Page 60 of Match Point

Nina stretched her shoulders and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. To the outside world, it looked innocent enough. She glanced at Sorcha before she curled her fingers, extending the middle one in a telling gesture. Keep playing your childish games. I’m not falling for them anymore. Sorcha tapped her foot on the court, eyebrows raised.

Nina lowered her arm and returned to position. She let slip a taunting grin and served the ball. Sorcha hit it, using every bit of strength she had. Nina stumbled, nearly fell, and lost the point. It was Sorcha’s turn to serve.

Taking the ball from the ball boy, Sorcha touched her toe to the serve line. Nina was fast and agile, and she tended to favor the right side of the court, or so Leo had pointed out ad nauseam. Strict, structured Leo. Never in a million years would she ever picture herself falling for a man like him.

Toss the ball, tilt your arm, raise your shoulder, hit.

The words were like a mantra in her head and she followed through with the action. Nina returned the serve, her shout echoing loud. Sorcha ran forward, hit the ball back and shot to the right. The returned volley hit her racket with a satisfying pop, sailing to the far-left corner, out of Nina’s reach.

“Thirty-love,” the judge called out.

The ball boy retrieved the ball from the court and Sorcha accepted another ball. Inhaling, she searched out Raina, and her stomach dropped as her pulse roared to life. Leo was sitting next to Raina and Howler. He wore a Pioneers hat and sunglasses, his eyes hidden from her view, but there was no mistaking those full lips that tilted at the edges. He was smiling at her, and the burden on her heart lifted the tiniest bit. He’d come home, and the sooner she won this match, the sooner she’d be able to talk to him and spend time with him, if just for a little while.

Blowing out the breath she held, she marched to the line and stared Nina down. Get out of your head and into hers. The woman’s strength was in her agility, but she lacked speed in her serve, not necessarily a bad thing in some cases. She’d beaten Sorcha in the past by simply outperforming her stamina-wise, but that was before Leo’s unconventional training. She could bike up a steep mountain without being winded, no mean feat given her earlier lack of endurance.

Toss the ball, tilt your arm, raise your shoulder, hit.

Nina rushed to the net and returned the ball. It caught Sorcha’s racket head on, and she yelled, putting all her effort into the lob. Nina shot forward, hitting the ball back, a bit wide and high. Sorcha hopped onto her toes, her racket an extension of her hand.

Nina missed.

“Forty-Love.”

Take that. Sorcha rested her hands on her hips and stared at the board. 6-6. She was tied with Nina in this set, which meant she’d have one more set between winning or losing.

Nina would begin the service and Sorcha would be on the deuce court to the right. Nina’s weak spot—a very, very tiny weak spot—in defense, since she was a lefty, but not in the serve. After the first point, the serve would change to Sorcha from the advantage court. By her calculations, she needed to increase the score, otherwise Nina might still win the match by cumulative points.

Nina was smart enough to know when she was at a disadvantage; she’d find a way of getting under Sorcha’s skin, except Sorcha wasn’t going to let it happen this time. She needed this win for her own ego, for her future with Howler’s agency, but most importantly, for her dad. No matter where she went or where she landed, he’d be in her heart and in her soul.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Leo clasped his hands together, his heart racing a mile a minute. Sorcha was on fire, every graceful arch of her body a thing of beauty. The power of her serve never diminished. 131 MPH showed on the digital board and a collective gasp could be heard throughout the crowd.

Nina’s scream from her effort to outmaneuver Sorcha was downright chilling, and not in a bad way. He’d never been prouder of Sorcha than at that moment. How he wished things could be different between them.

They can. You can ask her to stay. And give up her life for something that might be fleeting. Or might be forever. You can always go with her as her manager, take full reins of her career while she rides the wave of her success.

Love-love.

The wording couldn’t be truer. He’d tried to deny it, but he was in love with Sorcha. He had to be; he could think of nothing but her, day in and day out. He’d spent a week with his mother and had intended to stay longer, but Sorcha’s disappointed face haunted him. He’d left Puerto Rico with the promise to return to see his mother in a few weeks, enough time to see Sorcha place in the tournament. Based on the points on the board, she could win the entire thing.

She’d be on top again, flying around the world, and he’d be home, missing her and wishing things could be different. He’d spent most of his youth wishing and fantasizing what his future might be if he could only find his mom. It had been a dream in the harsh reality of life. Shoot forward fifteen years and he’d found her. His life was better for it, but it still didn’t change who he was.

Or did it?

Nina was tiring fast but Sorcha continued to wear her down. Bouncing the ball on the court, she tossed it into the air. Her feet lifted from the court, back arching, she slammed the ball.

Leo held his breath, eyes glued to the green ball. Nina ran to the net, arm out. The ball popped off the racket frame and flew by, bouncing once in the line before it went out of bounds.

And match.

A collective gasp from the crowd followed the win, followed by loud cheering.

“Wahoo.” Raina stood up and hollered, her excited eyes meeting his.

“She won; Sorcha won!” Raina threw herself at Howler, her arms sliding around his neck. He hugged her back, his deep laughter drawing several amused stares.

Leo stood, clapping with the rest of the crowd. Son of a bitch, she’d actually won against Nina. Sorcha moved to the net and shook Nina’s hand. Proud. He was so fucking proud he could hardly contain himself.

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