Matchpoint

Chapter 3:

Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring.

There he stands, in my hallway, near my kitchen, in my house. What the actual fuck.

I'm frozen on the stairs, caught between running right back up them or acting nonchalant and just breeze right past my parents and Dominic Fraser. Of course, he is here in my house, of course, my parents invited him for dinner. They're like puppies. They are gracing the ground he walks on and rolling on their backs in front of him.

Before I have a chance to escape the scene and pretend I do not exist, my mother catches sight of me and squeals in delight.

"Oh Dom, I must introduce you to our daughter," Mother turns Dominic, and the moment his eyes meet mine, a smug smirk slips comfortably onto his face. "This is Clove!"

Dom holds out his hand once again, and I slip mine into his, the familiarity sending me into the feeling of deja vu. "Well, this makes sense." Dom chuckles, causing my mother's eyebrows to raise in confusion. "I met Clove earlier, or at least, I watched her play, she's remarkable, and that all makes sense now as she is the product of the two of you."

God, even the way he talks, as if he is sucking up to my parents. "Indeed, our baby is incredible if only she'd take advantage of that." Mother concedes as she walks away and heads into the kitchen, Dom and I following in toe.

"Oh, so not a professional?" Dom queries, his eyes sliding over towards me, and I grant him an unpleasant scowl, which earns me a pleased smile in return.

"Unfortunately not, Clove, decided she wanted to go to university." It's as if my mother thinks that playing professional was ever an option.

"And Clove is standing right here." I mutter as I grab the plates and begin setting them up around the dining table.

"So, what do you study?" Dom questions me, grabbing the cutlery on the table and bringing it over to set up with me.

"Sport science, specifically physiotherapy." I respond, and Dom looks at me with curiosity.

"Well, that's a damn shame because you're darn talented." He looks at me, I watch his eyes slide over my body, and I hate that my stomach jitters from within.

"You've watched me play once against a girl who was hardly concentrating because she was too caught up trying to impress you." I backfire and watch as my mum glares at me from behind Dom.

"I suppose." Dom shrugs, and it feels suddenly so weird to be in the same room as him. This famous player that we are clueless about the reasons why his coach got arrested.

Mother asks me to grab dad from his study, I think it's an effort to get me to calm down. I have always had a bit of a temper, I can't help it, when I'm rubbed the wrong way, of course I'm going to bite back. And something about Dominic Fraser makes my blood boil.

As I leave the room, I glance over my shoulder at Dom, only to notice he's already looking at me, eyes skimming my face as if he is a security camera trying to read who I am. I'm not an open book, I don't like letting people read my emotions or my feelings, especially not idiots like Dominic Fraser.

Upon my return, I overhear Dominic talking to my mother. "So, she's never played professionally? Like at all?"

Mother makes releases small sigh from where she stands at the kitchen bench. "No, unfortunately not, she loves the sport, but never wanted to play professionally."

"Must be disappointing for you." Dominic responds, and my mother is silent, so I enter the room to ease the tension.

"Father will be down in a moment." My eyes hardly look over at my mother. Instead, I stare directly at Dominic, unable to shake the frustration that is building in my body, like a pot waiting to overflow.