Page 43 of Match Point

“Still though. I don’t care. And I definitely don’t think women weaken legs.” He curled an arm around my waist. “Especially not a week before my first match.”

“Good. As long as this doesn’t affect your performance.”

He gave me a crooked grin, then brushed a lock of blond hair away from his eyes. “Why do you ask? Does Dominic think women weaken legs?”

“No.”

“So you’re admitting you two have engaged in physical activity before a tournament?”

“You know we have,” I pointed out. “At the Australian Open.”

“Oh. Right.” He chuckled. “Doing this thenightbefore a match… that might be a mistake. I’m surprised a guy like Dominic would do that.”

“What do you mean, a guy like Dominic?”

“Someone focused, driven,” he replied.

“Well, it wasn’t planned. It just sort of happened at the welcome dinner.”

Tristan gasped. “You guys did itat the welcome dinner?”

I gave him a playful shove. “I’m surprised you’re not more jealous. Especially considering the grudge you held for so long.”

The tall Aussie shrugged. “I’m a little jealous. But fourteen years is a long time to forget.”

“That didn’t stop you from getting all butt-hurt about it in Melbourne,” I pointed out.

“I was injured there. I wasn’t myself.” He sat up with me and caressed my cheek. “Sorry. That’s no excuse. But I can promise I won’t be jealous now. As long as I get to keep doingthiswith you.” He punctuated the statement with a long kiss.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing either,” I agreed. “But Dominic…”

“I don’t care what you do with him,” Tristan insisted. “Something casual makes sense for me right now. Life is too busy with tennis to devote to a full relationship. So I’ll have fun with you as long as you’re willing.”

I nodded along, but I knew this might be a problem long-term. I had felt the same way as Tristan when I was playing tennis, but now that I was retired? Iwantedsomething more serious. Something with the potential to become long-term. I wanted to find my soul mate, the person I would spend the rest of my life with. For the first time since I was a teenager, that felt like a realistic desire rather than a fantasy.

We slept together once,I told myself.There’s no need to overthink it. Not yet.

“You’re pretty buzzed right now,” I said. “How do I know you won’t change your mind about all of this in the morning?”

“First of all, I’m proper drunk,” he replied, slurring his words for good measure. “And you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Fair enough.”

“There’s just one problem,” Tristan said.

I frowned. “What?”

“Who are you going to root for in the semifinals? Dominic, or the far more handsome man you’re presently in bed with?”

“You’re assuming you’ll both make it to the semis? Wow, way to jinx it.”

“I’m not superstitious.”

“Well, maybe you should be alittlestitious,” I replied. “Wouldn’t want to upset the tennis gods.”

He tilted his head to one side while watching me. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I am, because the truth is: I don’t know who I would root for if you two face off.”

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