Page 3 of Ace My Heart

I grinned fiercely at him. “Of course. Now get out so I can freeze my tits off in peace.”

I sank into the ice water, trying not to wince. I thought about how Brad had clutched at his balls when I described to him the sensation of first getting into an ice bath.

“Oh jeez, Mel, why would you do that to yourself? I think my testicles have gone into hiding just thinking about it!”

I chuckled, glad that Brad and Amanda had been able to use my family passes. I wondered idly as my body started to go pleasantly numb if their presence had made a difference to my game today. Maybe.

This could be the tournament you win, Mel, I reminded myself. Katinka Norieva next, and then who? Probably Saturn Phillips – she hadn’t missed a final for ages. It would take some sort of miracle for me to beat her. But hey, if I could believe in curses, I could believe in miracles, right?

I climbed out of the ice bath and hopped straight into a hot shower, rinsing the sweat out of my hair and enjoying the warmth.

Julie the physio was oiling up my back when Steve walked in. I was naked except for the towel over my arse, but it didn’t really matter because Steve had been my coach for six years now; he’d seen it all, and it really didn’t interest him.

“So, Norieva,” he began. I grunted – not much else I could do when I was face down on a massage table.

“Her volley is her biggest weakness, so you need to focus on your short return. She’ll be getting you moving around a lot. How’s your ankle?”

“It’s fine,” I mumbled into the vinyl as Julie’s fingers moved lightly over my right ankle, the one that I had rolled in the first of my cursed quarter-finals, to check for any swelling.

“Mel, I’m so proud of you; that was a convincing win. You keep up that sort of form and you’ll have no problems with Norieva.”

“Thanks Steve.”

I relaxed and let Julie work her magic on me, riding the high ofmy win. I wasn’t about to let myself start worrying about the next match. Yet.

I wasn’t cursed. Now that I’d won I felt very blasé about the existence of the curse in the first place.

It had just been a drought, a drought that was broken now. I wondered when I’d get time to work on breaking my other drought.

CHAPTER TWO

Snuffleupagus Pubes

Iscoffed down another mouthful of salmon pasta, stretched out on a comfortable sofa in front of the big screen TV in the players’ retreat. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have this little bit of downtime. The press conference had been shorter than I had anticipated.

Clayton Banks, another Aussie playing his quarter, aced Ric Fontaine and I gurgle-cheered through a mouthful of carbs.

“Well, hey there gorgeous!” a warm American accented voice said behind me. I recognised it immediately. Holy shit! I bolted upright, swallowing my mouthful without chewing it properly.

“Oh, don’t get up, Mel. You just played a hard match. Congratulations by the way.” I turned my head, relaxing my stiff posture with some effort. He rested his elbows on the back of the lounge, leaning closer flirtatiously.

“Hi Pete,” I replied breathlessly. Oh shit, was that a piece of salmon caught between my front teeth? I sucked at it with my tongue, trying to look inconspicuous. “When’s your quarter?”

“Tomorrow night. I wish Donatello Herrera was in worse form. It’s gonna be close, that’s for sure!”

I rolled my eyes. Pete Levine was the number one men’s singles player. He was the odds on favourite to take out the Australian Open. He was also really bad at feigning modesty.

“Come on Pete, you know you’re going to smash him!” I said. Pete laughed, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. He turned all the power of his deep brown eyes on me, ruffling one big hand through his dark curls. I had to wipe my mouth – was I drooling? I’d always thought Pete was hot, but we hadn’t really had much to do with each other in the two years I’d been playing on the pro circuit.

“So, I guess it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. My mouth popped open. How could he possibly know that? I mean, I’d been wondering if hymens could grow back, but I was hardly advertising the fact. I shifted uncomfortably, tucking one leg under myself.

Pete chuckled. “I mean, it’s been a while since you’ve won a quarter-final.” He didn’t really need an answer for that, but I shrugged.

“Hey, everyone goes through a dry spell now and then.” I was flattered that he paid enough attention to my career to even know that.

He put his hands on my shoulders, his fingers caressing the sides of my neck. Reminding me again about myotherdry spell. Well, I certainly wasn’t feeling too dry now, not with his big warm hands on me, and his breath in my ear as he leaned down to whisper.

“You’re very tense, Mel,” he said, his hands still moving against my neck. Iwastense; every inch of me was zinging with sexual energy. I think Pete could sense it.

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