Page 37 of Clean Point

Then he reached out, grabbing the attention of a hurrying waiter. ‘Hey, sorry – can I order a second burger for the table? Hold the tomatoes.’

‘Welcome to the dark side.’ I smiled. ‘But removing the healthy part of the burger? However will we explain ourselves to Jon?’

‘He can never know.’ His hand stretched out to me. I took it, his fingers wrapping around mine, the calluses of his palm brushing against my skin.

‘It’s our secret.’

We lost track of time, ordering another round of beers (this time, minus a scowl from Nico) and eating our burgers in peace, taking time to enjoy our first comfort meal in a while. But when the final whistle blew on the football game, we realized we might have forgotten one important thing.

The rest of the group, who thought we’d be back at the van.

We paid the bill, rushing to make it back to the parking lot where we were supposed to be when the sky split open with heavy rain. The streets emptied, shops pulling out awnings to run the rain away from the entrance, while bars closed shutters over their windows to keep the water out. Very quickly, the small alleyway street of Lindos turned into a river, and with a quick glance at Nico, I’d known we didn’t have time to sit this one out. If the group wasn’t already back at the van, they would be soon.

Whether it was driven by need or the three beers I’d drank, I hadn’t thought twice as I grabbed Nico’s hand, our fingers interlacing, and dragged him out into the warm rain. It was like we jumped fully clothed into a shower, our clothes soaked through to our skin as we ran through the streets, attempting to dodge the worst of the rain by jumping from cover to cover.

Reaching the end of the tourist area, we surpassed the last awning and heavy rain pelted down on us. Any concept of the word ‘dry’ was washed away. Halfway up the street, we found a doorway to give us some shelter but not larger than for one person. We stood face to face, our bodies pressed together, squeezing into the tiny space.

He was as soaked as I was, strands of his hair stuck down on his forehead, shirt clinging to his frame, accentuating every muscle of his arms and chest; a hard chest that was pressed against mine.

Without the lights from the shops and restaurants, night time blanketed the streets. But as I looked up at him, his eyes darkened and wandered over every inch of my face. Just like before. I tried to ignore the feel of the length of his body against me as it rose and sank with each breath, the humidity in the air making it warmer and harder to inhale.

My chest tightened as my gaze caught a raindrop rolling down his cheek, and acting on an instinct I didn’t know I had, I raised my hand to his rugged face and wiped it away, enjoying the feel of his unshaven stubble against my fingers. If the action was unwelcome, he didn’t let me know, unmoving under my touch.

His stormy ocean eyes caught mine, the firm line of his jaw slackened into an expression that I couldn’t quite decipher. It was like the water had washed away his armour, stripping away a veneer of control he held onto, and instead, he was vulnerable and exposed.

The pounding rain faded into a distant murmur as the tension between us, always simmering beneath the surface, now hung heavy in the air, like an electric charge waiting to ignite. Rain continued to pour, but it was as if the world had narrowed down to the two of us, locked in an unspoken conversation. His eyes held a hint of vulnerability, one that matched my own.

The pounding of my heart in my ears replaced the noise of the rain as I hesitated, my hand still resting against his cheek, our faces mere inches apart, his eyes searching mine.

And then he moved backward, and my hand fell to my side as he slid from under the porch and out onto the street, the rain continuing to pelt down. It took me a moment to process everything, watching him as he looked back at me. With a silent nod of his head, he gestured for me to follow him out. His vulnerable expression was gone, his guard back up.

As I followed him, the downpour washed away that one meaningful moment in the doorway. Where, for a second, with my hand on his cheek and his eyes burning into mine, I’d wondered if Nico Kotas could ever be more than my doubles partner.

Tweets

EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS: Scandalous @ScottieSinclair and Tennis Legend Nico Kotas spotted sharing drinks in Greece. Witnesses report seeing the two on a romantic sightseeing trip before roaming the streets of Lindos. SEE PHOTOS HERE – The Daily Tea

See the summer collection here, modelled by Scottie Sinclair and Nico Kotas – ELITE

Are Scottie Sinclair and Daddy Kotas together? My life is over.

18

Nico

The Walls Are Way Too Thin – Holly Humberstone

Shorts and a sports bra. That’s all she was wearing. Black shorts that cut off mid-thigh, rising up her waist before revealing a canvas soft skin that no amount of Greek sun seemed to be able to tan. A matching sports bra that sent my brain into such a spasm I couldn’t even begin to form the words to describe it.

A ball bounced into my side of the court, but I was too mesmerized to even move, watching the stretch in her arms as she returned the ball to me. We’d been in practice all morning, an extra hour added on which I’m sure was Jon’s personal punishment for not returning to the van.

‘You should’ve hit that!’ Jon shouted at me from the sidelines, and my brain scrambled all over again from the double entendre.

Her face close to mine, droplets of rain running down her freckled cheeks, blonde hair stuck to her face from the rain, the length of her entire body pressed against mine as we hid in the small alcove from the sudden downpour.

Another ball smacked me in the face.

‘What are you doing, Kotas? Daydreaming?’ Scottie grinned from opposite the court, my hat on her head. Again. I fought the urge to storm over and steal it. Distance was what I needed from her. Distance made up of miles, countries and continents, and maybe then I’d forget the sweet scent of her shampoo on the rim of my hat.

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