Love All

Fifteen Love

"Sorry.... sorry.... my apologies.... sorry.,.." Cara had been scarlet by the time she got to her seat. Picking her way along the forest of legs and hurricane of tuts and moans,  it wasn't just the heat making her flustered. Being late was shockingly bad form - or so the rabid fans in the seats around her made her VERY well aware of.  She'd sat down and tried to be anonymous, ignoring the glares stabbing her in the back.  The brief encounter with Tom had been a wonderful salve to her guilty conscience at being late.

Now?  Now, she couldn't give an Umpire's shout what they thought.  Tom Hiddleston was currently arranging his very long legs into the narrow gap beside her.  As he settled, wriggling in his seat, his thigh rested against hers, and she almost swallowed her entire wineglass, never mind the wholly inadequate Chardonnay it contained.  It wasn't alcohol she needed at this point. It was ketamine sedation!

"Sorry love, not quite built for these seats, I'm afraid.  Wish I was as perfectly sized as you!" he whispered in her ear, and she felt herself combust.  'Hiddlescharm' to the power of one hundred, and he'd only been there two minutes.  She'd never last the entire match at this rate.  It crossed her mind to wonder if there were court side defibrillators.  She had a feeling she might need it.

"Oh, I've often wished I had them...." she blurted out, waving her hand over the thighs currently warming hers, then realising her filter had completely failed her. She closed her eyes and died. "I meant... your legs... no, not YOUR actual legs. I meant longer...." Now she dropped her head and fell silent. Kill me now, she thought.  Tom looked at her and then roared with laughter in the silence, drawing a stern look from the player about to serve not twenty feet away..  

Holding his hands up in apology, he leaned into Cara, currently covering her face with her hands as she tried to resemble a human being. "It's ok, I know what you mean, and anyway, you can't have my legs, I kind of need them, darling? Anything else?  Well, we can discuss that. Maybe over lunch when this is done?"  He side-eyed her, praying for a good reaction. He got one, maybe not the one he'd expected.

"Lunch!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock, making the Umpire swivel in his seat. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, can I PLEASE have quiet." he stared at her and then turned away.  Tom and Cara hung their heads, now almost hysterical with silent laughter, their faces red, and their shoulders shaking.  All around, the sound of disapproval echoed in their ears.

"You are SUCH a bad influence, Cara!" he whispered, a wicked glint in his eye.  "Twenty minutes in, and you're getting me into all sorts of trouble.  What AM I going to do with you?" he couldn't believe what he was doing, what he was saying.  What HAD she, in fact, done to him?

"ME?  I think you'll find you started it, Mr Hiddleston, with your impossibly long legs!" she whispered back, grinning from ear to ear now.  As she looked at him from under her lashes,  her heart raced.  Was he REALLY flirting with her and good God almighty? Was she flirting back?  This wasn't real.  It couldn't be.

"Well, let's argue the point later, for now?  Let's watch the tennis.  Don't know about you, but it WAS actually what I came here for." he winked and settled back, subtly leaning against her, arms crossed.  What the world couldn't see was that because they were scrunched up so closely, that small gesture meant the hand out of sight? Tucked under his other arm?  Well, it was gently stroking her arm where no one else could see. 

"Would you like me to keep you right?" he asked her pleasantly, looking at the court with an air of casual innocence once the game had started and they could make muted small-talk. 

"Yes, yes, please," she replied, trying to keep a lid on her excitement. "I really am out of my depth with all this. " she prayed he could read the real meaning.  Her prayer was seemingly answered.

"Oh, don't worry, darling, I want you to know exactly what's happening. I think it would be very nice for you to be well acquainted with everything that's going on. Sometimes, the most random things can be surprisingly.... exciting." he looked at her, and his face told her everything she needed to know.

For a moment, they looked at each other, the world around them fading to a hum. Instictively, his hand came to rest on her knee, his mind screaming. KISS HER you fool!  Ever the realist, Tom took a deep breath instead, blinking a few times.  He'd never dreamed that this could happen, whatever "this" was.  He just knew it was up to him to make sure it did, and that, above all, Cara was happy.  Yes, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, was suddenly the single most important thing.  He had to take it calmly, though, not be that man.  Brain, Hiddles, he said to himself, engage the brain.  Talk to her.  About... how you want to kiss her.... STOP IT talk to her about tennis...

Taking a deep breath, he turned to the court and pointed at the ongoing play.  "So, anything you're not sure about yet?"

Cara smiled and bit her lip.  This was NOTHING like the Wimbledon experience she'd been anticipating when she arrived that morning, and she was sure Tom felt pretty much the same way.  She'd been sure he was about to kiss her, and although he hadn't, strangely, she felt content. They had to be calm. This was a public place.  He was who he was. She was just a random stranger - turned friend.  Don't make it into something it's not, she told herself.  But what WAS it exactly?  She was burning to find out.  In private.

Tom had done the sensible thing. She knew that.  Tennis.  They were here for tennis.  She should make the most of it.  When else would she get such a wonderful tutor?  Now, an hour into the match, her tutor was sitting forward elbows on knees, almost not breathing with excitement.  This was set point, win this, and it went to a third, possibly more.  The match had turned out to be thrilling - a more junior player taking on and subsequently thrashing a top seed.  It had all the makings of a classic.  So had they.  A classic romance.

As the points had gone on, Tom had become more and more animated, explaining a move here and berating a bad call there.  His enthusiasm had won her over and now?  Now, she was almost as invested in the outcome as him.  Almost,  there was still a tiny element of her that didn't give a hoot.  And why?  Well, HE was the reason.  No matter what the outcome of the match, she had spent it with Tom.  Actual Tom.  And what was more?  They still had lunch to come. Was this the start of something more than to coin a phrase, just a serve and volley?  Would this go the full five sets?  

As he turned and looked at her, his eyes crinkled, and his smile wide, she began to think it just might. Life - and blossoming romance - just didn't get any better.  

Or so she thought....