Page 81 of Game Point
The space between his brows creased closed, ‘After barely thirty minutes of practice?’
‘No,’ I pressed my hand to the ground, pushing myself to my feet. ‘After last night,’ I added thoughtlessly, my hands brushing against each other to get rid of the dust from the court. When my attention slid back to him, his shoulders sloped, his throat bobbing.
‘Oh,’ he said, the air turning tight and awkward.
I realized my mistake. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realize we weren’t supposed to talk about it.’
‘It’s not like that,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s just …’ he trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence.
It’ll be easier to go back to being friends if we don’t.
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I know. Friends.’ I forced a smile, watching as the nervous look across his face smoothed out.
He swallowed. ‘Best friends when we aren’t courtside. Coach and player when we are.’
I raised an eyebrow, a hand on my hip. ‘Does that mean I can complain about my new coach to my bestie?’
‘Only if I can complain about the brat I’m training.’
‘I amnota brat.’
‘Oh yeah?’ He smiled cunningly. ‘Let’s see some suicides.’ Instantly, my shoulders collapsed at the thought of the drill, running from side to side relentlessly until he said stop.
‘Come on!’ I complained, my body already feeling the pain of the exercise. I folded my arms. ‘Really?’
He nodded once. ‘Really.’
‘I was supposed to start with light movement.’
Oliver shrugged his shoulders. ‘This is a light movement.’
‘Maybe in hell.’
‘Quit being a brat and get on with it.’
Instantly my gaze snapped back to him. Was Isupposedto feel this way about that nickname? I shook my head, trying to push away the thought. It was nothing, just a stupid name that made me feel as if my already thumping heart required cardiac assistance.
‘You know I’m starting to regret agreeing to this,’ I complained, walking behind the first sideline and getting into position to run the first set.
‘Hey,’ Oliver said. ‘Say the word and I’ll go back to England. Still have that plane ticket.’
I didn’t dare to reply, half convinced I’d tell him to go. Instead, I started to run, reaching the other side, tapping the ground and running back. Each time I passed him, I stuck up my middle finger at him, taking whatever sweet revenge I could gain.
He laughed, the sound still sweet, even if it had the Coach Anderson evil edge to it. And all I could think about was his full-bodied laughter last night, when we fell off the bed. How we laughed into each other, my head in the crook of his neck.
It was then I realized that while it might be easier to go back to being friends if we didn’t talk about it, it didn’t mean I couldn’tnotthink about it. It might have been easier too, forgetting every beautiful sin I’d committed, if I stopped with each memory as if they were precious jewels I was afraid to let slip through my fingers.
One night, we’d promised.Sworn to each other.But now I had tied myself to him, caught up in his pull. Helpless to whatever would come.
27
Oliver
Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) – Taylor Swift
‘You know, when you first forced yourself into my home –’
‘I’m pretty sure you invited me to stay,’ I interrupted Dylan before she could continue. I stood beside her, Dylan lounging on the sofa. We were a few weeks into practising, and the results had been mixed. On one hand, it was great to see her on the court again, back where she belonged, and when she was focused, it was amazing to see a real force behind her, the full power of her playing skills unleashed.
