Page 135 of Game Point
When I pulled back to look at him, I couldn’t help but smile, tears still rolling down my cheeks. ‘I guess I have a trophy to return to you.’
He shook his head; the journey that had led us here and taken me to him in such clear view. ‘We can keep them together on that shelf of yours, make it ours, yeah?’
‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. Then, in full view of the world, I kissed him, making sure everyone knew he was mine.
And I was never giving him up.
44
Dylan
Ribs – Lorde
Oliver sat back in his seat, as he swirled $350-worth of whisky in his glass. He raised it up to the light, squinting.
‘It’s got good legs, this one,’ he remarked.
I laughed bitterly. ‘I’d hope it has fantastic legs, for the price of it.’
We were sat in one of the nicest bars in Melbourne, Oliver claiming his side bet. I thought back to the trophy, tucked away in my hotel room.It still didn’t feel real.
‘We agreed on a drink. We did not agree on the price,’ he reminded.
I rolled my eyes, still recovering from the horror when the bartender had told me the price of the drink.And to think, Oliver had tried to order a double!‘Thank god I didn’t agree to a bar tab.’
‘I would’ve been fair then. I’ve always been a porn star martini kind of guy,’ Oliver said, ‘But you said one drink.’
I laughed a little at the information. He was definitely a fruity cocktail person. I could just see him with a tiny umbrella tucked behind his ear.
‘So, you asked the bartender for the most expensive drink.’
A wide, cheeky smile stretched across his lips. ‘I did indeed.’
‘Do you even like whisky?’ I asked.
He shook his head, expression bitter. ‘Not neat.’ I let out a noise of disapproval, but somehow it got worse. ‘But I thought your head would explode if I asked him to mix it with coke or ginger ale.’
‘It’s twenty-five years old!’ I cried. ‘You can’t mix it!’
He waved a hand at me. ‘I know. But it would taste so good.’
I shook my head at him, taking my own drink, a simple gin and tonic, in my hand, lifting it midway between us to toast. ‘Cheers to you, for winning our bet.’
He shook his head, ‘Cheers toyou,’ he said, a smile so soft it caused an ache in my heart. ‘You did it.’
Hearing those three words felt like exhaling a heavy breath, a weight falling from my shoulders.
I did it.
Every sour word that had been spoken about me, every nickname, every article highlighting how I couldn’t win and would never. I’d proven them wrong. And I knew without Oliver, without his help and the comfort he radiated, I wouldn’t have made it this far. We were a team, even if he wasn’t my coach anymore, and I wanted him by my side.
Our glasses met with a clink. ‘To us,’ I said.
Just as I took my own sip, Oliver spat his out, choking on the liquid.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, unable to stop myself from laughing.
‘My throat is on fire,’ he croaked, grabbing a glass of table water and downing it.
