“I have a lot riding on this!” Luke grouses, but he follows me anyway.
I scowl at him. “Like what?”
Ian jogs up to us. “Like $100 and bragging rights? But I won’t take your money. It’s enough to see you squirm,” he laughs, his hazel eyes dancing.
“Fuck you,” Luke fumes but gives into his exhaustion and lies back on the green concrete. “I guess I need more exercise.”
“When do you head off again?” I ask.
“US Tournament of Champions next month,” Ian says, after he chugs some water. “It’s the first one I’ve done in a while—I’ve been taking time off to improve my serve.”
“That’s intense,” I say. Luke hasn’t moved from his spot on the ground.
“Yeah,” Ian agrees. “Sometimes it gets tiring, but then I get on another court, and it feels like home. Like I’m meant to be there.”
I understand that concept intimately.
“Well, we’ll be cheering for you, man,” I say out loud.
“Not me,” Luke groans. “I’ll be hoping you fall flat on your face.”
Ian chuckles. “Luke’s always been a sore loser.”
“That’s for sure,” I say.
“Leave me alone in my misery, assholes,” Luke gripes.
“Why don’t you get off your ass so we can go grab some burgers?” I ask.
“Only if there’s booze involved,” Luke says. “Otherwise, I’ll stay here, thanks.”
Ian and I share a look and roll our eyes as if we planned it. Ian’s a cool guy. I wouldn’t mind hanging out with him again.
“I saw that, fuckers,” Luke growls. “Stop ganging up on me. Give me a sec.”
Twenty minutes later, we roll into the parking lot of Bill’s.
“I haven’t seen Bill in ages,” Ian says. “I feel terrible that I haven’t stopped by before now. Sophia and I practically lived here when we were younger. His burgers are basically the flavor of my childhood; I can already taste the grilled onions.”
I guess I’m not the only one that thinks of this as a safe space.
“How is Sophia?” I ask. Until Ian mentioned her name, I completely forgot he had a younger sister who lived in town.
“She’s great! She’s kicking ass as a reporter for theBlackwell Times.”
“Just buy me a beer,” Luke says as he crawls out of my car. Ian and I glance at each other, smirking.
Swinging open the glass door, I’m blasted once again by delicious smells that fill me withnostalgia.
Because of Lucy, I’ve already had Bill’s twice in the past week. Just that reminder of her sends a surge of happiness through me.
Bill greets us as the three of us enter. Unsurprisingly, his eyes go straight to Ian. “Luke, Jake, welcome back! And Ian, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Yeah, man, so glad to see you!” Ian says. Bill comes out from behind the counter and gives Ian a bear hug.
“I still have your autographed picture on the wall,” Bill says. “We’re so proud of you, son.”
“Thanks, Bill. That means a lot.” Ian blushes.
