Page 62 of Match Point

But I realised his eyes were on me the minute I looked up. He’d been watching me, waiting for me to notice. I smiled at first. A warm, beaming, you-did-it type smile, but he didn’t smile back.

He looked at me as he’s still looking at me now, a searing gaze that makes my brain scramble and my heart flutter with anticipation, my belly filling with warmth and fluttering butterflies all at once. Without dropping my gaze, the creases in his brow deepen and he lifts his hand to rub his mouth, agitated, while his assistant coach is saying something and pointing at the screen of his iPad. Kieran doesn’t bother to pretend to seem interested. My heart is now thudding so loud it’s in my ears, and the rest of the room has been reduced to white noise.

Swallowing, I part my lips. His eyes flare.

‘Everyone out.’

The room falls silent as his team all turn to look at him, startled by his abrupt instruction.

‘Kieran,’ Neil says, his smile faltering as he observes Kieran’s expression, ‘we have a lot to go through and—’

‘We’ll go through it tomorrow,’ Kieran interrupts, his voice low and severe, his eyes still fixed on me, melting me to the ground.

‘Okay, but surely you want some physio tonight or—’

‘Neil,’ Kieran growls, ripping his gaze away from me to glare at his coach, ‘I have won a big match today and I would like to rest so I can win the next one. I’m very grateful to everyone here and, frankly, the team deserves the night off, too. So, everybody out.’

After sharing some looks, the rest of his team gather their things and, after congratulating him once again, begin to file out the room. Neil doesn’t move, his hands on his hips, his expression terse as he studies Kieran closely.

‘You sure about this?’ he says quietly.

‘I’m sure,’ Kieran replies, no hesitation.

Neil’s chin juts out, before he holds up his hands and says, ‘Okay. Okay, if this is what you want. You did well today. You can have the night off. But I want you on top form, ready to go when we arrive bright and early tomorrow. We have a fight on our hands next round. You need to be prepared. Got it?’

Kieran arches his brow in response, amused that Neil might think he’s the one in charge right now. Finally acknowledging that Kieran’s not going to budge, Neil turns and glances at me accusingly as he goes, exhaling audibly down the hallway. The last one to leave, he slams the front door shut behind him and the flat falls into silence.

Kieran and I remain on either side of the room.

The air between us is so charged, I can practically feel the sparks crackling.

‘You… you were amazing today,’ I manage to say.

‘Do you know how I pulled it back in the first set to win?’ he says, his expression serious, his voice strained and impatient.

My mouth is so dry under his intense gaze, I have to lick my lips.

‘I thought about this,’ he says.

He reaches into his pocket with his right hand and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he holds up, neatly wedged between his middle and forefinger. It’s the sketch I gave him this morning before he left.

‘The anger I felt at myself seemed to lessen,’ he says, taking a couple of slow steps across the room towards me. ‘The tightness in my chest eased. The anxiety loosened its grip.’ Another step. ‘The fog in my brain drifted.’ And another. ‘The fear dissolved.’ One more step. ‘My heart rate slowed.’ He’s right in front of me now, the intoxicating musky scent of his cologne filling my lungs and making my body tingle. ‘For the first time in a long time, Flossie, I felt I could win.’

I can barely breathe, my heart thrumming.

‘And you proved today that you can,’ I whisper, bringing my eyes up to meet his.

His jaw ticks. ‘Before each point, I tried to shut out all the voices, but there was one I couldn’t shake. Yours.’

He reaches up to trail his fingers along my jaw.

‘You’re inside my head, Flossie Hendrix,’ he states huskily, making me shiver.

His hand is suddenly curled at the nape of my neck and he pulls me towards him, his mouth clashing against mine violently, devouring me without wasting another moment. As his other hand grips at the curve of my hip, a swirling heat erupts through my body, consuming every part of me. My hands grasp his broad shoulders and I arch my hips into his, causing him to groan into my mouth, a sound so hot it sends a shudder down my spine.

This kiss is everything. He is everything. Nothing else matters. The world could be on fire, I don’t care. I need more. I need him.

My hands fall to the hem of his shirt, and grasping fistfuls of the material, I yank it up and he breaks the kiss to finish what I’ve started, pulling it up over his head and dropping it on the floor. I swallow the lump in my throat as I admire the curves of his smooth muscled biceps and his impeccably toned torso. Fuck. This isn’t fair. He’s so perfect, he should be on every billboard in the city. I’d buy whatever he’s selling. As he grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him, his mouth finds mine again, and my hands splay across his warm, solid chest, my fingers impatiently gliding over his skin to his groin, indulging in every indent, ridge and flex of muscle.

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