His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1191: I Will Not Hit_1

Chapter 1191: Chapter 1191: I Will Not Hit_1

"Chapter 1191

Layla Lowell pulled the corners of her mouth into a perfunctory smile, then turned and locked her gaze on the man holding the tennis racket.

"If your tennis skills suck, don’t get on the court and cause trouble for others."

Charles Carrington draped the racket over his shoulder. His handsome face was sleek with sweat, and even when the coldness in his eyes was enveloped by the sunshine, the chill within them remained, "How about a match?"

He was staring at the senior, not paying attention to Layla Lowell.

The senior, finding the atmosphere a bit strange, gave a dry laugh and said, "Sure, let’s have a match. Let’s team up, one on one doesn’t seem fun."

As he said that, he glanced at Layla Lowell, "I’ll team up with Layla."

He slid his arm around Layla Lowell’s shoulder.

Layla instinctively shrank back, and he let go of her.

A spark of fire flickered in Charles Carrington’s eyes. As his gaze shifted, it turned into a hot stare fixed on Chloe Collins who was chatting nearby with Wanda Wesley.

"Chloe Collins, come over here!"

Chloe, who was suddenly called out: "→_→"

He grabbed a racket and tossed it to Chloe.

Manie York automatically trotted over towards Alexander Foster: "I’ll team up with you."

She had a smile on her lips.

Alexander wore an expression of indifference: "I’m not playing."

He tossed the racket back into the basket and walked toward the rest area. A Samoyed trotted over to him, carrying a basket of towels on its back.

He picked up a towel and wiped his sweat, intending to watch the game.

Manie retreated as well, saying: "Since they’re playing now, I’ll wait with you."

Alexander didn’t respond, his deep gaze fixed on the people on the court.

Chloe lazily dragged her racket onto the court, wearing a languid expression, and said to Charles Carrington, "I don’t know how to play."

Charles Carrington seemed not to believe her, his gaze shifted to the man next to Layla Lowell, and he yelled, "The person who loses has to carry the winner around the court three times."

Layla Lowell: "Childish."

Senior: "... Eh, okay."

Chloe Collins: "I don’t know how to play."

The audience: "Feels like a children’s game."

Charles Carrington hadn’t proposed this requirement on a whim, he just wanted to show someone how poor the senior’s stamina was.

Since Anders Spence was a member of the tennis club, he was chosen to be the referee, and the game officially began.

Layla Lowell served, and the ball flew towards Chloe’s area.

"Chloe Collins, hit it back!"

Chloe glanced at it and with a smack, returned the ball.

"Too hard!" Charles Carrington gritted his teeth.

As expected, the ball went straight out of bounds.

Chloe’s face remained bland: "I told you I don’t know how to play."

Charles Carrington’s face darkened: "Don’t joke with me. If you can do something as difficult as race car driving, how can you not do something as simple as this? Take this seriously, it’s a matter of my pride."

Chloe: "Okay."

It was their turn to serve.

Charles Carrington served the ball smoothly.

There was a clang, and Layla Lowell successfully returned the ball.

Again, it was going into Chloe’s area.

"Chloe Collins, use less power!" he reminded.

Chloe agreed, reducing the power by more than half.

Then... the ball didn’t clear the net.

There was silence.

This was the first time they’d seen such a sucky Chloe Collins.

She turned her head, looking nonchalant: "I told you I don’t know how."

Anders Spence reminded them of the score, and currently, they were at zero.

Charles Carrington took a deep breath and said earnestly: "You just stand there like a piece of furniture, I’ll field all the balls."

Chloe: "Is that okay?"

"What I say goes!"

Chloe: "Okay, then."

So, when the new round started and the ball flew over, Chloe saw the ball near her, she could have easily returned it, instead, she dodged.

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