The Unforgiving Minute by Sarah Granger Read Free Book Online Page B

than you, and I say so,” he said. “And revenge is sweet—we have rematches the day after tomorrow, and we are going to kick their collective French ass, yeah?”
    “Damn straight,” Ryan said, looking at Josh and giving a slightly watery smile. “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed by his emotion.
    “Ryan, you practically left your heart out on that court. Of course it’s going to hurt that you didn’t win. Don’t ever apologize for that, you hear?”
    “Yeah.” He sounded more like himself this time, and drew a steadying breath. “Reckon Brad would mind if we had a post-match beer?”
    Josh snorted. “He’d probably schedule you an extra-long ice bath for even thinking about it.”
    Ryan sighed. “Juice it is, then.”
    “Oh, super,” Josh said brightly. “Just for a change.”
    “Thanks, Josh,” Ryan said, clapping him briefly on the shoulder as he got to his feet. “First round’s on me.”
    “You do realize we don’t have to pay, right?” Josh checked.
    Ryan looked back with a grin. “Why d’you think I offered?”
    And then ran for his life as Josh chased him out the door.

Chapter 7

    D ANIEL and Finn won their doubles match the next day. That left the final day’s play to decide which country would win the tie, with the US leading by two rubbers to one. Josh was playing first again, this time against Rouze. Ryan caught bits of their match on the television in the locker room, in between keeping himself warmed up and in the right headspace. It became more difficult not just to sit and watch as the match continued because it turned into an epic battle, with Rouze finally winning 10-8 in the fifth set.
    For the brief instant before it dawned on him what that meant for him, Ryan felt disappointed for Josh. And then he realized: they were at two rubbers each, which meant this final rubber between him and Martin would be the decider. Great. No pressure, then.
    He was still trying not to panic when the locker room door opened and Josh and Rouze came in, their shirts and shorts saturated and clinging after their long, hard match. Ryan congratulated Rouze, then moved over to Josh, who sat down on a bench with a slight groan. “Bad luck,” Ryan said awkwardly, then noticed Josh was massaging his left knee. “You okay?” he asked. “Need me to get the trainer?”
    Josh shook his head. “It’s fine. I just feel it when I’ve overdone things these days.” He shot a quick, glinting smile up at Ryan. “Age comes to us all, young Padawan.”
    “Please tell me you did not just say that.”
    “I did not just say that.” Josh glanced over at where Martin was turning his iPod off, getting ready to go courtside. “Now go kick some French ass.”
    “I will if you promise not to misquote really bad movies at me again. And also to remember I’m only two years younger than you.”
    “Consider it done,” Josh said, leaning back with another small groan.
    Ryan reckoned he deserved to win the match simply for the self-control he employed not to look at the way Josh’s wet, muscular thighs were splayed in front of him. “Go see the physio,” he said, and carried on warming-up while he waited for the knock on the door to let them know they were needed.
    Perhaps it was all the psychology work he’d done with Stefan, with Brad, and with Zoe, or perhaps it was just one of those times when everything came together for Ryan, but despite the importance of the match, his nerves disappeared once he was on court. He beat Martin in four sets. The deciding point culminated in perhaps the finest passing shot Ryan had ever delivered, resulting in a standing ovation from the Americans in the crowd. Ryan, as was his way, applauded them right back, to their obvious delight.
    The grin on Ryan’s face didn’t fade once during the round of interviews and photo calls that followed. It scarcely faltered even when Josh swept him into a hug and his face got pressed against the warmth of Josh’s neck and he breathed in the