Page 8 of Game Point
I followed him out of the car, my hands wringing together as social anxiety started to kick in. Oliver was on his phone as we headed through the glass doors, entering the lobby of the hotel.
‘I think I’ll head up,’ I said, as he began to head to the hotel bar.
His head twisted to look at me. ‘What happened to needing a friend to talk to?’
I shrugged, my entire body turning hot. ‘You were heading to bed. I feel like I’m being a nuisance and –’
‘You aren’t,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘Being a nuisance, that is. You’re saving me from being horribly boring and spending my last night in New York flicking through a hundred channels before settling on the first option.’
I could feel my anxiety pulling me towards the lift, the call of the relative safety of the empty room where I could overthink everything.
‘I need to get up early,’ he countered. ‘That’s why I agreed to one small innocent drink. Or is that not what you promised?’
‘Are you sure?’
He didn’t give me another chance to change my mind. ‘Come on. It’s on me.’
Taking a deep breath, we headed into the bar, patrons scattered around the wide space. Oliver walked right up, a kind smile on his face as he ordered his drink from the bartender.
‘Can I have a Jack and Diet Coke and …’ He trailed off, looking over his shoulder at me.
All other drink options left my brain, leaving me on autopilot as my eyes scanned the bottles at the back of the bar, before I found myself saying, ‘I’ll have the same.’
‘Two please.’
The bartender nodded, walking away to make our drinks.
‘If you find us somewhere to sit, I’ll bring the drinks over,’ Oliver instructed. I swallowed as I looked around, trying to find a seat. There were plenty of options, but my overloaded, overthinking brain refused to focus on a final choice. I didn’t realize how long I had been standing debating the pros and cons of a booth over a table seat when Oliver came up behind me, passing my drink to me.
‘How about we sit over here?’ he said, pointing towards an empty booth. I nodded and followed him, still feeling an invisible tether between me and the elevators. How quickly could I finish this drink and leave him be?
Silently, I cursed Inés. This is exactly why I stay locked in my room for as long as possible. Being around people and champagne, after another loss, it loosened my lips. Oliver relaxed into the seat, smiling over at me as I struggled for an excuse to leave him alone.
He broke the silence. ‘What was wrong with him?’
‘Who?’ I lifted my glass to my lips, taking a sip of the sweet liquid.
‘Felix,’ he answered.
‘I mean … nothing really.’ I winced. ‘I didn’t think we had anything in common.’
‘Did youneedanything in common?’ He almost laughed. ‘And tennis? Isn’t that enough?’
‘It’s like talking about work. Sometimes, you want a night off.’
‘And what do you think we are going to talk about?’
‘Touché,’ I said, finding the courage to ask the question that had been lingering on my mind all night. ‘How are you this cool about it? Second place.’
He scoffed, ‘I mean, I’m disappointed. It was a hard competition, and to come this close, only to lose to Ruari. But you know, it was the same at Roland Garros. He’s having a good year. You win some; you lose some.’
‘I haven’t won any.’
‘I thought you won Wimbledon a couple of years ago?’ His words were an unintentional gut punch, the pain of the old wound still not fully healed.
I took a long sip from my drink, hoping to drown the bitterness in my tone. ‘Doesn’t count if your opponent was disqualified for cheating. And imagine that being theonlytime you’ve won a slam.’
He winced at my words as if he couldn’t stand it himself. Under the table my leg began to bounce nervously.
