Page 84 of Game Point
‘I think I’m going to head to bed early,’ I rasped, pushing myself up from the floor. Every extra inch of distance I created between us felt like a prick against my skin.
‘You promised me we’d watch a film!’ Dylan cried, looking up at me with big, sad eyes. The other day, she’d come back from a visit to her parents, a DVD player held proudly in her arms. I’d only shaken my head at her, tellingher we weren’t even plugging it in until practice was over. Since then, I’d run her ragged around the court and as a reward, she’d picked a movie from her collection for us to watch.
‘I’m exhausted.’ The little white lie forced a yawn from my lips. I was tired, but I could’ve stayed up with her, watching whatever film she’d pick. But all I’d do was sit there, remembering our one night together, more mesmerized by her than the film.
She was like a drug I needed some time to be sober from. Even if it was just a night, pretending to sleep on the air mattress, waiting for her to go to bed so I could sneak back downstairs and sleep on the sofa.
‘Okay,’ she said, exhaling softly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Seven am sharp. We’ve got a big day.’
Her hand curled into a two-finger salute. ‘You got it, Coach Anderson.’
A strangled laugh escaped me. She’d been calling me that since our first practice session, teasing me with her new nickname.
‘Goodnight, brat.’ I turned to leave, catching only a quick glance of what I swore were rosy red cheeks and a suppressed smile.
28
Oliver
I Think He Knows – Taylor Swift
‘Alright, we can call it there for today,’ I said, Dylan scoring another game point, her short skirt fluttering in the air, revealing a tease of the shorts underneath. We were in a tie break, one more point and she’d take the match.
She grinned wildly from across the court, her hand raised to block the sun from her eyes. ‘Are you ending it because I was kicking your ass in the final set?’
‘No.’ I headed to the sidelines, collecting discarded balls. I motioned my racket across the court. ‘Unless you still have some energy for more drills?’
‘Nope,’ she replied quickly. ‘Absolutely exhausted.’
She was right, I had ended it before she won. But since I was the coach, I made the rules.
‘Are you sure? We still have time for some suicides?’ I added, all those years of my own teasing coaches coming back. I had hated whenever they were hard asses, but now I was in their shoes, I could understand the value – and fun – of it all.
‘Wow, guess we should pick up all these balls.’ She leaned down to clean up, and I had to force my gaze up, avoiding the view down her crop top.
I continued cleaning up my side of the court, silentlybegging for her to find longer clothing in her wardrobe. We met at the ball cage at the side of the court.
‘You still need to watch out for your sliding,’ I said, as we walked side by side over to the bench. ‘You can hurt yourself if it’s uncontrolled.’
She pushed her long hair back over her shoulder. ‘It is controlled.’
‘But one misstep –’
‘– and it’s bye bye trophy,’ she interrupted.
‘Goodbye tennis career is more likely,’ I corrected. The court cleaned up, we threw our bags over our shoulders, and headed towards the exit, the sun low in the evening sky. We’d spent most of the afternoon out here doing various drills before we ended the day with a practice match. In the morning, she’d seen her physio, gone through her gym routine at a private session with a PT who specialized with professional athletes, and I’d met with Amy, the psychologist, to make sure we were working together to help Dylan manage her anxiety.
‘I’ll be careful, promise,’ she said. ‘Can we order take out?’
‘After your mum dropped off all those premade meals for us?’ Our cooking skills had remained pretty basic, and after her mum learned we’d basically been living off supermarket ready meals, she helped us out, remembering a lot of the high-protein meals Dylan had devoured during her training as a teenager.
She let out a noise of complaint as I closed the gate to the court behind us. ‘There is only so long I can live off chicken, beans and sweet potato.’
‘And we will continue for as long as your mum offers to prepare meals for us.’ We walked back to her house.‘But I think she dropped off some dessert,’ I offered as a consolation.
She beamed at me. ‘Peach cobbler. They have a tree in their yard.’
