Page 89 of Clean Point

I knew she wouldn’t ask me to carry on, wouldn’t let me put it all on the line for her. But I wanted to give her this. If anyone deserved this revenge, it was Scottie fucking Sinclar.

‘But you’re doing this for her?’

I crossed my arms and kept my shoulders firm. ‘That’s exactly why she can’t find out.’

Jon rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I think you’re making a mistake. She won’t like that you kept this from her.’

‘I’ll deal with that – if the time comes.’ There was still a good chance everything would work out fine. ‘Until then, she doesn’t need to know.’

‘Okay. Fine,’ Jon agreed. ‘but I won’t keep anything else from her. She’s my responsibility, too.’

‘I understand.’ I ran a hand through my hair, relieved. A part of me was glad that he had her back too, that he was struggling with the idea of keeping this from her, even if it might not even be an issue.

On a relieved breath, I sighed. ‘Thank you.’

Jon nodded curtly, his body still tight, as if still wrestling with the idea. It must have been hard having a conflict of interest like this. ‘Just don’t hurt her. This is the kind of thing that could do that. Be careful.’

I smiled faintly at him, trying to soothe his nerves. ‘I promise I have no intention of ever hurting her.’

Scottie’s hand squeezed my own as she winced in pain, the buzz of the tattoo needle filling the summer evening air. I’d surprised her with an off-campus trip (Jon approved, of course) after she won her game in the fourth round. It had gone the full three sets, but she’d managed to close it out in the end.

I had reached out to my favourite tattooist, Harry, last minute. Right after Ethan wrapped up his lecturing on doing the correct stretches. When I’d promised the design I had in mind was small, he agreed to fit us in this evening. I had gone first, letting her explore the shop a little, while I sat in the chair and let Harry do his work, making sure to keep the result hidden from her. Then it was her turn.

She let out a small yelp of pain again as she lay on her back with her arm above her head so he could work on the inside of her bicep, the opposite arm to mine, but the same position. I held onto her hand, allowing an outlet for her pain, all the while running my other ran through her soft hair.

‘Oh, come on, it doesn’t hurt that much,’ I teased, earning myself a scowl in response.

Her pink lips pursed together. ‘Did your first one hurt?’

I thought to myself for a moment. It had been larger than this design, but in the same place. Five black Olympic rings. ‘It … stung.’

‘You liar.’ She hissed again, although this time with a smile, a playful look held in her blue eyes.

‘Just squeeze my hand. It’s almost over.’

She did as I said, her hand tightening around mine as she winced. I hated seeing her in this pain, but I knew it would be over soon. ‘Can’t believe I let you convince me to do this.’

‘You said you wanted a tattoo,’ I pointed out, remembering our conversation back in Rhodes. I’d not fully understood what she had been saying when she told me about her drunken idea for a tattoo, but now with the truth shared, I could understand how deeply she’d been hurting to want the words inked permanently on her body.

‘Scottie Sinclair is clean’

She laughed, the sound twinged with pain as the needle continued its work. ‘And you said something about exploring your S&M kink.’

‘Eh, two birds.’

Scottie rolled her eyes, paired with a shake of her head. I could still hardly believe her reaction when the car had pulled up outside the shop. A wild, bright smile. My girl was really a rebel at heart.

‘What was Ethan saying about your knee? You were there for a while.’ Concern twinged at the edges of a frown. She’d obviously seen that I’d struggled through the end of the game. ‘I tried to wait to see you after, but I had to go warm up.’

I hesitated, unsure what to say instead of the truth. Jon’s words played on the edge of my brain, his advice not to keep this from Scottie. I knew she should know, but I also knew she would force me to stop playing the doubles. I wasn’t ready to quit, not on myself or playing with her.

‘Oh, nothing new,’ I said, barely holding her gaze. ‘Just getting at me about doing my stretches. I need to stop sliding.’

She nodded, thinking to herself for a moment. ‘We can work on that. Could you manage a practise after this?’

I shook my head, still feeling the ache in my legs from the earlier match. She must be some sort of superhuman to want to keep playing tonight after going for three sets. ‘We should rest up tonight. We still need time to recover.’

‘Nico Kotas taking a night off?’ Her grin was wicked and unhinged, a dash of pride held in her eyes. ‘I have been a terrible influence on you.’

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