Game of Love by Ara Grigorian

know I was coming to LA, so I may have surprises waiting for me.”
    “Give me your number. I’d be happy to surprise you also.”
    She considered his question. “It’s best I call you instead. I don’t like surprises.”

    They headed back to his condo, a silent stroll through the streets of Santa Monica. All morning, their words had flowed with ease. No hesitation, no pretense, just two people enjoying each other’s company. But what Gemma really loved was that each moment she spent with him, she slid further away from her other world.
    She thought about it for an instant, scanned around, then reached out and grabbed his hand. They glanced at each other then allowed their arms to swing.
    “Are we going to skip?” he asked.
    “You won’t look graceful. You’ll cramp my style.”
    “I thought Brits were polite.”
    “I
was
being polite.”
    If someone saw them now, they could have been mistaken for high school kids. And in that moment, she was a kid, with no pressures or burdens from the tennis world.
    He tugged her in closer, then released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand resting on her hip, his thigh rubbing against hers. Tremors burst along her skin.
    When they reached his building, she turned to him, her body tight against his. She studied his eyes then fought the urge to study his lips. “We’ll talk later,” she said, then placed a soft kiss on his cheek, barely missing his mouth. She let the kiss linger, long enough to feel his chest tighten.
    Too soon, be smart
, she thought, then stepped back, avoiding eye contact. She turned and quickly slid into her car, and sped away. The pressure in her lungs made breathing nearly impossible.

“Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better.”

~Albert Camus
     
    rom inside his car, Andre watched the coastline and studied the fifty-foot cliff named Point Dume, wondering if it had really meant to be spelled “Doom.” He knew the climb would prove formidable, having seen others scale her before. Most ascended the north face, overlooking the sand, but the more daring took on the west face, overlooking the ocean, high above the jagged boulders littering the base. He looked forward to the challenge. When he scaled, the world and the conversations in his head came to a hush. Instead, he focused on negotiating a peaceful climb with nature–not debating the future, exhaustion, or Gemma.
    She was causing a commotion in his head. That was the only way he could describe it, because he wanted to be with her.
    All.
    The.
    Time.
    He had never felt this before. If he didn’t hear from her soon, he’d have to track her down. She was unhealthy for him, but somehow also breathed life into him.
    Just as he stepped out of his car, his phone rang. Gemma? No… Roger. He pressed
Ignore
. Why was the concept of a day off so difficult to grasp?
    His friends were already making camp. Chris had prepared the north face with hooks and two rope lines, ready for parallel climbs, maybe even a couple of face-offs. Chris’s fiancée, Sandy, the architect, was assembling their poor-man’s cabana because she was an architect, after all. Dan fiddled with the boom box while his wife, Dina, applied suntan lotion to their two-year-old daughter Haley, Andre’s goddaughter. He scanned around and found his cousin, Linda. He admired her. How she found the power to fight even when life dealt her one misfortune after another, he’d never understand. Today was for her. On Memorial Day, they remembered a fallen friend: Linda’s fiancé. Today would have been their one-year wedding anniversary. But the wedding never happened. His flame had been extinguished by the hands of an invisible assassin: cancer.
    “How are you slackers doing this fine mornin’?” Andre asked.
    “
Andres
!” Linda yelled. She sprinted toward him. The others released a primal grunt and followed her.
    “Wait, wait!” Andre said, his hands up, hoping to thwart the attack. “Be gentle,