There were things that just needed to happen, even when they shouldn't, Art had put that in his mind—he didn't want to be frustrated by his thoughts, but it was almost too much for him. He felt like he was gonna lose everyone that mattered to him, he was afraid Tashi would leave like Patrick did. But, hey, he was the one who pushed Patrick out, wasn't he?

At least, he was building the career she expected of him, doing everything as it should be done, being a good boy, a true champion, the perfect student for a perfect coach. Even so, there was still something missing, you was missing in his fucked life and goddamnit, he blamed himself for everything—for liking the feel of your body against his, for loving the way your eyes sparkled looking at him and for the way he would have to break your heart in the end of this little love affair.

You were aware of this, of his relationship with his own coach, of the problems he faced and you felt bad for being his outlet, but what could you do? You couldn't look at his smile and hear his sly voice and say "no" when he showed up at your hotel room in the middle of the night.

Fuck the time you decided to travel to Destin, Florida really was one hell of a drug like everyone told you. Great (bad) news, you were wrapped around the little finger of a tennis pro who was only in town for a competition, nothing more, so he would go back to California and you would go back to Texas. Nothing happened.

“I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine.” He mumbled breathlessly against your hair, a fervent laugh escaping him as his fingers caressed the soft skin of your back. Lying on top of him on the hotel bed, your head was on his bare chest. Art's breathing was messy after what you did to him, he wanted to relax and you gave him a reason to be tired, a good reason.

This little love affair would kill you inside until the core, but who cared? You were in Florida and as long as no one knew, well, you both would go on with your normal lives in the coming days, months and years.