Page 25 of Game Point (Game, Set, and Match #2)

Oliver

The View Between Villages – Noah Kahan

I’d done something mad. But spending the long flight sitting next to her, in business class no less, didn’t feel too much like a punishment. I didn’t bring up the training again, seeing her reluctance to even consider the possibility she might be making a mistake, and kept my plans to myself.

The notes in my phone had been overflowing with ideas in the last few weeks, with people we could work with, the kind of team we could build.

But instead of discussing coaching, we watched movies, pressing play at the same time and only wearing one earphone so we could still talk, sometimes the entire movie playing in the background.

I couldn’t say the flight passed quickly, but spending time with her in person felt easy after all those months of conversation only over text messages and calls.

With my suitcase and the trophy in hand, I stood outside Dylan’s house, looking at the vast two-storey secluded home. It was surrounded by a wrap-around fence. The driver hadn’t enjoyed waiting for her as Dylan called her sister, trying to remember the security pin to open the gate.

‘Home, sweet home,’ Dylan muttered as she unlocked the front door.

I looked around the vast hallway, ahead the stairs and to my left a doorway leading into a luxurious kitchen and living-room combo.

An open area, a tall ceiling, dark wood beams cutting across, with the living room area at one end of the room, a kitchen at the other.

I let out a low whistle, leaving my suitcase behind. ‘This place is nice.’

She followed me through, heading to the kitchen to inspect the fridge. The light from inside lit up her face. ‘Lennon said she would get us the essentials. Milk, bread, etc. Are you alright with dairy?’

‘Dairy is fine.’ I nodded as I scanned the room, trying to learn all I could about her. A sofa and a couple of armchairs were crowded around a TV, a coffee table sitting in between. ‘Who’s Lennon?’

She moved away from the fridge, the only light in the room coming from the large windows either side, allowing the moonlight to shine in.

There was something about how Dylan looked in the low light, a sultry look that made me too keenly aware of her slim, curving body, long legs, sharp features.

She looked like she could eat me up, and I liked it.

‘My older sister.’ I watched as she walked around as if she was exploring her own home for the first time. Dylan continued, ‘She complained about it, but I pointed out that I was still the baby of the family, even if she has her own kid now.’

‘Once the baby of the family, always the baby.’

She looked at me, and you wouldn’t have known she was fresh off a long-haul flight. ‘Exactly.’

‘How many sisters do you have?’ I caught sight of tall bookcases, countless books displayed. I scanned the shelves, trying to find a title I might have heard of.

‘Two. Both are older,’ she said from behind me. ‘Lennon has one kid and Tessa two, all girls. I’m sure they will be upon us in a couple of days’ time.’

‘Sounds good,’ I smiled, looking over my shoulder at her.

I didn’t have any siblings to make nieces or nephews but some of my cousins’ kids always kept the family BBQs lively, friends’ kids too. They were fun, mischievous once they could run around. Great help on a tennis court when it came to collecting up the balls, too. Free labour and everything.

‘They’re cute.’ She made her way over to me, standing by my side. ‘I don’t get to see them often, but I’m excited for all the hugs and sticky hands.’

I watched her, her own attention lingering at the shelves ahead. I was struck again by how new this looked to her, Dylan clearly exploring around, as I was. She’d called it home, but maybe hadn’t spent enough time to actually feel comfortable here, spending months and months in far-off places.

‘Why is this empty?’ I nodded ahead at the top shelf that was suspiciously bare. The rest of the bookcase was bursting with books, trinkets and photos, but this shelf, in the centre, was completely empty, like its contents had been stolen.

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. ‘Feeling nosy, are we?’

‘Just getting acquainted.’

‘I never really had time to unpack fully,’ she said. ‘There is a second bedroom but it’s still full of boxes. I hope an airbed is okay?’ Dylan looked over at me apprehensively, my attention temporarily drawn to her lips, the bottom one pulled between her teeth.

‘An airbed is fine.’ I was just happy I didn’t have to spend another night in a hotel. I tilted my head towards the shelf again, not quite satisfied. ‘Is that why this is completely empty?’

The unease was clear across her face as she admitted, ‘Not exactly.’

‘Design choice?’

‘It’s dumb.’ Her gaze landed anywhere but on me.

And God, how I grew desperate to be under that spotlight again.

I’d heard people throughout the years, other players discussing how cold and callous she was – on and off court, personally and professionally.

But I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt a warmth like Dylan Bailey’s attention.

It was singular, undivided and focused. It made me feel worthy of her time, spurred me into any action so I could hold it for just a little longer.

I was reluctant to dig any further, clearly reading the discomfort across her features. I offered up an excuse, letting her change the subject. ‘Were you going for minimalism?’

She took in a deep breath. ‘I was saving it.’

‘For the right knick-knacks?’

Dylan shook her head. ‘For a trophy.’

‘You do know they give out second-place trophies, Dylan.’

She laughed, the sound a little bitter. ‘Yes, and my collection is probably somewhere in the bedroom.’ She cleared her throat. ‘But keeping this shelf empty was supposed to “motivate” me to win. Bring home a winner’s trophy and put it here.’

Something settled uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. ‘Did you really think that was a good idea?’

‘Felt like I was manifesting.’

I weighed how I’d feel if I left an empty shelf at home, haunting me for not being able to close out a tennis match. ‘Feels more like you were punishing yourself.’

She laughed again. ‘A little from column A, a little from column B.’

Her eyes found mine, the spotlight returning. For the first time, I felt like I could see past that hard, grumpy exterior I enjoyed, and instead, caught a glimpse behind the armour, to that delicate centre. Where she kept her heart, battered and bruised from crushed hope, safe from the world.

Dylan Bailey was a warrior, and even if hidden, she still had the battle scars to prove it.

‘Stay here,’ I said, heading towards the door.

‘What are you doing?’ her voice cried from behind me. ‘Oliver?’

I went back into the hallway, eyeing the velvet bag that I had set down beside my suitcase. I took a moment, remembering that day on court when I earned it. That day had meant everything, the very pinnacle I’d worked towards in my career.

Her day would come, but until then, I wouldn’t have this empty shelf haunting her.

Heading back into the room, I said, ‘If you hate me for this, then fine.’ I took a deep breath in as I closed the gap between us, meeting her again at the shelf. ‘Fill the shelf, Dylan.’

She stared at my hands, the snow globe with a replica Beijing skyline held out towards her. I’d spotted it in the airport, taking a moment to grab the souvenir, as it instantly reminded me of her.

‘It was a paperweight I threw,’ Dylan recalled, her voice cracking a little as she looked up at me. ‘Not a snow globe.’

I shrugged. ‘Do you think I’d give you your weapon of choice just after you agree to let me coach you.’

‘I did not agree to that.’

‘I give it a week.’

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything, falling uncharacteristically silent.

‘Stop torturing yourself with this shelf. It deserves to have something to display. It looks so sad and abandoned.’ I lifted it towards her again, urging her to take it. She took the plastic object from me, the glitter shimmering around as her fingers inspected.

She was resistant, but there was also something in her eyes, a glint, that told me something else. Her voice was a little hoarse as she said, ‘I suppose.’

‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I know what this means,’ I offered, trying my best not to overstep again.

‘Can I see it?’ she asked. My brows furrowed in question. ‘Your trophy.’

I nodded, leaving her alone in the living room again. When I returned, heavy velvet bag in hand, the snow globe was unceremoniously sat on the shelf, my heart swelling at the sight. Progress.

A small curve grew across her lips as I pulled it from the bag, the silver still as shiny as the day I had first held it. Her eyes flickered to the trophy as she stretched out, taking the shining silver from me.

‘You drank out of this?’

‘I do not recommend it,’ I replied, the memory of a slight metallic taste returning to my tongue.

Dylan looked down at the trophy it as if it was as precious as a newborn. She turned, stretching up to place the trophy next to the snow globe.

‘She does look very pretty,’ she commented.

I was almost tempted to stretch my hand out towards Dylan’s, interlace her fingers in mine. ‘And doesn’t the shelf already feel a little less scary?’

‘Maybe.’ Dylan took a step away, her hands rubbing at her face, her eyes tired. ‘I’m exhausted. Let’s get that airbed blown up and then you can start to make yourself comfortable.’

I nodded, letting her lead the way out of the living room, and back to our bags in the hallway.

‘Let me take that up,’ I offered as she reached for her suitcase. ‘You can show me the room.’

Dylan paused, a hand going to her hip. ‘I am strong enough to take my suitcase upstairs, you know.’

‘I know.’ I didn’t dare mention the fractured ribs and the doctor’s orders. I also tried to ignore the fact I wanted to help her in whatever small ways she’d let me. Instead, I joked, ‘Let me earn my keep.’

She rolled her eyes, turning and mumbling all the way up the stairs, complaining about toxic masculinity, but I pretended not to hear, a suitcase in either hand as I followed her up.

She led me to the guest room, apologizing as she opened the door, ‘I’m sorry about all the boxes. I can start clearing the room out tomorrow.’

The bedroom would be spacious if it hadn’t been for the mountain of boxes, all stacked against one wall. She really hadn’t unpacked.

‘I’ll be fine. I’m used to worse,’ I said as she opened a box labelled ‘Guest’, digging inside for something. ‘It’s a nice place.’

‘Thanks.’ She pulled out a smaller box. ‘Now you can see why I’ve been homesick.’

‘With a place like this? I can understand,’ I said, ‘Is there a gym?’

She nodded her head towards the window. ‘At the other end of the garden. There’s a community tennis court nearby too.’

‘Nice.’ I stepped closer to the window. There wasn’t a lot to see through the darkness, but enough for me to make out a yard pool and the garage I suspected was used for the gym.

Dylan started to unpack an airbed, rolling it out along the floor. I reached out to help, ‘I can handle the airbed if you’re tired.’

‘No, it’s the least I can do. I would’ve offered you the actual bed, but I’ve been dreaming of my mattress since I left.’

‘I wouldn’t have accepted it from you anyway,’ I said, thinking about her ribs. I knew she was tired, knew how long she’d wanted to climb into a bed that was hers. ‘Go to bed. I can handle this.’

‘Are you sure?’ She looked over at me, a little guilty. ‘I’m being a terrible host.’

‘You are nothing of the sort. I’m the lodger,’ I smiled politely over at her, only feeling incredibly grateful for her hospitality during this surprise trip. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Let me get you some bedding.’ She left the room as I carried on with her work, plugging in the blow up bed. It took a few minutes, but by time Dylan returned, arms full of a large duvet and a couple of pillows, it was fully inflated. She placed them on the mattress.

Dylan watched me prepare the rest of the room, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes half-closed. ‘There’s some cereal in the kitchen, if you want breakfast tomorrow.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, trying to stifle my own yawn. ‘I think I’ll be sleeping in late at this rate.’

‘It’s been a long couple of days.’

The room was barely a bedroom, but no matter what, there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be, not if she wasn’t there with me.

I sent Dylan a tired smile. ‘I do appreciate you letting me crash here.’

Her eyes caught mine, a glint of something there.

Then she caught me by surprise, her arms wrapping around my body, pulling me close into her.

I hesitated only for a split second, not anticipating the forced proximity of her body to mine, but I relaxed easily into the embrace, my arms encircling her.

And as much as the hug was a surprise, the bigger surprise was how good it felt to have her this close to me, the brush of her skin against mine, her head tucking into my shoulder.

‘It’s nice to have company,’ she murmured against my shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘Goodnight, Oliver.’

On an instinct I didn’t know I had, I closed my eyes, tightening my arms to stop her leaving.

‘Goodnight, Dylan.’ I breathed in the last of her before her limbs untangled from around me.

Stepping back, she sent me a small, sleepy smile. ‘Sleep well. If you need anything, just shout.’

‘Will do,’ I said, watching her as she headed down the hallway, her steps slow and heavy. She opened the second door in the hallway and I realized how close her bedroom was to mine.

We were used to distance, miles and miles of it. Now, all that separated us was a wall.

Closing my own door, I finished setting myself up for bed, leaving unpacking for the morning, sleeping in only the briefs I already had on.

I had expected to fall asleep quickly, given the travelling.

But instead, I lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of my friend just down the hallway from me, and how her arms had felt around me, her body close to mine.

And, when I was starting to drift off, I was sure that these sheets smelled of her, her shampoo scent familiar after one hug, and suddenly, I was wide awake once again.