Page 69 of Clean Point

Eat Your Young – Hozier

‘All I’m saying is, at least try to behave yourself,’ Jon gruffed, folding his paper back up as he straightened in the corner armchair. I eyed his reflection in the mirror as I attempted to tie my bow tie. Again. It was all for nothing when I caught a glimpse of Scottie’s face and mine front and centre on the newspaper.

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

He raised a single eyebrow. ‘Press will be at the gala,’ he reminded me. ‘The last thing we need is more distractions before the tournament.’

My fingers twisted the soft material, pulling it through the knot the way I was sure my father taught me, before it came out all wrong. I yanked at one side, almost tempted to give up and go with a tie. That had been the plan before Jon showed up five minutes ago, bow tie in hand, as he reminded us that the event was black tie.

‘Again, no idea what you could be referring to.’

And for once, it wasn’t a lie.

It had been a busy few days since the press conference, too busy for any drama with the day taken up with almost constant practice as we tried to attune to the local conditions. We’d each played a few matches in our own singles category and some as doubles partners. So far, they’d all gone well, both of us walking away victorious.

I turned my attention from the bowtie, taking a moment to focus on cufflinks and watches and everything else this stupid event demanded. It was another thing ELITE had signed us up for, a charity event with a ticket price of $15k each that attracted everyone who was anyone before the stress and competition of Wimbledon began.

I’d always managed to avoid it, spending the evening in practice. But if ELITE said jump, we said how high, apparently.

‘So, there isn’t anything going on between you and Scottie?’

My back stiffened at the mention of her name, but somehow, I managed to keep my attention on my fingers, twisting to get the cufflinks in position.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ I confirmed. I certainly wasn’t thinking about what happened in the kitchen. Or how well she had played a match yesterday, with a short white pleated skirt that held my attention almost the whole time. Or seeing her at breakfast this morning, her hair tied back, my hat on her head. She wore it like it had always belonged to her … just like I did.

‘That’s not what it looks like.’ He laid the newspaper flat on the table beside me, the headline staring back up at me.

‘Doubles Delight: Are Nico and Scottie Scoring on and off the Court?’

My blood ran cold as I scanned the photo. It was from a few days before, during a match that had been closed to the public, not that it mattered to anyone.

We had just won, Scottie hitting a dropshot over the net to secure the final set. I’d immediately run to her, dropping my racket as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her feet off the ground and holding her close. I breathed her in, her unmistakable shampoo mixing with the sunshine happiness that had filled me up.

Winning had always made me happy, no matter how small the stakes. The grind was so hard that anything was worth even a small celebration. But winning with her by my side felt like taking the gold at the Olympics over and over again.

And that was what they had captured, that moment of her in my arms. Two teammates congratulating each other. In reality, I’d been losing my grip and was releasing Scottie to the ground. The camera angle had caught one of my hands as it was hovering over her ass. God, I wish that was the case … If I had actually touched it, I’d still be trying to work the memory away, with either a merciless gym session or with my fist.

But, of course, that was the shot they had managed to capture.

‘Isn’t that what ELITE wants it to look like?’ I moved on, tearing myself away from the photo.

Jon shrugged. ‘For the cameras, but I don’t want this kind of distraction during the tournament.’

‘She’s my teammate. Didn’t you want us to get along?’ Annoyance had begun to creep in at the edges. I’d always hated this plan, never wanted to play this up for the tabloids or ELITE for that matter. But I’d gone along with it, and now they were exploiting us for every move, every gesture. And if they really knew what was going on, how I felt about her, they’d use that too.

‘So, there is something.’

Jon’s face was a twisted mix of delight and suspicion. The look threw me just enough off balance that the white lie almost choked me, and the knowing curve of his lips grew. I stumbled to respond, but found myself cut off by a knock at the door.

‘There’s nothing.’ As my back was turned to him, a look of panic crossed my face, a slackened jaw exhausted from the tightness that had appeared the moment he laid the newspaper out. How much longer could I keep pretending?

He shouted again as I headed toward the door, ‘You know I work for you and Scottie, not ELITE. I’d keep your secret.’

I’d ignored him, and instead, with a deep inhale, tried to pull myself together, only to be winded by the sight of Scottie on the other side of the door. Her blonde hair was swept up off her bare shoulders, collarbones exposed as the dress plunged down to her breasts, revealing just enough to drive me to the edge of insanity before the gold sparkling material began. My hand ached to reach out, memorize the curves of her body.

She pursed her lips together, a hand on her hip. ‘They’ve waxed every single part of me. I’m pretty sure I now have the sleek, aerodynamic skin of a baby seal.’

My brain did not know how to process that new information, still struggling to catch up with the sight of her before me. She looked up at me strangely, her blue eyes darkened by eyeshadow, before I got the message and conjured up enough brain power to step aside. Any self-awareness I had reclaimed instantly evaporated as she stepped past me, a leg stepping out of the high slit, revealing yet more perfect, soft, bare skin, before meeting the thin black straps of her tall heels.

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