Alina took a deep breath. Her heart pounded in double time at the enormity of what she was going to say. “Stacy is no longer on the tour. She had a couple of years on the Challenger circuit, but she wasn’t good enough to make tennis her career. The last I heard, she works in politics as some sort of campaign advisor.”
Tova was silent. Then she reached a hand across the table. “Alina, you know this is off the record if that’s what you want—need—it to be. You can talk to me. I don’t think you’ve talked to anyone for a very long time.”
The compassion in Tova’s voice was nearly Alina’s undoing. I won’t cry. She dragged a deep breath, and then another, until she was sure her voice would remain steady. “Nothing has changed.” She closed her eyes momentarily at the unfairness of that. “My coach, my agent, my country… Tennis must come first in everything I do. If I date, it must be a suitable man.”
“If it were up to you, would you have a personal life that went beyond tennis?”
The ache of longing in her chest bit deep. She nodded. If only…
“Well then.” Tova sat back in her seat as the waiter approached and set down their entrées.
Alina stared at her duck. The aroma made her mouth water. How long had it been since she’d been excited about her food? How long had it been since she’d been excited about a lot of things? “What about you?” she asked. “You travel a lot following the tennis tour. Do you have a partner?”
“No. My last girlfriend was a physiotherapist who also spent a lot of time with the tour. But we split nearly a year ago. It was a mutually amicable decision.”
The duck tasted as delicious as it looked. Suddenly, there were new possibilities in the evening, in the remainder of the week in Melbourne. Beyond that? Alina didn’t know.
The boulder that had lodged in her chest for the past few months shifted. It wasn’t gone, not yet, but in the flickering candlelight, the haze of an unaccustomed glass of wine, there was the potential for it to dissipate in a starburst leaving her free of its weight.
Free to be what? Alina didn’t know. But maybe, she was about to find out.
She leaned forward and raised her palm.
Tova placed hers against Alina’s without hesitation.
Tova’s hand was warm, and the touch sent sparks along Alina’s palm, travelling the nerve pathways towards her heart. She linked their fingers together. “Tell me how players go about changing their citizenship.”
If you enjoyed this short story, check out Code of Conduct by Cheyenne Blue, where you’ll be able to meet Alina for the first time.
What Happens at Game Night…
Alex K. Thorne
“Game night!” Ava announced with excitement.
Gwen looked at her as if she’d just grown a second head (which, considering Ava’s alien DNA, was not entirely out of the question). She forced herself to repeat the words, making sure to inflect them with an appropriate amount of disgust. “Game night?”
It was the first time in weeks that Gwen was home before dinner. The table read for her new HBO show had ended earlier than anticipated, and Gwen was excited about the prospect of spending the evening with her fiancée and son. Between Ava’s writing and Gwen’s shooting schedule, it felt like eons since they’d had time together. Except now Ava was ruining it by proposing the preposterous.
“Oh, don’t sound so affronted!” Ava bent down to retrieve a pint of ice cream from the freezer.
If Gwen had not been on the defensive, she would have appreciated the perfect curve of Ava’s ass in her jeans. Instead, she was running through the hundred or so reasons why a repeat of game night was an absurd death wish.
“The last one was fine,” Ava insisted, twisting open the ice cream.
Gwen reached for the small tub before Ava could just plunge a spoon into it. “I seem to recall an argument, someone storming out, and…a house fire.”
Ava winced. “All of those things did…technically happen. But I put the fire out before it caused any real damage.”
Gwen plucked a bowl from the dishwasher and started scooping ice cream into it. She licked some off her thumb before handing the bowl to Ava, who took it a little sheepishly.
“Darling, I think the damage was done when you suggested Jenga.”
“I just… I know that you and Nic don’t exactly get along and—”
“You can’t swoop in and fix this one, Swiftwing.” Gwen shrugged. “Nicole and I are just…different people. I certainly respect her and her…opinions.” That last part might have been a lie. Many of Nicole’s opinions were unfortunate. “I just don’t…”
“Like her.”
“Understand her. And forcing us into insipid group activities certainly doesn’t help.”
“Was the last one really that bad?” Ava asked, licking peach gelato off the spoon.
“I’m surprised nobody died.”
“Of fun?”
Gwen leaned in to kiss the sticky sweetness from Ava’s lips. “You’re adorable when you’re being obtuse.”
Ava clutched onto Gwen’s shirt, keeping her close. Gwen could feel the smile against her lips before Ava deepened the kiss. Gwen sighed and melted against her. Three years and Ava still managed to undo her with a single kiss. They stumbled back against the fridge, causing a few of the magnets to fall and clatter against the kitchen tiles. Ava wrapped her free, non-ice-cream-holding hand around Gwen’s waist, and for a glorious moment, Gwen forgot what it was they were talking about.
Until Ava pulled back and said: “You know we could do it for my birthday?”
Her expression was all innocent and hopeful, and Gwen hated herself for being so easily manipulated just because her fiancée happened to be sunshine incarnate.
Gwen’s sigh was deep and long-suffering. “And how long would this game night take? Because I have plans for your birthday that do not involve cards and dice.” Gwen licked her lips slowly, making sure Ava got the point.
“Like two games, definitely not more than three. And…no Jenga this time, promise.” Ava smiled sweetly. “And after I’ll let you shower me with naked gifts and birthday sex.”
“Oh, you’ll let me?” Gwen leaned in again and pressed her lips against the space under Ava’s ear, earning a little shiver. “How very generous of you.”
Ava laughed softly as Gwen’s mouth moved down her neck, placing featherlight kisses as she went. “I can be very gen—”
The front door slammed shut, followed by, “I’m coming in. Don’t be doing anything gross!”
Gwen immediately broke into a smile. She hadn’t expected Luke home so early.
“Too late,” Ava yelled and buried her face in Gwen’s neck before making exaggerated smacking sounds. “Grossness abounds!”
Luke walked in and dramatically covered his eyes with his forearm. “Is it safe?”
Gwen huffed in faux annoyance and shoved Ava off her. “Sweetheart, I thought I was fetching you.”
Luke shrugged off his backpack and tossed it on the couch, where it promptly slid off onto the floor. “Jake’s mom was coming this way, so she dropped me off.”