Page 59 of Game Point (Game, Set, and Match #2)

I knew my answer, but that didn’t mean everyone agreed. The things we’d do to our bodies to win, to reach the pinnacle. We’d pick ourselves up after a car crash and go play in a tournament final. No matter how insane.

‘You weren’t ever what she needed,’ I said, still trying to keep a tight leash on my anger, not make a bigger scene than we already were. ‘You gave up on her. But I, I won’t ever do that.’

She shook her head. ‘I didn’t have to, she gave up on herself. You must have watched her before, in finals. Everyone sits there and watches her unravel over the course of three sets.’ She laughed, ‘Frankly it’s embarrassing she’s still trying.’

‘I can’t wait for her to prove you wrong.

’ I hissed, bitterness lining every word.

‘Whether it’s with me or not, Dylan is one of the hardest working players I’ve ever seen.

She has the inability to stay still, to accept when she’s injured and has to rest. She puts it all out on the court, time and time again. ’

‘The other players are afraid, until she reaches the final,’ she sneered. ‘Then, they know they are going to win. Face it, Oliver. She doesn’t have it in her to win. The pressure always gets the better of her.’

I shook my head once, my jaw set. ‘Not this time.’

And I meant it, despite my anxiety over her injuries; I knew that if she didn’t get hurt again, she would claim her trophy. This was her time. She was playing like a champion because I’d helped her believe she could.

All I needed to do was believe I had done everything I possibly could for her.

Brooke’s eyes narrowed as she stepped forward.

‘You know, Oliver … there’s been some rumours.

You should be more careful about how you talk about her.

’ I pulled back. Her gaze snaked to the door, just as it opened, revealing a confused Dylan.

She paused, looking between us as Brooke added, ‘You can pretty much predict how people are going to react when they find out a player and a coach are sleeping together. It’s never pretty to see. ’

How obvious had I been? I replayed my words, wondering how she knew. Panicked, I looked straight at Dylan, her features still confused, looking from Brooke to me.

Brooke turned, not saying a single word to Dylan as she looked her up and down, before turning back down the corridor. It wasn’t until she was well out of earshot that Dylan’s attention returned to me.

‘What was that about?’ she whispered, her eyes searching mine for an answer.

‘Nothing,’ I managed, wiping my face with my hand. ‘I don’t even know where she came from. She was talking shit.’

‘About what?’ Dylan pushed, but immediately I knew there was no way I was telling her what Brooke had said, her words still leaving me in a rage. ‘Oliver, does she know?’

I shook my head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Turning, I grabbed her racket bag from the bench, throwing the strap over my shoulder to get her back to where we were supposed to be.

‘She knows, doesn’t she? What was she saying?’ she pressed again, catching up to me as I began walking towards the court. All I wanted to do was get her out there playing so we could start to prove Brooke wrong.

I swallowed, turning to face her as we walked. ‘She was saying a lot of shit about you. Stuff you have no business hearing because it’s untrue.’

Dylan muttered under her breath, ‘I bet some of it was true.’

I knew why she wanted to keep us a secret. There was nowhere near the amount of recognition for women as there was for men, for the same accomplishment, less funding and historically less prize money, and the way the media portrayed half of them was fucking evil.

Dylan had worked hard her entire career to never be seen to be weak, she had a reputation for strength and for her brutal playing style.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to hold onto that, for not wanting a relationship to stand in the way of her career or accomplishments, and take away everything she’d worked her entire life for.

But at some point, keeping us a secret was going to backfire. And I knew we could either control it, or let it ruin us. And if it was already getting out …

I sighed, pausing in place. I looked at her, taking in her furrowed brow, the mix of emotions making me hate the last twenty minutes even more. This wasn’t how a pre-match was supposed to go.

‘We are too obvious, Dylan. People are going to figure it out.’ I swallowed, a wave of emotion threatening to wipe me out. ‘I … I didn’t have to say anything because she already knew.’

She bit her lip, a hand pressing against her brow. Slowly, and then all at once, I watched Dylan break apart, heavy hot tears rolling down her cheeks, her teeth biting harder into her lip as she struggled to control her emotions, her face betraying everything she was trying to hide.

I scanned the hallway, trying to see how many people were around. Judging it to be too public, I went to the door behind us, a guiding hand on Dylan’s shoulder as I tried the handle. Thankfully the room was unlocked, as I pulled us into a conference room.

Before the door had even closed behind us, I pulled her into my arms, her face pressing against my white T-shirt.

‘I’m sorry,’ she choked through ragged breaths.

I almost didn’t know how to react, feeling panicked as I watched her open up like this.

It took me a moment to realize, to understand, that this was not weakness from Dylan.

It was trust she could show me this side of her.

Dylan had many faces: competitor, athlete, daughter, sister, auntie.

And I realized, as she sobbed again, no doubt leaving blotches all over my T-shirt, that she had allowed me in, to see all the layers of herself. Even the ones she hid deep down.

Patting her back softly, running my hands across her braids, I said, ‘Just let it out. We have some time.’

‘It’s just … I’m overwhelmed.’ She inhaled deeply, her body rising and falling with the breath as her hands wiped at her face.

‘I’m going to complain,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘They shouldn’t be able to pull you for a test before a semi-final.’

‘It’s not even that I’m worried about the exam,’ she admitted.

‘I have a match to play and I was pulled halfway across the arena to be tested, then there was her and you don’t even need to tell me everything she said.

’ Dylan paused, rolling her eyes as she continued, ‘It’s written all over your face. You would suck as a liar.’

The smallest smile dared to turn at the edges of my lips. ‘Gee thanks.’

‘She knows.’ Dylan said the words as if she was stating a fact, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.

‘She knows,’ I repeated, unsure if a weight has been lifted or placed on me with the truth of the matter.

Dylan sighed as her entire body collapsed in on itself. ‘Avery does too.’

‘How?’ I frantically thought back to watching the match with her. She’d seemed reasonably normal, if only a little quiet. ‘When?’

‘After that match,’ she admitted. ‘We had a fight. She said something about selling the story, but I never believed she’d actually go and do it.’

I sighed heavily, realizing where I’d been. The bathroom, having a panic attack when I should’ve been there to protect her. I’d failed her again.

Something in her expression changed. ‘I … I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘For keeping you a secret.’

My hands found hers, eyes searching her face.

‘It doesn’t matter to me.’ She looked back up, her eyes a piercing accusation.

Liar they read. I cocked my head, ‘Okay, it matters a little. But only in that we have a better chance of controlling how it’s all perceived if we are the ones who talk about it. We can create the narrative.’

‘The narrative will still be that I’m a slutty tennis player who slept with her coach.’

My heart turned heavy at her words, at her assurance that this would be the story.

And could I really argue that we could change the narrative?

This was her life, her career. She knew better than I how the world would react when it didn’t matter to me.

My career as a tennis pro was over, and let’s face it, I hadn’t made much of it as a coach.

I’d taught her exactly what I’d known she needed, put her in contact with the people she needed to help her own anxiety, all the while fuelling my own fear.

Then the answer became clear.

‘Fire me.’

Her eyes grew wide, eyebrows pushing up as her head tilted. ‘What?’

My heart was beating so wildly it felt like it was crashing into my ribcage, but I knew this was the solution. The way out of this mess we were on the precipice of creating. ‘Fire me.’

She took a moment, her mouth opening and closing. She looked away from me, surprise still etched on her face. ‘As my coach or as my boyfriend?’

I couldn’t help the strangled laugh that clambered out of my throat. ‘Coach. I’ve done everything I needed to. I’ve supported you all I can as a coach, and now it’s going to interfere with your career. That’s not a good coach.’

‘You were kind of turning into a hard ass.’

‘You appreciate my hard ass and you know it,’ I smirked, allowing myself to enjoy the lightened moment, the relief at seeing her laugh, however quietly.

Dylan looked around the room as if she was searching for answers. ‘How does this change things?’

‘If we get the story out now, that we aren’t working together anymore, we can get it out before anyone can report that we are dating,’ I explained, hoping she could see what I was trying to do.

Her nose wrinkled as her mouth downturned, clearly unconvinced by my plans.

I continued, desperate to convince her. ‘Then, when it does break, after you win , we can say …’ I licked my lips, buying myself seconds before I let go.

‘We can tell them how … how we became unlikely friends. How we exchanged messages for months, FaceTimed for tennis critiques and watched films together despite being in different cities. And then how I followed you to Australia – and not because I wanted to torture you on the long flight – but because being even further from you made me sick to my stomach. So sick I flew across the world without anywhere to stay and had to trick you into inviting me into your home. How we spent months training together and then when we realized there was something more, we parted ways professionally.’

My mouth ran dry of words, losing my nerve. But one look at her, at her deep eyes drawing me in, and I knew I had to say them. ‘And then I can tell them how I fell in love with you. With your strength and humour and abnormally large DVD collection for the streaming era.’

She laughed once, ‘I still stand by the fact physical copies mean we are the gatekeepers of keeping content alive. If we rely on the internet to remember –’ Dylan glanced at me again, finding my raised eyebrow and stopping in her tracks.

‘And we can tell them nothing happened while we were coaching. It will be their word against ours.’

Dylan took a moment, then with a rare softness, she asked, ‘You love me?’

‘I do,’ I said gently, the feeling too big for my chest. ‘I have for a long time.’ I noticed something in her eyes, an apprehension I immediately couldn’t stand. ‘You don’t have to say –’

‘Of course I love you,’ Dylan said, everything about her soft and vulnerable. I melted against her, unable to control myself.

She loved me. The movement of her lips against mine, a brush of her tongue reminded me of how much I treasured every single moment of our journey here, our friendship; I knew we could survive anything.

‘I don’t want my greatest accomplishment to be erased by our relationship,’ she said, reluctance twisting with every word. ‘I want both of these things to have the attention they deserve.’

‘I know. I understand,’ I said, her words doing nothing to smother the feeling in my heart, instead only growing it. She could tell me how she felt, even if she knew or thought it would hurt me.

For a while, I’d wondered if I’d ever feel like this again, the hurt too raw from my last relationship. But her decisiveness, her blunt and honest personality had shown me that while she might seem pig-headed and arrogant, these were qualities I’d admired in her. Trusted her because of them.

‘Can we wait until after the final?’ she asked. ‘To tell them.’

I smirked, correcting, ‘After you win?’

She nodded. ‘We tell them no matter what happens.’

I lifted my hand, placing my palm against her soft cheek. Every inch of her skin was soft and perfect. ‘You’re going to win. I’d bet on it.’

She laughed softly, chuckling. ‘Don’t though. That’s inside betting.’

‘I promise, I mean it only in spirit.’ I winked. ‘But seriously, I can’t wait to see you stand on that court, with the trophy in your hands. Your hometown match.’

‘You’re going to have to stop. You’ll inflate my ego too much.’

‘Be confident, Dylan. It’s all you need,’ I said, watching the change in her demeanour. From teary eyed, to now, her shoulders drawn back. ‘Now … are you ready?’

‘Yes.’ She sucked in a deep breath, the last remainder of any emotion disappearing. Dylan looked me straight in the eyes. ‘Oliver Anderson. You are fired.’