I’d been trying to get her on a padel court with me for months. Every time I brought it up, she’d laugh and claim she had “zero coordination” and didn’t want to embarrass herself. But today, she finally gave in.

“If I look like a disaster, you owe me something nice,” she said, twirling the racket in her hand.

I grinned. “Baby, you could trip over your own feet and I’d still think you look hot.”

That earned me an eye roll and a laugh — my favorite combo.

We started easy. I showed her the basics: how to hold the racket, how to let the ball bounce, and how the walls were part of the game. She was a total mess for the first ten minutes, missing easy shots and shrieking every time the ball came at her too fast.

“You didn’t tell me it moves like that!” she shouted after a particularly tricky bounce.

“Would’ve ruined the surprise,” I teased.

But then — beginner’s luck or sheer stubbornness — she pulled off a shot so good it dropped perfectly over the net, leaving me flat-footed.

She froze, eyes wide. “No way… did I just beat you?”

I raised a brow, smirking. “Alright, Miss Natural Talent. Someone’s getting cocky.”

And she did. Her confidence shot up and suddenly she was giving me sass after every point, sticking her tongue out, throwing in a cheeky wink here and there. I wasn’t even mad — honestly, it was turning me on a little.

By the end, we were both sweaty, out of breath, and completely useless at playing properly because we couldn’t stop laughing.

We collapsed onto the bench, her head falling against my shoulder.

“I think I’m a padel prodigy,” she declared.

I chuckled, turning my head to kiss the side of hers. “You’re dangerous when you’re confident.”

She smirked up at me. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

I looked at her, grinning. “Nah. But fair warning — next time we play, for every point you lose… you owe me a kiss. And for every point you win… I might let you decide where you want me to kiss you.”