Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

women in my group, who whacks it across court with impressive strength and accuracy. I’m up next, telling myself I’m here for the tennis, not the tennis coach, so I concentrate really hard on ensuring I hit a good, clean ball. But as I draw back I get my footing all wrong and shank the ball into the adjoining court. Damn!
    “ Never mind, Jessica, just go to the back and try again. You’ll get there, you know?” Scott calls out to me as he drills the next shot down the court.
    After a shocking start and an epic effort to concentrate on my game instead of on Scott I improve steadily during the forehand session and begin to find my rhythm by the time we move onto backhands, matching the other women shot for shot. I notice they’re all pretty handy players and most of them are wearing full makeup, dressed in the latest little tennis getups.
    I must look like the poor cousin next to them, makeup-less, hair pulled hastily into a ponytail, wearing what I now regard as an old, slightly tattered looking tennis outfit.
    B ut, I remind myself, I'm here for the tennis, not to flirt with the object of seemingly everyone’s desire.
    But then , now that I think about it, Mum did say this was a good way to meet a man, and Scott is a man, right?
    After an hour of a full-on workout I have a pretty good understanding of why it’s called Cardio Tennis and not Relaxing Tennis.
    One of the women appro aches me, sweaty, puffing but smiling. “Awesome session, wasn’t it?” she asks as she mops her brow with a towel. She then turns to take a slug of much needed water from her drink bottle.
    I do the same. “Yes. It was fantastic!” I reply as I wipe my mouth on my hand. “Do you come each week?”
    “ Oh I come to Scott's sessions three times a week as well as play interclub on a Tuesday night. I love tennis!” She beams at me.
    “ I can tell,” I laugh.
    She seems nice, a lbeit somewhat tennis-obsessed.
    “ I’m Jess, although I guess you know that after Scott's intro before.”
    “ Well, I'm Jonelle, and it's great to meet you. See you for the next session?” she asks as she picks up her tennis bag.
    “ Definitely. It's such a good workout.”
    “ Yes, and some nice eye candy too,” she replies, winking at me with a crooked smile as she walks away.
    “ I hadn’t noticed,” I lie, thankful I'm already flushed from the exercise so Jonelle can't tell I've started blushing again.
    I really need to pull myself together. I'm acting like a love-struck thirteen-year-old meeting her teen idol, for god’s sake!
    Just t hen Scott approaches me, clipboard in hand.
    “ So, Jessica Banks who has just moved back from London, can I sign you up for our next session? It’s on Friday at ten.”
    He’ s standing so close to me we're almost touching and I can feel the little hairs on my forearms prickle.
    “ Oh, yes,” I stammer. “That’d be just great. It was really fun. You're a good … err … coach. Thanks.”
    Smooth, Jess, really smooth.
    “Great. I'll put you down for Friday and look forward to seeing you again then.” He looks up from his clipboard as a guy walks onto the court. “There's my 11 o'clock. Take care, Jessica. See ya later.”
    I turn to see who's approaching, more interested in whether Scott's appointment is with some hot woman I might be jealous of, but realise it's Benjamin Pearson.
    “ Hey Ben!” I call out to him as he walks onto the court. “They'll really just let anyone into tennis clubs these days.” I smile broadly at him, genuinely pleased to see my old buddy.
    “Jess ! I heard you were back! It’s so great to see you,” Ben replies.
    He walks over and gives me a warm hug, despite my protestations that I’m all sticky with sweat from my workout. As always, I'm struck by how nice looking he is. Not a Scott-type Adonis of course, but he’s tall and broad, with a real sparkle in his bespectacled brown eyes.
    He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your mum - dependable, responsible,