Matchpoint

Chapter 49:

I'm walking through the hall, a bouncing blonde by my side. After talking with Stack, I knew I needed to talk to my mother sooner rather than later. It's taken me a while to gain my confidence. Ever since my parents have been home, they've been nothing but miserable. That, or hiding away on the courts, trying to turn a corner with Dom. But nothing seems to be working. Every time they arrive home in the evening, they're quick to return to the office to have a chat, which I'm sure is to debrief the let down Dom has become.

"So, how are you going to raise it?" Holly asks beside me, her hair up in its usual tight pony tail, and she's dressed in this super cut brown tennis skirt and white shirt.

It's been nice to have blondie back by my side. It was such a proud moment to watch Holly in the semi-finals. She sadly didn't make it into the finals, but to be in the top four and have had such a fighting chance, goodness, it was so special. And since then, her confidence has sky rocketed. She's certainly ready for Wimbeldon.

"Um, I don't know, just go straight into it, I guess," I shrug, chewing on my bottom lip.

"You have to have a plan. This is do or die," Holly bumps her hip into mine, causing me to fumble slightly, but it's not until I'm colliding into a firm chest that I realise why she did it. 

Green. Green. Green.

My heart stops, and my body freezes. I've been starved of contact for too long, and here he is, standing before me, arms wrapped around my waist like some cliche romance movie.

Fuck.

"Clove," his face breaks, as a small smile blesses his lips. But it doesn't take away from the clear bags beneath his eyes and the hoarseness of his voice.

"Dom," I don't even remember sliding my palm against his forearm, but now that it's there, I simply can't let go.

"Right, well, I'll be on my way!" Holly chirps, skipping down the hall and towards the stairs leading to the main foyer. Sneaky bitch.

"I watched-"
"I'm guessing you saw-" Dom and I speak at the same time, resulting in a burst of laughter.

"Yeah, I saw," I whisper, squeezing his arm tightly.

"Had a shocker." Dom smirks, but his eyes keep darting down to my lips. He's playing a dangerous game, one we've played many times before.

"Dom, don't, you know what you're capable of." I insist, and with that, I'm swept up into Dom's presence.

Our lips are slow, methodical. It eases the craving I've had for so long. The heat causes me to lose all control, and suddenly, my hands are pulling at his hair and pushing him up against the hall wall. Fuck.

His tongue sweeps against mine, and as he does so, I release a breathless gasp. I forget why I'm even here.

I softly scrunch his hair, my nails digging into his scalp, earning me a satisfied groan. I can feel his chest, hot against mine, and his hands, I can feel them against my lower back, sliding slightly beneath the waistband of my tights.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Dom whispers against my mouth, his words vibrating through my body. "It's driving me insane that we're being forced to be a part, like we're children."

"It's fucked." I agree, dragging my hands from his hair and down to his chest. "What are they doing to you?"

I can't help but ask the question. I've got him right in front of me, I need to know how they're treating him.

"It's torture, Clove," he lifts his thumb and brushes it graciously against my cheek.

I can't tell him I'm going to talk to my mother. I can't get his hopes up.