Page 98 of Clean Point

At least we had that. Normally, this would be it for me. I’d be done and out until the next competition. But because we were here together, I had a second opportunity. I could win with him by my side, and now I realized I couldn’t think of a sweeter ending to this story.

A smile grew wide on his lips. ‘Atta girl.’

‘And you a singles,’ I reminded. I could’ve sworn the smile faltered for a moment, something in his eyes flickering, but his hands moved to the side of my face, cupping and pulling me into him for a kiss as if to distract me. Which, it did, my body giving into the moment, enjoying the momentary freedom from the heavy feeling that was still to loosen its grip.

‘What time is your match?’ I asked, resting my forehead against him.

He groaned, scrunching his face up. ‘Soon. An hour.’

‘Jon will be hunting you down for warmups,’ I warned, eliciting another noise of complaint from him. I smiled, kissing him once again as a comfort, before shifting my weight.

‘No,’ he said, his hands keeping me on him. ‘One more minute.’

I raised an eyebrow at his words, forcing my lips to stay pressed together in a disapproving line. I was ready to put up a small fake fight, but I was too weak against him and instantly I relented to his request, my lips meeting his again.

We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, losing ourselves a little. It was so easy to be with him. He hadn’t come here to make me feel worse; he’d come because he supported me, to be here for me. I’d been running from what used to be my life for years. Who’d have known that he’d be the person to help bring me back. I wanted to stay tangled up in his arms, in his bed, for as long as he’d have me.

‘You gotta go,’ I reminded him, finding the physical strength to pull myself away from him. He narrowed his eyes at me, pursing his lip to one side as if he was considering bowing out of the competition entirely to stay here five minutes longer.

‘Fine,’ he agreed, his tone grumpy. ‘But tonight, keep it free.’

My eyebrows pressed up. ‘Why?’

‘I think after today, we deserve some time off.’

I paused at the idea, considering my options. Another late night analysing every misstep I took on court, every time I should’ve kept my calm at the umpire, every bad call he made.

Or a hanging out with Nico Kotas.

‘I’m in,’ I said, watching his smile grow. I slid from his lap and raised a single finger. ‘On one condition.’

His head fell back in fake annoyance. ‘What’s that?’

‘You gotta win.’

His smile turned into a sly smirk. ‘Maybe you ought to stick around, be my good luck charm, and make sure I do.’

‘Me?’ I let out a sharp laugh. ‘After today, you really think I’m lucky?’

He kissed me once, just a quick peck, but it was enough to leave me breathless. ‘Wear my hat and prove me right.’

41

Nico

Play God – Sam Fender

Kotas vs Anderson

Quarterfinals – Centre Court

I thought I’d been nervous before a match, but it didn’t compare to knowing Scottie was tucked away in my player’s box, watching me. Every break, my eyes couldn’t help but go to her, see the tuck of blonde hair under a navy cap – my cap.

Instinct kicked in as the ball flew across the court. Oliver’s serves were nothing to be trifled with, and I acted quickly to return them. The tense, hushed crowd left only the noise of our quick footsteps and the snap of the ball meeting a racket.

We both charged across the court, determined to take this point. I’d won the first two sets, and now we were in an all-out assault for the third.

The first point ended when he hit the ball over to my side of the court, and years of training left me with the assurance that the ball would be out. It bounced, and the yell of the crowd and an announcement from the umpire confirmed the point was mine.

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