Love on the Line (Beaumont Legacy #2)

12. Maya

Chapter twelve

Maya

W as Maya embarrassed about her display in the hot tub yesterday? Sure. Had she known when she’d gotten in that she would do something like that? She would have liked to believe the answer was no. But she just couldn’t shake the feeling that being in the hot tub with him had chased away the feelings of powerlessness and intense sadness that’d still found her, even if to a lesser extent, since she’d seen him last.

The sadness had still been there, yes, in a miniscule form that she wasn’t sure would ever go away. Just like the sliver of grief she’d befriended after her mother passed, always present but not necessarily in a bad way. It’d stuck around, but Maya had learned how to function with it.

But something about being in Cooper’s presence and conversing with him sent that feeling of powerlessness scurrying away. He made her feel capable and intelligent and worthy. It wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting, especially when the only feelings she’d had for him before then had been lust-induced.

And if she was being honest, putting on that show for Cooper had taken away that weird, little sister feeling that’d been brought on by his helping her with the charity. It’d made her feel like a woman who was his equal, and she rather liked that feeling. It’d also started a small storm in her stomach that didn’t want to go away, brewing larger and larger.

Which was terrifying. Especially now that they were working together, she wasn’t sure feelings of any kind for him were a good idea.

Maya smiled at the man in question, who held the door to Serve It Up open for her, and she tried to shove down those rapidly surfacing thoughts. Cool air hit her as she noticed the children milling about, some chasing each other across the center. When she approached the front desk, the middle-aged woman with dark, frizzy hair behind it smiled wide. She looked like she’d just come inside, sweat beading along her dark skin, and when Maya looked at her nametag, it read Viola .

“Good afternoon. I’m—”

“Maya Beaumont. It’s really you.” Wonder painted Viola’s face, and she extended her hand. Maya shook it as firmly as she could with her wrist in a brace.

“Hi, Viola. It’s so nice to meet you in person.”

“And I am over the moon to meet you! I can’t believe we have a real celebrity here today.”

Maya tried not to laugh, knowing Cooper, who stood right beside her, was far more of a celebrity than her. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I’m excited to be here. This is my cofounder, Cooper Hayes.”

Cooper extended his hand, a charming smile on his face. “Hi, great to meet you. Thanks for all your work for the charity already. We really appreciate it.”

There was no recognition as she shook his hand, though her smile stayed wide. “Great to meet you too. We’re so excited to host these lessons, and I’ve already started working on advertising. The moment your charity has a name, you let me know, because I’m going to be plastering signs everywhere it’s legal.”

Maya loved Viola’s energy, thankful to have found someone so eager to help so early on. Especially someone so entrenched in the local tennis community.

“Also, I know you okayed the rate I sent over. Do you want to take a look at the courts before we draw up the paperwork and finalize days and hours?”

“That would be perfect , thank you.” Maya followed Viola out into an area with benches and vending machines, noting there were sixteen courts as the website had indicated, all well-kept.

As they walked, Maya wondered aloud, “Viola, I meant to ask—do you currently have any coaching spots available? Now that I’m not on the tour, I’d love to do some extra coaching work.”

Cooper’s knuckles brushed against hers as they walked side by side, and Maya didn’t know whether it was accidental or not.

A part of her hoped not.

“I can let you know if I hear of anything. Honestly, if I send out your qualifications in our newsletter, you’re going to have people clamoring to take private lessons with you.” Viola shot Maya a wide grin. “Speaking of your qualifications, what was it like beating Anya Morozov in the Wimbledon first round last year?”

Maya contained her grimace, not at the mention of Anya, her kind-of friend who was now seeing her almost-ex, but at the reminder of the match that had started all of this. When she’d first strained the ligament in her wrist. Despite the painful reminder, nothing ugly or dark reared its head inside her or tried to pull her back down into that old pit of despair.

“Anya’s actually a friend of mine so it was a little bittersweet.” Lie. She’d loved wiping that conniving smirk off Anya’s face. “But it was a fun match for sure. I didn’t play my best in the second round, though.” Because of the pain in her wrist, but also because she’d been playing the world number one.

“I stand by the fact that your second serve in the third set at two-all was in. I know they have machines for line judging nowadays, but it looked like it was a mile in,” Viola declared, arms crossing over her chest .

Maya was impressed Viola remembered something seemingly so insignificant to anyone but her. She thought only she and her coaches would remember that painful double fault. That’d been the change in momentum her opponent had needed to move on to the next round.

“Well, I don’t know about that. It was definitely a tough loss, but I’m proud of the way I played considering…my injury.”

No look of pity, just understanding. “You played incredibly. Just like in the first round of the Prague Open against Taylor Whitmore.”

And on and on they went, talking about Maya’s tournament wins and losses, even after they reached the end of the sixteen-court facility. Viola knew Delilah’s and Nicola’s stats from the past couple of years as well, and while she said she didn’t watch men’s tennis much, she’d seen Ryan here and there. She also had a friend of a friend who knew Maya’s old coach.

It was nice having someone in the tennis world to chat with, who understood when she made mention of her heroes and the people who’d inspired her. The girls had been busy the last couple of weeks, so she hadn’t been able to talk to them as much, though their group chat was as lively as ever.

When Maya turned to check on Cooper, he was leaning against the gate of the last court, a mischievous smile on his face. He looked at Viola as he asked, “Should we have Maya show us her stuff? I know I’d love to see her coach. ”

Viola looked between the two. “Sure! You can use this court and the balls in that basket there.” She pointed at a basket full of balls beside the net with three rackets leaning up against it.

Cooper cut his eyes to Maya, then said, “What do you say, Mai? I seem to remember a certain bet where a tennis lesson was promised.”

Maya frowned at him, looking him up and down. Granted, in those tight jeans and even tighter fitted T-shirt, he looked better than any man she’d ever met on a tennis court, but it definitely wasn’t appropriate attire for a lesson.

“You’re not exactly dressed for tennis, Coop.”

“Oh, come on. Just a couple of balls. Call it testing out the courts, and then I’ll take half a lesson later.”

She knew the moment his smirk widened that she was going to say yes. Still, she made an effort to grumble about it as she shut the gate to the court behind her, Viola opting to stand behind to watch.

Maya picked up a ball and bounced it with one of the rackets, happy when there was no prick of pain inside the brace. Even happier to enjoy the singing of strings against the ball.

She’d missed it far too much.

The court felt exactly right under her tennis shoes, and blood rushed through her like she was returning home. Like every cell in her body recognized she was back in her safe space.

Maya passed the racket to Cooper, holding back a laugh at his mismatched outfit. “Come stand on the baseline. ”

She tossed a ball toward him to see how he’d fare. He managed to land the racket on the ball, but not even his athleticism could make up for his poor form, and the ball went flying onto another—thankfully empty—court. Maya saw Viola behind the fence suppressing a laugh, and Maya was attempting to do the same.

“Okay! Good start.” Maya approached Cooper, who was glaring down at the racket like it was its fault he didn’t know how to hit a tennis ball. She grasped the head of the racket and began moving his fingers so his grip was a little better.

“Now set your feet like this.” She widened her stance, bending her knees. He followed her.

“Good. Now as the ball comes toward you, you’ll want to set your racket back.” She motioned so her imaginary racket faced the fence behind her. He copied her again.

“Yes! Watch the ball as it comes toward you. When it bounces and gets to its highest point, hit it and follow through, like this.”

She did the motion, and once again he copied her. She stepped away and grabbed a ball from the basket, tossing it toward him. He did the steps, just as she’d shown him, making good contact with the ball, but it still soared into the far fence.

“That’s better! And that’s just a forehand. Almost everything changes for your backhand.”

“Let me perfect this first. Fix my grip again.”

She approached him, looking at his hand on the racket. It hadn’t changed much, but she shifted his pointer finger so it was a bit higher above the rest of his fingers. When she grinned up at him, he was already looking at her, a serious expression on his face. His lips curved into a smile as she scanned his face, her hands still on his, holding the racket with him.

“You’re doing really well.” Her grin widened. “For a football player.”

His eyes looked down toward her lips, just a flick in their direction before they were back on the rest of her face, but she felt her whole body ignite, that brewing storm growing antsy in her belly.

Cooper grinned cockily, and warmth bloomed in her chest, slow and steady as it spread. “If we were playing against each other, I’d let you score all the points so I’d always be in love.”

Maya smacked a hand over her mouth to stop herself from cackling at his ridiculous words. She took a step back, needing to put some distance between herself and the man who warmed her whole body from the inside out. “How long have you had that one percolating?”

He shrugged, bringing the racket back so it was centered in front of him. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you. Next ball, please.”

She fed him a ball, and another and another. Then she showed him how to hit a backhand, all under the watchful eye of Viola, who still looked a little awe-struck that Maya was there with her.

Maybe it was the person she was coaching, or maybe it was coaching in general, but Maya was finally beginning to feel another little piece of herself falling back into place. She laughed at his very tall, athletic form looking so unathletic as he attempted her sport, and for the first time in a while, she was so excited about something that the near-constant emotional turmoil was almost fading away.

She might not ever feel the jubilation she had while on the tour, but maybe she could be happy in another way. She could be back in her community again, even if not in the same capacity. And maybe that could be enough.