Aspen Ashley: Your pizza and breadsticks are in the oven.

  Kendra laughed and typed.

  Kendra Bowie: Are you going to keep me updated at every step?

  Aspen Ashley: Yes. How else will you know when your food is about to arrive magically at your hotel room door? Remember, pretend your knee is messed up when you open it. Don’t make me look like a liar, Kendra.

  Kendra laughed again.

  Kendra Bowie: But you are a liar, Aspen.

  Aspen Ashley: It was a food-related lie, so it was a good lie.

  Kendra Bowie: You’ll have to explain that one to me.

  Aspen took a minute to respond, so Kendra stood and finally decided to change out of her work clothes and into her sleep clothes. She’d save her shower for the morning. When her phone dinged, she ran and jumped onto the bed, flopping down hard on her stomach with a woof sound before she grabbed it.

  Aspen Ashley: You know how someone cooks you something, and it’s not your thing? Or, it’s actually objectively bad, but when they ask you how it is or if you like it, you lie and tell them it’s good so that you don’t hurt their feelings? Good lie.

  Kendra Bowie: But what if they think you love it, so they make it for you again and again? Do you just have to keep eating it because you never tell them the truth?

  Aspen Ashley: The only person who’s cooked me that many meals is my mother, and I didn’t have a choice. If she cooked it, I ate it.

  Kendra liked this small opening that Aspen had given her.

  Kendra Bowie: None of your girlfriends were big cooks?

  Aspen Ashley: Not really, no. But I also like cooking enough, so I cooked for them whenever I was home. Not that I have a ton of ex-girlfriends.

  Kendra Bowie: Did you lie to them if they did cook you something you didn’t like?

  Aspen Ashley: Once or twice, maybe. And they were so proud of what they’d cooked. How do I really know it’s not great? Maybe everyone else would’ve loved it, and I’m the problem? Food is super subjective. Your pizza, breadsticks, and your lemon tea are on their way, by the way. Twenty minutes out.

  “Lemon tea?” Kendra said to herself.

  Aspen must have noticed that whenever Kendra was working, she generally had a lemon-flavored iced tea with her. Aspen had noticed, and she’d ordered it for her. Kendra melted a little more.

  Kendra Bowie: If I cooked you dinner sometime, would you lie to me if you didn’t like it? And thank you.

  She decided that since they were clearly on their way with this conversation, she might as well put it out there and hit send.

  Aspen Ashley: If you cooked me dinner, what would it be?

  Kendra smiled and shook her head.

  Kendra Bowie: What do you like? Let’s start there.

  Aspen Ashley: I’m not picky, remember.

  Kendra sucked air between her teeth because Aspen hadn’t just given her a place to start.

  Kendra Bowie: You’re a healthy eater, though, right?

  Aspen Ashley: Generally, yes. I tend to stick to lean meats and green leaves, unfortunately, but I throw in fruit to help make the greens taste better.

  Kendra Bowie: Spinach salad with homemade fruity dressing and some kind of chicken. I can cook it on the new grill I still need to buy and make a sauce. Something with balsamic, maybe? Is that healthy enough?

  Aspen Ashley: That sounds amazing. You’re making me hungry, and I’ve actually eaten dinner.

  Kendra laughed and typed.

  Kendra Bowie: Maybe when I get that grill, you can come over, and I’ll make it for us.

  While waiting for Aspen to reply, she opened her Amazon app, found that wish list for the house she’d started making months ago, located the gas grill she’d thought was way too expensive but wanted anyway, and added it to her cart. Kendra had a credit card it could go on, and she had the idea that it would be worth it. She picked the shipping date and clicked the order button. Then, she went back to her messages to see that Aspen had replied.

  Aspen Ashley: I’d like that. Also, apparently, Mike, the delivery guy that I tipped really well, ran some red lights or something because he’s there. It says he’s nearby anyway, so prepare for the knock on the door.

  Kendra Bowie: Thank you, Aspen. This was really very nice. Unnecessary, but nice.

  Aspen Ashley: No problem. I’ll let you go so you can eat and get some sleep. I should get some rest, too. I have an early practice tomorrow.

  Kendra hadn’t expected that and was disappointed because she’d hoped that they could text while she ate, but she wouldn’t keep Aspen up when she had to practice the following morning.

  Kendra Bowie: Okay. I’ll see you when I get home? And thank you, again, for my dinner.

  Aspen Ashley: Yeah, I’ll be here. And you’re welcome. Good night, Kendra. Sweet dreams.

  Kendra rolled over onto her back and sighed like a movie character just as there was a knock on her door.

  ◆◆◆

  The following day, Kendra flew across the country, only to have to do it again the next day to get back to LA. In New York, she covered the game and watched the home team get a solid win by thirteen. She did her job, and she did it well, but she had other things on her mind. Namely, the fact that she missed Aspen. She’d wanted to text her again to tell her that the pizza had been good, but it just would’ve been an excuse to start another conversation, and Aspen needed to focus on practice and finding a new coach, so Kendra had resisted.

  When she’d gotten back to her hotel room after another long day, she wondered if Aspen would text her about seeing the game and her on TV, or if she’d ask Kendra if she’d eaten real food or something because it seemed like something Aspen would do. By eleven, though, when she didn’t have any texts, Kendra decided to give up on that idea and just text Aspen herself. Aspen was three hours behind her, so it wasn’t too late there, and she wouldn’t be asleep yet, so Kendra decided to give it a try and see if the woman would respond.

  Kendra Bowie: Hey. Any chance you’ve seen my sprinklers going off in the morning? I think I turned the automatic system on correctly, but I forgot to check that they’re going off, so I’m worried I’ve killed my grass already.

  It was the lamest excuse for a text message she could think to send, and she had no idea where the idea for it had come from, but she hit send before she could stop herself.

  Aspen Ashley: I haven’t seen the sprinklers go off, and I don’t think your grass is actually wet, but I did see two men dropping off a huge package at your front door about ten minutes ago. I could tell what it was from the box, so, in case you didn’t know yet, your new grill is here.

  Kendra’s eyes went wide. She’d specifically picked the date so it wouldn’t arrive until she got home. She texted Aspen back to tell her that it wasn’t supposed to get there today.

  Aspen Ashley: Well, you’ve obviously got that next-day shipping working for you because it’s sitting on the sidewalk leading up to your porch.

  “Shit,” she said to herself and went to type, but then saw that Aspen was typing, so she stopped.

  Aspen Ashley: Want me to drag it into my garage until you get home so that no one steals it? I have a dolly, so it’s not a problem.

  Kendra Bowie: I would love that. And I’ll cook you a meal a day on that thing for a week if you do that for me.

  Aspen Ashley: It’s not a problem. Now, tell me, and be honest here… Did you eat more than a granola bar for dinner?

  CHAPTER 15

  “Thanks, Margo. I appreciate the ball to the face,” DJ joked as she wiped at her nose to check for blood.

  “Sorry. My bad,” Margo replied.

  They had a few people they called sometimes to work out together when they wanted to practice against another team. Margo and Whitney were usually first up on their list because they’d just retired and weren’t on the tour, so Aspen and DJ didn’t have to worry about giving any secrets away anymore, and the two women also wanted to stay in the game and in shape, so they were usually available for early morning practices as long as they didn’t have to get to their coaching jobs early themselves. Margo had just taken over as an assistant coach of a college beach team, and Whitney was the new head coach for a high school indoor team. They were great to play off of, and when they’d been players on the tour, they’d given Aspen and DJ a few matches to worry about.

  “You said you wanted us to play for real,” Whitney added.

  “Yeah. Yeah.”

  When DJ had gone up for the swing, Margo had promptly blocked her, and the ball had gone straight back into DJ’s face. She was fine, though, and there was no blood to stop them from playing.

  “Can we run through a few serves?” Aspen asked, walking back to the service line. “I want to finish with that.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Whitney replied. “Hey, Margo and I were invited to this dinner thing tonight. Do you two want to go? It’s at Queso Fresco, so not at someone’s house or anything.”

  “Who’s going to be there?” DJ asked.

  “You need more than just me and Whit?” Margo asked with a smirk.

  “No, I just want to know what I’m getting myself into. I might not like the people who’ll be there.”

  “Like who? Chase?” Margo teased. “No, that can’t be right because you really like Chase.”

  “Shut up.” DJ laughed.

  Aspen smiled and readied her serve.

  “It’s a bunch of former players, mainly, with a few still on the tour, whoever happens to be in town and available tonight. Technically, it’s someone’s birthday, which is why we’re doing it, but I forgot whose birthday it is, so we’re just going to go and hang out,” Whitney explained.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” DJ replied.

  “Chase will be there, you know?”

  “He will?” DJ asked, suddenly very interested.

  “Um… Service,” Aspen reminded them loudly, trying to get everyone to pay attention to the remainder of their practice.

  When they wrapped it up, they left with DJ confirming her attendance at the party that night and Aspen saying that she was a maybe. After all, Aspen’s crush wasn’t going to be there, unlike DJ’s very obvious one that almost everyone on tour knew about. Chase Cunningham was newly single, too, after ending a relationship with his girlfriend and making sure everyone on tour knew that he was available. Aspen wasn’t his number one fan because there was typically only one reason why a guy would blast that he was available like that in a tent full of players, and that wasn’t because he was looking for another serious relationship.

  “So, you’re worried?” Kendra asked.

  Aspen was standing on one side of her fence, and Kendra was leaning over the other. After her practice, Aspen had gone home to get in some gym time and have lunch, but she’d heard someone outside and had looked out the back window. Seeing nothing but still hearing strange sounds, she’d walked outside and noticed Kendra on her patio, which Aspen couldn’t see from her window. Kendra was setting up the new grill she’d just bought, which made Aspen smile because she was pretty sure Kendra had expedited that purchase just so they could share a meal she planned to cook on it. She’d called out, and Kendra had joined her at the fence where Aspen had caught her up on her morning.

  “I’m not worried-worried. I just don’t think he wants what she wants, you know? DJ’s had a thing for him for a while now, but he had a girlfriend, and now, he’s acting like he’s just earned his freedom from prison or something, making sure every woman knows that he’s available. I’m pretty sure he’s hooked up with a few players already. And DJ likes him; she doesn’t just want sex.”

  “She’s an adult, though, right?”

  “Yeah. But she’s also my friend and my partner, so if something happens and it impacts her game, I’m in trouble.”

  “Just going to some party tonight doesn’t mean that something’s going to happen,” Kendra reasoned. “Besides, did she specifically tell you that she wasn’t interested in just sex with him or anyone?”

  “No, but she told me she was ready for a relationship.”

  “Maybe she is while also being up for something else, too. Assuming she hasn’t said that she doesn’t want to just hook up with Chase, you probably need to just let her do whatever she’s going to do and hope for the best.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Aspen sighed and leaned over the fence. “I wasn’t going to do anything to try to stop her. I was just debating if it would be best to stay home and not go myself, or go to be there for her in case she needs me.”

  “What would she need you for?”

  Aspen laughed softly and replied, “Okay. Good point. DJ is way better at making friends than I am. And she’s a total extravert, so she’ll find people to talk to in any room.”

  “You’re not like that?” Kendra asked. “That surprises me about you.”

  “How, exactly?” she asked back, really wanting to know that answer.

  “I don’t know. You just seem to enjoy having people around. I always see you talking to someone new whenever I’m working.”

  “That’s because I’m working,” Aspen replied.

  “I don’t–”

  “Kendra, I’m on. That’s how I view it. When I’m at a tournament, whether I’m on the court, being interviewed by you, or in the tent before my next match, I’m on. I have to be. We’re on the beach – everyone can see inside that tent when that flap is open. So, if I look annoyed, upset, bored, uninterested, or something else, and someone sees that, suddenly, I’m an asshole, arrogant, or just there to play and not socialize because I think I’m better than everyone else. When I have to leave that tent to go to the bathroom or get food, I’m right there in the open with fans and press and other players. If I’m not on, I risk fans being disappointed, players thinking I’m a dick, and the press, aka people like you, reporting that I’ve got an attitude. The male players don’t have the same problem, but the female ones do. We have to be on all the time. The moment I’m in a car alone, though, or with DJ and a driver, or even other players I know who get it, I turn it off. When I get to my hotel room, and it’s either just me or me and DJ, I’m quiet, reserved, scrolling social media, running through our mistakes that day, or listening to music or something. I told you, I don’t go out much these days. But even when I did a few years ago, that wasn’t something I did because it came naturally. I did it because everyone else was, and I thought I had to. Yeah, I had fun sometimes. It’s not that I don’t have fun. It’s just that the world was made for people like DJ, the extraverted folks who love that kind of life. It wasn’t made for the people who enjoy a quiet night in or who don’t want to socialize at work. You know the funny thing?”

  “What?” Kendra asked almost gently.

  “Everyone always expects of the introverts to be the ones to bend or change. They tell us we’re too quiet or too shy, that we shouldn’t want to spend time alone or at home because we’re missing out on things. We spend years of our lives listening to that stuff and feeling like we’re less than, not right somehow, or that we need to change. But no one has ever asked the more extraverted among us to maybe make the world more comfortable for people like you and me. Imagine if they did, and they just let us be instead of pressuring us to attend things to fit in – we might actually want to go to a party or a restaurant every so often and feel better about staying home when we need to recharge.”

  Kendra seemed a little taken aback, but she nodded.

  “You said you and me,” she spoke finally.

  “Yeah, you and me. You’re like me, aren’t you? You’re on when you need to be, but when you don’t, you’re at home sipping coffee by yourself or putting together a new grill.” Aspen nodded toward the patio. “You’re totally content on your own.”

  “That’s true, I guess.”

  “So, want to come with me?”

  “What?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “To the dinner thing. You don’t have to, of course. Up to you. DJ is going, so I do think I should be there for her, even if it’s just for her to talk to if Chase turns her down or goes home with someone else. I have no idea what’s going to happen there, but I am DJ’s closest friend on tour, so if she needs me there, I should be, you know?”

  “Spoken like a true introvert who needs to be there for her extraverted friend. What about that empowering speech you just gave?” Kendra asked, teasing Aspen a little.

  “It’s still empowering. I just don’t want DJ to be sad, and if she is, I want to be there for her.”

  “You are a really good person, Aspen Ashley.” Kendra smiled. “And I’ll go with you, if you want.”

  “Yeah?” she asked, smiling back wide.

  “Sure. I’m not staying late or anything, though.”

  “Me neither. Want to ride together? You can be my excuse.”

  “Your what?”

  “You have to get up early or something, and I drove us, so I’m your ride back home – my excuse for leaving whenever we want.”

  “Oh, sure. Okay.”

  “Not that I’m using you for that. That’s not what–”

  “It’s okay, Aspen. I actually want to go.”

  “You do?”

  “Honestly, I liked being on the beach and just playing around with you and DJ. It’s the first time I’ve done that in a very long time. So, I like the idea of hanging out with some players tonight. Do you think it’ll be weird for them, though, with me there?”

  “No. Why would it be?”

  “I interview them for matches.”

  “Kendra, we literally compete with each other in the mornings for money and, sometimes, points to qualify for things like the Olympics that most of us dream about getting to, and then hang out at night like nothing happened that day. No one is going to care about you being there. And I mean that in a good way.”