Page 92 of Heart Match

He eventually finds his way out of the hugs and taps on the back and freezes for a brief moment as he stands in front of me, only a few inches away. His eyes are curiously searching for an explanation in mine and I hope my face is conveying the answer. I just smile, then I’m in his arms, and his mouth is on mine. Despite the rain, it feels like fire, it feels like home, and belonging, and my heart feels safe. In his embrace he feels whole and I complete.

His delicious warm lips are pressed hard against mine, and his tongue is finding its way into my mouth in a hurry, with need and longing. It’s as though the world around us has stopped spinning and moving. For a second I can’t even hear the crowd around us. It feels like it’s only us, and that’s enough. More than enough.

I need him more than I thought I did. I’ve been lying to myself, an actress around my real feelings. How couldn’t I have seen it before as clearly as I see it now? How did I survive days without kissing these soft and wet lips? Away from this embrace and his warmth?

I don’t want to ever stop kissing him. This is good, this is a kind of good I’ve never felt before. But then I hear the world screaming and cheering and clapping around us and we break our kiss, rain still falling.

‘What made you change your mind?’ he asks, his eyes locked on mine.

‘Everything.’

He pulls me harder into him and his face finds its way around my neck. This makes me deeply inhale his smell—sweat and grass and sex lingering on him. I gasp for air, for words. I try to feel my legs but all I feel is the banging of my heart against him. He’s soaking wet from the rain, and my dress now also wet from our embrace.

He looks at me, half-smiling, and says, ‘I feel like today I’ve won two titles.’ He pulls my bangs to the side and plants a soft kiss on my nose.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Wimbledon’s champion—Mr. Lucas Dominique Lamaire,’ says the presenter.

After a long wait for the beginning of the trophy ceremony—due to the heavy rain, the roof needed to be closed—Moretti received his trophy first, now it’s Luc’s turn. No one less than the Duchess of Cambridge herself hands him the golden trophy. He looks so emotional his eyes might be a bit teary. I like the emotional version of Luc. He raises the trophy in the air, then plants a long kiss on it. The cheer of the crowd gives me goosebumps.

‘Lucas. Wow. What a comeback, what a match,’ says the presenter. Luc’s smile is wide, I’d say his mouth’s trembling.

‘How does it feel to win Wimbledon for the first time?’

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, to breathe and find his voice.

‘Surreal,’ he manages, smiling and sounding a bit breathless.

The crowd cheers with his answer. When there’s silence again, the presenter resumes the interview.

‘What went through your mind when you lost the second set?’

‘Puh. I reminded myself of something my father always tells me, “Giving up is not an option, there’s always a chance to turn things around.” Merci, papa.’ There is so much applause I feel the floor shaking under my feet. I look at Dom’s reaction and he has tears in his eyes.

‘Are you aware that tomorrow it’s going to be official that you’re now number one in the world?’ The crowd doesn’t just applaud, they shout. Luc’s laughing, readjusting his cap with one hand and holding the trophy with another.

‘Today’s win still hasn’t sunk in, let alone that I’ve moved up to number one in the ranking,’ says Luc. The crowd laughs.

After saying kind words to his best friend, he thanks his team and family, the event’s organiser and the public.

‘I could never be where I am without you,’ he says, eyes filled with tears.

‘Now, the question of the week, of the hour if you might,’ says the presenter. ‘Lucas, everyone wants to know …’

I know what’s coming, so I feel my heart climbing its way up my throat. He knows what’s coming too, because he’s flushing in anticipation.

‘Can we say the reason for you almost missing your serve today is your girlfriend?’

Laughter takes over the court. Luc’s shyly smiling at the presenter, as if he were a little boy asked about his first kiss in front of his parents.

Everyone’s now impatiently waiting for a reply, even Moretti seems excited, smiling again after his loss. This past week, Luc and I were on the news spotlight. It’s all people could talk about. The fact that he always declined to answer questions regarding our relationship made people speculate even more. Did I mention we even became memes?

‘She’s a very private person. I don’t want to answer for her, so you might want to ask her yourself.’

I can’t believe he said that. I immediately find shelter for my face in my hands. Of course, my face is now on the screen, probably on TV too for the entire world to see.

‘Miss Charlton. The world wants to know, even the royal family’s curious.’ A little pause for more laughter. ‘Is this man standing right here next to me, holding this humble golden trophy, your boyfriend?’

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