Page 129 of Game Point
‘I do,’ I said gently, the feeling too big for my chest. ‘I have for a long time.’ I noticed something in her eyes, an apprehension I immediately couldn’t stand. ‘You don’t have to say –’
‘Of course I love you,’ Dylan said, everything about her soft and vulnerable. I melted against her, unable to control myself.
She loved me.The movement of her lips against mine, a brush of her tongue reminded me of how much I treasured every single moment of our journey here, our friendship; I knew we could survive anything.
‘I don’t want my greatest accomplishment to be erasedby our relationship,’ she said, reluctance twisting with every word. ‘I want both of these things to have the attention they deserve.’
‘I know. I understand,’ I said, her words doing nothing to smother the feeling in my heart, instead only growing it. She could tell me how she felt, even if she knew or thought it would hurt me.
For a while, I’d wondered if I’d ever feel like this again, the hurt too raw from my last relationship. But her decisiveness, her blunt and honest personality had shown me that while she might seem pig-headed and arrogant, these were qualities I’d admired in her. Trusted her because of them.
‘Can we wait until after the final?’ she asked. ‘To tell them.’
I smirked, correcting, ‘After you win?’
She nodded. ‘We tell them no matter what happens.’
I lifted my hand, placing my palm against her soft cheek. Every inch of her skin was soft and perfect. ‘You’re going to win. I’d bet on it.’
She laughed softly, chuckling. ‘Don’t though. That’s inside betting.’
‘I promise, I mean it only in spirit.’ I winked. ‘But seriously, I can’t wait to see you stand on that court, with the trophy in your hands. Your hometown match.’
‘You’re going to have to stop. You’ll inflate my ego too much.’
‘Be confident, Dylan. It’s all you need,’ I said, watching the change in her demeanour. From teary eyed, to now, her shoulders drawn back. ‘Now … are you ready?’
‘Yes.’ She sucked in a deep breath, the last remainder of any emotion disappearing. Dylan looked me straight in the eyes. ‘Oliver Anderson. You are fired.’
42
Dylan
Call It What You Want – Taylor Swift
‘Well congratulations on your run here,’ Rachel Kendrick said flatly from the opposite side of the couch, her phone set to record every word. ‘It’s been an interesting battle.’
I swallowed, keeping my eyes on her. It was the day before the final. I’d already posed for a few magazines, done some social media work for the competition, and now I’d been cornered by ol’ snake eyes Rachel of theDaily Tea.
Last time I’d been in a room alone with her, I’d had a panic attack. This time, I would not allow that to happen.
‘Thank you?’ I replied, my voice uncertain if that had really been a compliment or not.
‘Especially after the ups and downs you’ve experienced this year. Consecutive losses at both Wimbledon and the US Open, even going as far as to announce a retirement before, of course, dramatically changing your mind.’ She listed everything easily, every one of my failures from last year. But I had put them to rest, I’d proven that I’d needed rest, to recalibrate. I could come back and still reach that final.
‘I needed a break.’
‘Like I said, dramatic. And now you’ve come back, your hometown match. Is this one last shot at a title or a return to the sport?’ Rachel asked.
‘I think it’s a different way of playing. I’ve been focusing on my mentality, on improving how I feel during matches to make sure I’m staying as mentally well as I should be.’
‘Do you think it was the pressure at this level that you couldn’t handle?’
A few months ago, that question would have felt like an insult. Today, I was prepared.
‘Maybe, yes,’ I admitted casually. All those nights before finals when I’d been restless, coming onto court the next day bone tired, my head anywhere but in the game. The pressure had threatened to crush me. Continuing, I said with a faint smile, thinking only of Oliver, ‘But I’ve been working on new ways to handle that pressure.’
‘The pressure of winning?’
