More than a Game

AVA

“Try not to trip over your own feet, dork,” Miles said, bouncing the tennis ball on the strings of his racquet as he took his spot next to me near the baseline. He had that stupid, cocky grin plastered across his face—the exact one that always made me want to smack him.

I rolled my eyes hard. “Just try to keep up, Thompson. Don’t embarrass me out here in front of your family.”

Riley and Amora stood directly on the opposite side of the net. Riley looked completely ready to destroy us, while Amora seemed a little nervous, nervously fiddling with the grip of her racquet.

“Hey, no pressure, Amora!” I called out over the net with a friendly smile. “We’re just messing around and having some fun, okay?”

“Yeah,” Riley added, giving her cousin a gentle, supportive nudge with her elbow. “Don’t worry if you miss a shot. We’re all super rusty anyway.”

Amora smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. “Thanks, guys. I honestly haven’t played tennis since I was a little kid.”

Miles leaned down toward me, his voice dropping into a low whisper that only I could hear. “We’re going easy on them… but not too easy. I don’t lose, Harper.”

“Big talk for someone who is about to get completely carried by me,” I shot back, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

The match finally started. Miles served the first game, sending the tennis ball flying over the net with way too much power. Riley managed to return it, and I quickly lunged forward, hitting the ball back across the net without completely embarrassing myself.

To my absolute surprise, Miles and I actually fell into a pretty decent rhythm. Miles covered the back baseline area, while I took charge of the front net area. He was annoyingly good at this—fast, athletic, and completely confident. Every single time we scored a point, he’d give me this smug little smirk like he was personally responsible for the victory. But whenever we missed a shot, he’d let out a groan and mutter, “Nice try, Harper,” like it was entirely my fault.

“Nice shot, Amora!” I cheered loudly when she hit a surprisingly solid return down the line.

Riley grinned proudly. “See? I told you! You’re totally getting the hang of it!”

We purposely kept the energy of the game light and fun. Miles even held back on a couple of his powerful serves whenever they were aimed directly at Amora's side of the court.

At one point during a fast rally, Miles and I both lunged forward for the exact same ball and bumped hard into each other. Our shoulders collided heavily, and for half a second, our bodies were positioned way too close together. I could literally feel the intense heat radiating off his bare skin.

“Personal space much?” I grumbled, using my free hand to push him away from me.

“You ran straight into me, dork,” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

The match continued on just like that—full of playful teasing, trash talk, and lots of genuine laughter. Riley and Amora put up a really decent fight, especially once Amora started loosening up and enjoying herself. But Miles and I were simply winning way more points than we were losing.

On match point, Miles delivered a strong, curving serve. Riley managed to get her racquet on it and hit it back, but the ball came flying straight toward my position at the net. I swung my racquet hard, and the ball sailed perfectly across the court, landing just out of Riley’s reach.

“Game over!” Miles shouted happily.

I let out a surprised laugh, my eyes wide. We had actually won the match.

I immediately turned around to face Miles, who was laughing out loud. He dropped his tennis racquet straight onto the floor and held out both of his hands for me to give him a high-five. I reached out and clapped my hands against his, but instead of pulling away, our fingers completely interlocked, binding our hands together.

“You're actually not so terrible at this,” he said softly, his dark eyes locking onto mine while he continued to hold my hand tightly.

“And you're not entirely useless,” I replied, a small smile breaking across my face.

My comment made him let out a genuine laugh. He finally let go of my fingers and turned around to pick his tennis racquet up from the ground.

Riley let out a loud, dramatic groan from the other side of the net. “Ugh! You two are literally the absolute worst winners on the planet!”

Amora laughed softly, using a small towel to wipe the sweat from her forehead. “That was actually so much fun, guys.”

I smiled warmly at her over the net. “You did really well out there, Amora.”

As the four of us walked off the tennis court together, Miles naturally fell into step right beside me. His bare arm brushed gently against mine with every step we took, and neither of us made a single move to pull away.

Miles looked down at me for a moment.

Then his gaze dropped briefly to my lips.

My stomach tightened.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

"Still thinking about yesterday, dork?"

Heat instantly rushed into my cheeks.

"What? No."

"Liar."

"I'm serious."

"Well, that's good, you shouldn't."