Page 49 of Match Point

It was the first panel I drew this morning, before I’d even thought of a story to go with it. It’s just a rough draft of what it could be, there’s no colour, but I’m proud of it all the same: it’s a single framed box and in it you see the back of a young teenage boy wearing a hoodie and shorts, with headphones resting round his neck and his hands in his pockets. He’s standing alone, looking out across a neglected tennis court in an empty public park, the net frayed, the lines faded. In the distance, the sun is setting.

The caption in the box above the character’s head reveals his inner monologue:

It saved me.

I nervously wait for Kieran to react, studying his expression as closely as he’s inspecting my sketch. He hasn’t said anything. His breathing is slow and heavy. His jaw twitches. My stomach is twisting itself in knots from nerves. I can’t wait any longer.

‘What do you think?’ I ask quietly. ‘Do you like it? You inspired it. I was thinking about our chat yesterday on the court and how tennis can be therapeutic, and then I kept thinking about what you said to me the other day, about how tennis saved you after… after losing Aidan. I couldn’t shake it.’ I hesitate, digging my teeth into my bottom lip, the doubts creeping in. ‘Maybe… maybe it’s too personal. I don’t want to make you feel as if I’ve intruded on how you feel. If you don’t like it, it doesn’t have to go in the book, it was just—’

‘I like it,’ he says, his voice cracking.

‘Really? You do? You’re not just saying that to be nice?’

He pushes himself up from the table, straightening and turning to face me. His eyes catch the light and I see that they’re glistening. He fixes them on mine and steps towards me, closing the gap between us. He’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me.

Please kiss me.

I tilt my head up towards him, my breathing shaky and shallow.

‘It’s… perfect,’ he says in a low, steady voice, reaching out to brush his fingers along my cheekbone, tucking my hair behind my ear, just like he did the other day.

But this time, he’s not apologetic.

Cupping my face in his hands, he dips his head and presses his mouth to mine. His lips are soft and tentative at first, and I hear myself sigh as I close my eyes and melt into him, relief and elation flooding through my body. I reach up to wrap my arms around the back of his neck and his hands slip down to my waist to pull me closer to him.

The kiss grows deeper, his tongue caressing mine making me feel dizzy. He was holding back at first, but now that I’ve reciprocated, he’s revealing how much he wants it and I’m returning the favour. He wants this; I want this. A growling noise comes from the back of his throat and my breath catches at his sudden urgency. I’m desperate to savour this moment, how he tastes, how his body feels pressed up against mine, but I’m hungry for what’s next. I can feel him hard through his jeans, pushing against my stomach.

Giddy with excitement and anticipation, I find myself smiling against his lips. Keeping his brow pressed to mine, he breaks the kiss to briefly look at me, his eyes ablaze as he breaks into a grin, his dimples sending my heart into a frenzy.

No more waiting. I draw his mouth to mine again, feeling a thrill of satisfaction in my stomach as he leans into me, kissing me harder. I almost lose my balance and stumble backwards, but I’m caught by his warm, strong hands that have been roaming freely over my back before they drop to my thighs. In one swift movement, he lifts me up onto the table without breaking the kiss.

Fuck, he’s strong. He’s so strong.

My legs naturally wrap around his waist, his hands moving my dress up, scrunching the hem around my hips. My thighs feel cold as his hands desert them to move to the small of my back, his muscular arms holding me in place. He runs his lips along my jaw and down my neck, my skin burning beneath them. I tip my head back and inhale sharply, arching my hips into him and causing him to let out an involuntary groan of pleasure, his warm breath tickling my collarbone and covering my skin in goosebumps. When he comes back up to claim my mouth fervently again, he nips my bottom lip.

I swear to God that one tiny nip makes my whole body shudder. My nipples are hard beneath my dress and there’s a pulsing ache between my thighs. I want him closer.

Instinctively I tighten my legs around Kieran’s back, causing him to groan again into my mouth, while his left hand slides up my back to find its way to my hair, grasping it with a gentle, exhilarating tug.

No one has ever kissed me like this. I’ve never felt so wanted, so needed.

His lips leave mine again to graze back along my collarbone, his fingers helping to clear their path by pulling at the shoulder strap of my dress and letting it drop over my shoulder. It’s a signal and I respond by slipping my hands beneath his shirt, digging my fingernails into the skin of his hips, etching them along to the bottom of his spine. I can feel his erection twitch against me and I widen my knees, opening myself more fully for him.

Kieran lets out a low shaky breath against my skin. ‘Christ, Flossie.’

His mouth traces lower and I gasp at the feel of his stubble on my skin as his lips trail the low neckline of my dress. All the while his thumb is sliding closer up my legs, trailing and teasing suggestively along the top of my thong. I bite back a moan as he circles my clit through the lacy fabric.

‘Do you want—’ he begins, lifting his head to look into my eyes, his voice raspy and strained.

‘Yes,’ I answer before he can finish the question because for fuck’s sake, please.

He leans back in and kisses me again, his lips demanding and urgent. I feel like my own lips are bruised and swollen, but I can’t stop. I just want more.

‘You have no idea,’ he says between breaths, his thumb slipping beneath the fabric of my damp underwear. ‘You’re all I think about. All I fucking think about.’

My head tilts back and my hand curls instinctively around the nape of his neck, as I bite my lip and—

The doorbell goes.

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