’d rather put my focus on that than to burn out my energy on smaller events.”
His dad nods. “Makes sense to me.”
I hate this for him, but there’s nothing I can do to make it better.
He must sense my feelings because he gives my hand a squeeze and says to me, “It’s okay. I’m going to bounce back.”
He will. I believe him.
CHAPTER 40
ELIAS
The minutewe’re in the car leaving the Miami airport I turn to Whimsy with a pathetic, begging pout. “Can I stay at your place?”
A tired laugh leaves her. “You really do like my tiny apartment, don’t you?”
“I love it.”
And I do. It smells like her and it’s homey. My place is cold. Too big, too quiet, and too fucking lonely. Now that I’ve spent the past few months sharing a bed with her every night, I know I’d get no sleep if I went home to my own place.
“You’re welcome at my place any time.”
“Good.” I kiss her cheek. “Is Craig going to be there?”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “My mom said she’d bring her over tomorrow.”
“Good,” I say again. “I like that cat.”
She doesn’t say anything but I can feel the amusement oozing out of her.
The Uber lets us out at her apartment building along with our bags.
“I’m so tired.” Whimsy stifles a yawn. “I’m excited to sleep in my own bed tonight, though.”
I don’t tell her, but I’m ready for a break. I need the mental reset. Sure, I’ll be practicing and prepping for the US Open, but it’ll be good for me to be back in Miami for an extended period of time.
Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and being away from home is a sacrifice I’m willing to make, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get to you at times.
We take the elevator silently up to Whimsy’s apartment. It takes her a moment to locate her keys, but once she does, the door swings open easily. It’s smaller than I remember, but I love it just the same. The girly pillows she has on her couch, her quirky art in the kitchen, even her uncomfortable too small for two people couch.
“Oh my god,” she gasps when she opens the door to her bedroom.
She turns around and promptly slams it shut.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hurrying to her side.
“I forgot about all my stuff we shipped back home. My mom brought it over instead of holding onto it and now that it’s in here why the hell did you let me buy so much stuff?”
“Well.” I grin. “If I recall, I was the one who was doing the purchasing.”
“Ugh, just look.” She swings to door back open and there are boxes stacked on either side of the bed as well as more piled on top.
“We’ll just move them out to the living room,” I reason. “In the morning you can go through them.”
