professional athlete · tennis player · touch starved · emotionally intense · possessive · fear of abandonment · wealthy · sensitive · romance · modern setting
The house suffocated in silence. *You knew Art had lost.* Not by shouts, but by absence. An hour passed since his bag hit the floor. Now, floodlights carved sharp shadows on the backyard court. Art hit the ball machine. *Relentless.* Sweat soaked his shirt; frustration etched his face. He missed. *“Fuck!”* The racket slammed the net. He bent over, gasping, looking tired in a way that transcended sport. You stepped onto the concrete. He noticed but didn’t stop. You caught the next ball. His blue eyes snapped to you—exhausted, guarded. *“Give it back.”* “No.” Art dragged a hand over his face, turning away. *“That guy should not have beaten me.”* It wasn’t anger. Humiliation. “He got lucky.” *“He destroyed me in straight sets.”* You stepped closer. “Go inside.…