Page 111 of Ace My Heart

“What happened?” I asked quietly, leaning closer to him.

“She’s made it pretty clear what she thinks of me.”

“Who is it?” I gasped. “Are youstillin love with her? What does it feel like?” I leaned against his side, our eyes locked into each other’s. His face was inscrutable.

“It feels like a constant ache, here.” He placed a hand over the centre of his chest. I found myself mirroring the movement. My heart thrummed against my palm.

Then Joel broke into a smile and slung an arm around me. “But it doesn’t matter, Mel. Who needs love anyway when I’ve got you around to annoy?”

I sighed, but I didn’t pull away. I let him hold me against him. I should move away from him, put that all important distance between us. But the stupid, reckless, infatuated part of my brain wouldn’t let me. I remained under his arm on the lounge,pretending to watch TV when really I was imagining us naked, his lips … his hands … his tongue … exploring me everywhere.

Jesus, Mel, get a grip! You can’t have that with Joel. Sex will ruin what you two have right now. You can’t do that. Ever.

Round three versus Katinka Norieva. I was cold and detached on court. There was no room for nerves – all the emotions roiling inside me when I was alone with Joel had sapped all the strength for any other feelings out of me.

This was a good thing, I decided, when I won the second set and consequently the match. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d won two back-to-back matches in straight sets.

Joel rubbed my back as I walked into the change room. “Congratulations, Stinky. Two days off now until your next match. Anything you want to do?”

You, I thought, then blushed. Joel looked at me curiously.

“I think I should train extra hard over the weekend. I want to keep up this straight sets winning streak if possible.” I kept my voice light, afraid that he’d hear something in my tone that would twig him to what was really going on inside my head.

Joel shrugged. “If that’s what you want, I’ll support you. I told you I had a good feeling about this one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Joel. I get into finals all the time, but this isWimbledon. I’m not going to win.”

He nudged me with his shoulder. “Not with that sort of attitude you won’t. Stink, I know you hate watching yourself play, but I think we’ll watch the footage of that game between now and your next match. You were incredible. I need you to realise that.”

I decided to humour him.

Round four versus Abigail Petersen. I went into it with a whole new outlook. No longer cold and distant.

I’d spent the previous night lying on the lounge while he sat on the floor, his head next to mine, providing me with a running commentary of my game against Norieva. And I had been able to forget that his lips were within kissing distance of mine. Now, I had something else to focus on.

I was going to win Wimbledon. Watching the game back had made me see something clearly for the first time – I was playing the best tennis of my life, and if I was ever going to win, it was going to be now.

We’d spent the hour after that going over Petersen’s game – her strengths, her weaknesses. We’d strategised. I’d never been more prepared going into a game.

It paid off. Another straight sets win – six one, six one. Joel winked at me as he walked into the change room, bumping my fist with his own. I grinned, feeling relieved that the tension between us seemed to have dissipated … for now at least.

Quarter-finals here I come.

Saturn Phillips. The world number one player. She was six feet of pure muscle and she terrified me. Never mind the fact that I’d never played her before, but her sheer power … it was overwhelming. And she didn’t just grunt when she hit the ball. She screamed, which was pretty off-putting.

“Don’t get worked up about it, Stink. Just keep your cool, like you have been for the last four rounds, and you’ll be fine. You’re onfire– the media is touting you the player to watch. You’ve got this in the bag. Saturn’s getting old – you’re younger, faster and fitter.”

I gave Joel a weak smile and let him pat me on the cheek, my head spinning that I was about to face down the world number one player in the quarter-final of the biggest tournament of the year.

I won the first set. Saturn won the second and she was burning up the court. I felt my grip on the match slipping as she won the third game of the final set. I hadn’t won a game in this set yet andjudging by the strength with which she was sending the ball my way, I wasn’t sure I would.

I lined up on the baseline and allowed myself a brief glance up into the stands at Joel before I served. He grinned at me. I chuckled under my breath, feeling my fear vanish. I served.

Saturn didn’t score any more points after that. I won the third set and the match.

Semi-final versus Joanne Mercer. I’d only played her once and she’d beaten me.

Again, Joel spent my day off going over her past few matches and together we dissected her game.

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