Read The Unforgiving Minute for Free Online

glass and apropos of precisely nothing. “They wanted to commiserate, but they thought I should be so pleased I got as far as the fourth round.”
    “You might not like me saying this, Ryan—”
    “But you’re going to say it anyway.”
    She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “A year ago, you’d have thought the same thing. You’re playing a hell of a lot better now, sure, but your attitude’s changed as well.”
    “I’ve never enjoyed losing,” he protested.
    “Who does? But now you know you’re damn good and on a good day you can go up against any of the big boys and beat them.”
    “I’d like to go up against big boy Josh Andrews,” he mused.
    “Damn it, Ryan, why did I think alcohol and you were a good idea?”
    “Or Mitch. I don’t think that belt buckle’s compensation in his case.”
    “You do realize that the tournament program isn’t a catalog for you to pick boyfriends from?”
    “It’s not?” Ryan was aghast. “Why doesn’t anybody tell me anything?”
    “And since when are you and Chase Mitchell best buddies, anyway?”
    He looked at her.
    She bounced her eyebrows suggestively. “I hear things.”
    “Lily.”
    “It sounds like he stole you away for a heart-to-heart. Anything you want to tell me, Ryan?”
    “Uh….”
    “And let me remind you, that wasn’t a question. Come on, tell me: since when are you and he best friends, and how does he score out of ten?”
    “ Elena! We haven’t— It’s not— Damn it, woman!” He reached up the bed for a pillow and flung it at her. It didn’t dim her grin.
    “He just came up to me the other day in the lounge and started chatting. He’s a really nice guy.”
    “And?”
    Ryan sighed. “And nothing,” he said.
    “You sound disappointed by that.”
    “He’s hot, you know? When he’s talking to you, when he’s looking at you, it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. That’s pretty sexy.”
    “And those long legs, muscled arms, and ass you could bounce a quarter off have nothing to do with it, of course.”
    “Are you crazy? They have everything to do with it.”
    “I thought your heart belonged to Andrews after your love-in at the restaurant. I can’t keep up with you,” Elena complained.
    He thought again about Josh emerging from the ice bath, clothes clinging in a way that was somehow even more enticing than if he’d been completely naked. Although, was he insane? Nothing could be more enticing than Josh Andrews completely naked.
    A piece of lime hit him between the eyes. “Your eyes are glazed and you’re practically drooling, Betancourt. I don’t want to know.”
    “Uh, yeah,” he said, and pulled himself together. “So what’s going on with you?”
    He’d meant it as a general question, but Elena fidgeted and looked away.
    “What?” he demanded. “Tell me, Sanchez, or I’ll tickle it out of you.”
    “It’s nothing much,” she said. “Just Marc Porcallo’s asked me to partner him in the mixed doubles at Roland Garros.”
    “That’s awesome!” He pulled her into a hug.
    “Yeah, hopefully,” she said, her face alight with excitement.
    Elena didn’t want to say more than that in case somehow it jinxed it, so they ended up in a slightly drunk and giggly pile on the bed, talking about ordering room service. Elena’s phone buzzed and she read the text that had come in. “I should go,” she said. “Remember what I said about moving on, and I’ll see you soon.”
    As he rolled into bed a few minutes later, Ryan thoughts were no longer dominated by his performance in the match that had so consumed him only a few hours before, but by Josh and Mitch. He knew it was all harmless fantasy that he could share with Elena in safety. He also knew that even if either of them was gay, the chances of them acting on it with a fellow player on the Tour were slim to zero. Tennis didn’t have the same problems that contact sports did, but the locker-room atmosphere was still the same old