Easton
Hence why Clark needs to show up tonight.
I can’t run. My trainer will kick my ass.
Easton
Just stand there and use those long arms to hit the damn ball. Rafe, you’re going to need to step it up as his partner.
Rafe
I’m exhausted, and the mac and cheese I had for lunch is not sitting so well.
Dude. You’re my partner, and you need to carry the team tonight. I can’t run. I shouldn’t even be going.
Easton
Suck it up, buttercup. Ball drops in an hour.
Bridger
It’s pickleball, for fuck’s sake.
Easton
Fastest growing sport in America, bitches. See you soon.
When I pulled up at the Rosewood River Country Club for pickleball, I knew it was a bad idea. I would have to make a real effort to find a replacement for the next few weeks. I would be damned if I was going to fuck up my knee for a sport that didn’t pay my bills.
When I made my way out to the court, it was a lot more crowded than usual.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, as Easton dropped his bag on the bench.
“They started hosting a free play night for amateurs. Apparently, it’s just for fun. Why the fuck would anyone be in a league that is just for fun? Who does anything for fun and not for a purpose?” he hissed.
“Um… most humans enjoy having fun,” Henley said. “I think it’s great that anyone can play at any skill level, and it’s not structured as a tournament. There’s less pressure.”
“Says the collegiate tennis champion.” Easton barked out a laugh. “You would not be playing pickleball if it weren’t to win the gold at the end, baby.”
“Easton,” she said, as the corners of her lips turned up, “I did not sign up to play pickleball. You forced me to sub for Archer.”
“And now I’ve got to play because Rafe doesn’t think he can play every game,” Lulu griped. “Hen and I could be inside sipping martinis instead of being yelled at on the court.”
“I second that,” Rafe said. “I would much rather be inside having a cocktail instead of being berated out here. Plus, there’s a shitter in the dining room, so I wouldn’t have to run for it if that mac n cheese decides to go medieval on my insides.”
“Pull your shit together, people. Pun intended.” Easton pointed at Rafe before turning to each of us. “You’re a member of the Chad-Six. Check yourselves.”
Laughter bellowed from everyone just as Bridger and Axel walked over.
“Pep talk?” Axel oozed sarcasm.
“Damn straight.” Easton motioned to the courts. “Let’s get after it.”
“What’s with all the people today?” Bridger grumped.
“Free play for anyone who has a pickleball racquet and no experience,” Easton hissed.
“Chadwick, are you going to stand around and chat or come defend your title?” Barry Wilcox called out from court number three.
