Page 35 of Match Point

‘What about Heartstopper? And Jack Kirby created a romantic comic book series before he came up with the Captain America character. I can’t remember what the series was called, but it will come to me.’

I stare at him, my jaw dropping to the floor. ‘You mean, Young Romance.’

He clicks his fingers. ‘That’s it.’

‘You like comic books,’ I blurt out, nerves fluttering at the thought.

‘Yeah,’ he says, smiling warmly at my reaction. ‘Big fan. Why do you look so surprised? I’m allowed to like things outside of tennis.’

‘I know, but I… I didn’t have you down as a comic book nerd.’

He strokes his chin with a bemused expression. ‘Nerd might be pushing it. But I enjoy graphic novels. That’s why I feel quite confident telling you that your ex was talking… well, quite frankly, a load of shite. It’s no wonder that you haven’t been able to start your story yet – you can’t write something that doesn’t come naturally to you. If it’s a romantic story that you want to tell, that’s the one you should be writing.’

‘I don’t know,’ I murmur. ‘It’s a competitive industry and Jonah said—’

‘What?’ Kieran cuts in, something like anger flashing across his eyes. ‘What else did this guy say to stall you?’

I bite my lip. ‘He didn’t want me to get my hopes up. I didn’t do an art degree or anything. He said he didn’t think I’d practised my craft enough to make it. In other words, I wasn’t good enough.’

Kieran’s jaw twitches. Tipping his head back for a moment, he murmurs something under his breath that I don’t quite catch.

‘What did you say?’ I ask, frowning.

‘Nothing.’ He gestures at my drawings. ‘These look very good to me. I don’t know much about art and so this may mean nothing to you, but I’ve only caught a glimpse at those characters and I want to know more. I want to know their story.’

‘Thanks.’ I hesitate, before adding softly, ‘That means a lot.’

I bring my eyes up to lock with his and there’s something about them that seems different. They’ve softened somehow. Usually his steely stare is cold and guarded, but here, in this moment, it’s soothing and warm. I’ve forgotten how much this guy riles me; instead I’m lost in the gentle, swirling blue of his eyes.

He averts his gaze and the spell is broken.

‘Sorry, for being in your room,’ I say hurriedly. ‘Thanks again for saving me. I’ll… um… go.’

I scuttle out, returning to the safety of my sofa. But later that night, I find that I’m smiling to myself when I think about our exchange.

Kieran O’Sullivan likes my drawings.

9

I’m supposed to be drawing, but all I can think about is the strength of Kieran O’Sullivan’s arms locked around my waist and how it felt to be cocooned by his body yesterday. He’s so tall and broad and solid, I felt small and safe tucked into his chest, even if it was just for a few seconds. And I could have sworn there was something about the way he looked at me when I turned round in his arms to face him, an intensity that wasn’t there before.

Okay, maybe I saw what I wanted to see.

But whenever I let my mind drift back to that moment – which, I have to admit, is roughly every ten seconds – a warm tingling sensation swirls through my body, sending my heartbeat into overdrive.

He did say I smelt nice, too.

I twirl the pencil round in my fingers, biting my lip. The open page of my sketchbook in front of me on the kitchen table remains blank. I sigh, annoyed with myself for wasting another afternoon. I toss the pencil down and slide my laptop across to me, typing in Kieran’s name to Google search. I want to know more about him.

Ignoring the recent articles, I click on his Wikipedia page, focusing on the sections detailing his background and personal life, rather than the long paragraphs about his tennis career. The section about his background is fairly vague. He obviously doesn’t like to talk about it publicly. I scan through how he grew up in Dublin, his parents divorced young, and he and his older brother, Aidan, were coached by their father, Brian. Aidan was an extremely successful young tennis star, but passed away at the age of twenty. There aren’t many details about his death, but the largely accepted story is that it was drug-related.

‘Oh my God,’ I whisper, pressing a hand over my mouth.

From the section about his personal life, I learn that, just as Iris told me, Kieran was briefly engaged to British actress, Rachel Wallace, in his twenties but they broke up two months into their engagement and she subsequently dated and married Australian tennis player Chris Courtney. Apparently, it’s also well known that Kieran and Chris have a long history of professional rivalry on the court – soon after Aidan died, Kieran faced Chris in the final of the Australian Open, having already beaten the world number one in the semis, a match that catapulted Kieran into worldwide fame overnight. The final was a highly anticipated match, since Kieran was only eighteen years old. Chris won three sets to two. Kieran broke his racket during the match and was fined.

Three years later, Chris played Kieran in the semi-final of Wimbledon, but Kieran had to forfeit during the match due to injury. Rachel Wallace was watching that match, sitting with Kieran’s team. A year later when they faced each other at Wimbledon again, she was sitting amongst Chris’s entourage. Kieran lost in three straight sets.

‘Ugh,’ I say out loud, my heart sinking for him. Brutal.

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