Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 122.

Y/N's pov~

"Excellent. But watch your arm position, Y/N. You know how it should be," he said. And I did know. But my arms weren't as flexible as Clark seemed to think. Or maybe I was just being clumsy. He bounced a tennis ball on the ground, his movement a graceful puppet show he had mastered.

With a heavy sigh, I accepted my fate and resigned myself to never achieving a serve with high speed and spin, no matter how many times Clark demonstrated it to me. Even the sunglasses perched in my hair seemed to lack motivation as they teetered on the edge of falling off. But I didn't need them anymore as the sun was already setting, and cast an orange glow on Clark's white polo shirt. His black shorts fit him like a tailored glove, and the tennis socks hugged his ankles just the right way. Even if I wouldn't have known Clark, I would have thought he was a professional player. And he was, indeed. Even though he couldn't get me far today, he was still a great teacher. His gaze followed the yellow-green ball, counting the bounces on the ground, barely noticing how my body had long since given up. But sooner or later, he noticed, and his expression of concern was the opposite of his usual demeanor.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He tossed the ball aside, causing the net at the edge of the court to wobble, and hurried over to me with quick, nimble steps.

I had set my racket aside by now, and my shoulders slumped from the effort and repeated failures. For the past 45 minutes, I had been doing my best, and several times, I had come close to pulling the racket over Clark's head if he thought I would ever master the serve like him.

"It's too hard!" My whining echoed across to the next court, where two boys chased after their ball.

"Oh, come on. Practice makes perfect, and you're almost there." We both knew his lie was just to make me feel better because if my pathetic swing meant "almost there" to him, then England and Australia were side by side.

So, the pout remained on my face, and soon enough, Clark had picked up my designated racket and pressed it into my hands. He adjusted the grip, and I watched, letting him do the work because I really wasn't in the mood to try again. Once the grip was secure, he stood behind me. Close. Closer than in the first hour he had given me. He wrapped his arms around mine, his large palms resting over the back of hands, and he helped me slowly and gently follow through, until I at least got the idea of what it must feel like to execute it somewhat correctly.

"And now this-" his breath was hot in my ear, tickling the hairs on my neck as we stayed in that position. "Feels right." He stated, staring me in the eyes as if he wasn't talking about the swing. About the way my arm was bent thanks to his help, and my racket firm in my palms.
No he wasn't, but if he wasn't, what was he talking about?

Tiny ants crawled down my back, tickling the hairs and seeping through my skin as the moist breath reached my neck. Or should I just leave it in a cold shivers?

Somewhere between swinging the racket and finding the right position, our lips drew closer, and our breaths became one—calm, steady, and heavy. Our mouths hovered close, brushing, as we both hesitated, exploring the possibility of what could be. Of how a kiss would feel... My mind was so clouded, barely registering what was happening until the loud thud of 12 grams of fine glass meeting the coated tennis court brought my senses back to reality.

I broke free from Clark's grasp, my foot crushing the cheap sunglasses I had bought at the beach a few weeks ago. I couldn't care less because I had just experienced a moment with Clark that felt almost intimate. I had felt the brush of his lips and the fusion of our bodies. I had almost given in to our desire and embarked on something that could have destroyed my marriage.

"Good game," Clark retrieved the tennis ball from the corner. I nodded, taking a hurried gulp of water while he remained composed. "Yeah, I think I've got the hang of it now," I lied, just to avoid making the moment awkward or having to talk about it.