Page 71 of Match Point

I start at his voice, turning to find him right behind me, a confused expression across his face as he hunches in the downpour.

‘Where are you going?’ he asks, baffled. ‘You’re soaked! What’s wrong?’

‘I… I have to go home. You go back in, enjoy yourself,’ I say bluntly.

‘Flossie,’ he says, grabbing my wrist and stopping me from going, ‘I won’t enjoy myself without you there. Please, tell me what’s happened? Did someone say something to you? Did you read something online? I told you not to look at it.’

I shake my head, sniffing. ‘No. It’s nothing like that. It’s… it’s too embarrassing. I can’t tell you.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he states matter-of-factly, raindrops trailing down his cheeks and through his stubble, dripping from his sculpted jaw.

Fucking hell, he’s even more beautiful in the rain. His skin is glistening and his shirt is growing so damp it’s plastered to his body, accentuating every curve of his defined muscles. I can guarantee that he’s not thinking anything like that about me. I imagine my make-up is running down my face by now and I resemble some kind of wet, miserable panda.

My heart in my throat, I resolve to tell him. I mean, we’re standing here in the rain because of me and he can tell I’ve been crying, so I’m not going to be able to pretend it’s nothing. And I don’t want to lie to him.

‘Jonah cheated on me with Zoe,’ I say quietly, unable to look him in the eye.

I hear him inhale sharply. ‘That Zoe? The one I was just talking to? Your next-door neighbour Zoe?’

I nod dismally. ‘Yes. I came home and found them together in our bed. She apologised and I know it was his fault, not hers, but… I’m not her friend.’

‘Yeah. I can understand why.’

‘I’m sorry for storming out like that,’ I stammer, chewing my lip. ‘I wish I could be stronger. But it’s so hard when I compare myself to her.’

‘Flossie, what are you talking about?’ Kieran asks, and I hear something like amusement in his voice, which digs the knife even deeper.

Maybe he finds this so pathetic, it’s funny to him.

‘She’s so bright and beautiful and fun and smart. She has everything going for her, and I know that it’s hard not to be attracted to her because, hello, she’s perfect, but I just didn’t want to stand there and watch you… flirt with her. You’re, you know, this famous tennis star slash model—’ he snorts as though I’m joking, but I mean it so I don’t laugh ‘—and it makes sense for you to be with someone like Zoe, in the same way it made sense for Jonah to want her. It makes me resort to feeling as small as I felt back then.’

‘Flossie.’ Kieran steps closer and reaches out to gently lift my chin with his fingers, so I’m looking up at him, the two of us blinking like mad through the rain. ‘I’m so sorry for putting you in that position.’

‘It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.’

‘I was talking to her, not flirting with her. I only want to flirt with you.’

Shutting my eyes, another tear falls and I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. ‘But Zoe—’

‘Zoe is beautiful, yes,’ he states, before using his thumb to sweep away the tear that’s mingling with the droplets running down my cheeks. ‘But that doesn’t mean you’re not. Because you are beautiful. You are so, so beautiful.’ He pauses to swallow, his throat bobbing as I bring my eyes up to meet his. ‘When you’re in the room, Flossie, there’s no one else.’

I’m crying again, but happy tears now.

Fucking-happiest-ever tears.

Salty tears that I can taste as he captures my mouth in a kiss so slow and deep, I finally understand what it means for someone to take your breath away.

Time stops still as we stand pressed up against each other in the pouring rain, his mouth moving against mine, his fingers tangled in my wet hair. His other hand slides around my waist and presses into my lower back, allowing me to lose myself entirely in this Hollywood-grade kiss and arch into him, tilting my head back as my arms wrap around his neck and his tongue brushes against mine, sending a roll of shivers down my spine and a surge of heat lurching through my body.

When we eventually break the kiss, we’re grinning goofily at each other, our faces damp from the rain. He looks even more mesmerising with droplets on his eyelashes, his hair plastered across his forehead, the skin of his cheeks flushed and dewy. I have to kiss him again, and he reciprocates, moving his arms to lock around my waist and squeezing me tight as I cradle his face, crushing my lips into his.

‘We should really get out of the rain,’ I say eventually, wiping the drops from his forehead and running my fingers through his hair.

‘Yeah, I think that would be wise.’ He laughs, the rain only getting heavier and louder. He quirks a brow. ‘So, what do you think? My place or yours?’

19

It takes us longer to walk to the flat than it should. Our fingers interlaced, Kieran stops every few minutes to draw me into another kiss, each one growing more passionate than the last. Rushing down our road, giggling, he stops to pin me up against a tree, propping one hand over my head and leaning into me as the other urges my hips into his. His mouth smashes against mine, his tongue demanding and urgent, a low frustrated growl from his throat vibrating against my lips. He’s acting as though he’s not going to be able to wait until he gets me home and it’s so hot feeling this wanted, this desired, this needed. The road is empty, but even if there was anyone there neither of us would notice or care.

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