Page 52 of Clean Point

‘Then stop playing.’

I inhaled sharply, shaking my head before looking out at the sea, watching the waves wash away at the shore.

For two years, I had done that. I paid the price for his mistake and quit. And that … that had been just fine. I had done things I’d never done, lived in a way I’d always dreamed of. I’d escaped.

But now, with my feet back on the court, I remembered the strength in my arms, the speed of my serve. I had found the power he had taken away. And I wasn’t going to give that up.

‘No.’

‘You’ll regret it, Scottie, playing without me,’ he warned.

‘You’re wrong.’ I didn’t believe him, not after everything that had gone down between us. I’d happily walk away again if it meant keeping my life away from his. ‘Tell me how you found out about the test. Then I want you to leave me alone.’

Another grumble rang through the phone, one that sounded like it was on the edge of a laugh. Like a parent who has reached the end of their tether with their bratty child. ‘Not everyone in that villa is your friend. Remember that.’

And then he hung up the call. Leaving me alone again on the beach with nothing but suspicions.

24

Scottie

True Blue – boygenius

Salt air and an endless blue ocean, the waves rolling in over the beach, did it get any better than this? It had been over a week since everything went down. Jon’s bruised face had gone through every shade of black, blue and purple, and Dylan had left the training camp the morning after our argument without even so much as a goodbye.

‘I don’t know how you can stand that,’ Nico said, his eyes assessing as I dug my feet into the sand, warm from the afternoon sun, my toes completely buried.

I looked down at his own trainer/sock combination, a grin stretched wide along my face. ‘Good luck getting all the sand out. You’ll still be finding it months from now.’

He shrugged, relaxing into the large ELITE-branded towel we’d put down. ‘I’ll throw them out. Better than putting up with sand,’ he complained, his voice bitter, but when he looked up at me, leaning back on his elbows, his smile was anything but irritated.

‘And if you could hold that position,’ Sarah said, interrupting the moment with her camera held up to her eye line. I watched as his smile faltered. That expected irritation appeared, but he did as she said, holding his position. ‘Perfect. This sunset is giving the best lighting.’

It had been her idea for this beach shoot, trying to collect as much content for ELITE’s upcoming campaign as possible. The entry list for Wimbledon had been announced a few days ago, and with Nico’s and my names mentioned in our own separate singles categories, and together in the mixed double category, both of our social media mentions had shot up.

The internet was abuzz with rumours of us together at the breakdowns of our careers. Apparently, ELITE had been beyond pleased with the influx of attention and had started to kick off their PR campaign featuring us a little earlier, and Jon was more than happy to allow them to shoot extra content while we were available.

With a careful smile, I mouthed, ‘She’ll finish soon.’

A flat look from him argued back. All the while, my eyes danced over his familiar stubble that covered sharp cheekbones.

‘Just hold on. I need to adjust the settings.’ She took a couple of steps back as the camera absorbed her full attention. We relaxed, our bodies freed from the position we’d been frozen in, and slumped into the warm sand.

‘I hate this so much,’ Nico needlessly admitted, his tone grumpy.

‘I know. I don’t love this either.’

‘Did you always have to do this?’

I nodded. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t.’

‘I was good at saying no.’ He stretched lazily backward, his arms pressed up. His T-shirt pulled up at his stomach, revealing tanned skin stretched over hard muscle. My mouth watered at the sight, my body reacting as if I hadn’t already studied the sculpting of his topless body from across the court a hundred times. Now, however, I was beside him, and distracted from a much closer view.

A squawk from an overhead seagull reminded me to stop checking out my doubles partner.

I smiled at him and joked. ‘What happened?’

He squinted against the sunlight as he looked up at me, before raising a hand to cover his face from the direct light despite the cap sitting backward on his head. ‘Jon’s gotten good at being convincing.’ Somehow, I sensed there was more to his words than allowing Sarah to take some photographs.

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