Page 136 of Game Point
I chuckled, sliding my gin towards him, taking the whisky.
‘We can swap,’ I said.Like I’d let this go to waste.
He nodded, his face still red. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. This was the man I wanted to spend my life with. Supportive, loving Oliver. My best friend, and the person who wouldalwayshave my back.
Oliver pulled himself together enough to take a drink of the gin and tonic, relief clear across his face as he took a long sip. ‘That’s much better.’
I tilted the whisky in the glass. ‘I don’t think it’s so bad.’
A goofy look appeared across his face. I could almost see the cartoon love hearts in his eyes.
‘You’ve always been the stronger of the two of us.’
My eyebrows pushed up. ‘Really? That’s what you thought with all my crying and breaking down on court?’
‘Always, Dylan. Through everything,’ he said. ‘Your strength is what I fell in love with first. Your ten-acity. Every time you get knocked down, you get back up again. Sometimes it takes you a few weeks, sometimes you have to rest first. But strength isn’t just jumping back into battle. It’s knowing when to rest, it’s letting yourself cry and feel your emotions and knowing that you’ll come back from it.’
My hand slid across the table, meeting his and wrapping around his fingers. Squeezing tightly, I kept my eyes trained on him. For so long, I’d felt hopeless and alone. So homesick and untethered. I thought back to that night, in New York, the party where we’d met, the street I’d chased him down.
And now, with Oliver by my side, I knew I’d never feel alone again, that homesickness cured. Because whereverI was with him was home, the warmth of his arms, the comfort of his smile, the press of his kiss.
‘I love you,’ I said, the words never feeling so easy.
His hand squeezed mine. ‘I love you too, brat.’
Home was where my heart was; and my heart was with Oliver.
Epilogue
Oliver
Anti Hero – Taylor Swift
‘Please welcome to the dancefloor for their first dance, the bride and groom!’
The crowd around us burst into celebration as our friends appeared at the doorway of the grand ballroom, the room filled with delighted guests. Dylan, to my left, wolf whistled as Scottie passed us, her blue eyes narrowing playfully over at us. The bride was dressed in what I was sure was something vintage and couture, hand in hand with Nico who looked adoringly at his new wife, his eyes never leaving her.
I suspected they never would again.
A song started playing, a soft piano ballad as the happy couple swept onto the ballroom floor, holding each other close as we all watched them take their first dance.
‘Cute, isn’t it?’ I nudged Dylan slightly, catching the crinkle of a smile on her lips.
The curve flattened, her arms crossing against the red silk bridesmaid dress she wore. ‘A little cheesy if you ask me.’
‘What’s a wedding without a little cheese?’ I smirked, this time nudging my hip into her side, enjoying every moment of contact I could get. We’d both spent thenight apart, her being a bridesmaid for Scottie, and me a groomsman for Nico. I was still making up for lost time.
‘Bearable,’ she answered, sounding a little grumpy, but she’d spent half the day with a smile spread across those perfect lips, running around Scottie and making sure her dress was always perfect, her glass always full. How they’d grown together as friends always made me laugh, never being able to place the old Dylan Nico had once warned me about.
‘You can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed today,’ I argued.
She hummed to herself, looking back at Scottie and Nico. ‘It’s been …’
‘Romantic?’ I suggested.
‘Expensive.’
I laughed to myself, shaking my head at her answer, partially thankful we had moved to the back of the crowd where we couldn’t offend anyone. Dylan’s gaze searched the vast luxurious ballroom, every inch of it decorated beautifully.
