Sinacore POV
I received the message from Cynthia earlier in the day. It was short and to the point, something about her going for a student union dinner, but honestly, I didn’t give it much thought. She was probably just trying to be polite and maintain the facade we’d agreed on for her sake. Besides, I had practice scheduled, and that always took priority.
When I arrived at the tennis club, I barely had time to put my bag down before Bradley sidled up to me. With his signature million-dollar smile. He also had that look on his face, the one just before he lectures me about girls.
“Sinacore, my man,” Bradley greeted me with a grin, tossing a tennis ball up and catching it casually. “Fancy a quick game before you dive into your practice?”
I smirked, knowing exactly what he was up to. “You think you can take me on today?”
“Oh, I know I can,” he shot back, already heading toward the court. “Come on, show me what you've been working on.”