30 Nico
30
Eat Your Young – Hozier
‘All I’m saying is, at least try to behave yourself,’ Jon gruffed, folding his paper back up as he straightened in the corner armchair. I eyed his reflection in the mirror as I attempted to tie my bow tie. Again. It was all for nothing when I caught a glimpse of Scottie’s face and mine front and centre on the newspaper.
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
He raised a single eyebrow. ‘Press will be at the gala,’ he reminded me. ‘The last thing we need is more distractions before the tournament.’
My fingers twisted the soft material, pulling it through the knot the way I was sure my father taught me, before it came out all wrong. I yanked at one side, almost tempted to give up and go with a tie. That had been the plan before Jon showed up five minutes ago, bow tie in hand, as he reminded us that the event was black tie.
‘Again, no idea what you could be referring to.’
And for once, it wasn’t a lie.
It had been a busy few days since the press conference, too busy for any drama with the day taken up with almost constant practice as we tried to attune to the local conditions. We’d each played a few matches in our own singles category and some as doubles partners. So far, they’d all gone well, both of us walking away victorious.
I turned my attention from the bowtie, taking a moment to focus on cufflinks and watches and everything else this stupid event demanded. It was another thing ELITE had signed us up for, a charity event with a ticket price of $15k each that attracted everyone who was anyone before the stress and competition of Wimbledon began.
I’d always managed to avoid it, spending the evening in practice. But if ELITE said jump, we said how high, apparently.
‘So, there isn’t anything going on between you and Scottie?’
My back stiffened at the mention of her name, but somehow, I managed to keep my attention on my fingers, twisting to get the cufflinks in position.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ I confirmed. I certainly wasn’t thinking about what happened in the kitchen. Or how well she had played a match yesterday, with a short white pleated skirt that held my attention almost the whole time. Or seeing her at breakfast this morning, her hair tied back, my hat on her head. She wore it like it had always belonged to her … just like I did.
‘That’s not what it looks like.’ He laid the newspaper flat on the table beside me, the headline staring back up at me.
‘Doubles Delight: Are Nico and Scottie Scoring on and off the Court?’
My blood ran cold as I scanned the photo. It was from a few days before, during a match that had been closed to the public, not that it mattered to anyone.
We had just won, Scottie hitting a dropshot over the net to secure the final set. I’d immediately run to her, dropping my racket as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her feet off the ground and holding her close. I breathed her in, her unmistakable shampoo mixing with the sunshine happiness that had filled me up.
Winning had always made me happy, no matter how small the stakes. The grind was so hard that anything was worth even a small celebration. But winning with her by my side felt like taking the gold at the Olympics over and over again.
And that was what they had captured, that moment of her in my arms. Two teammates congratulating each other. In reality, I’d been losing my grip and was releasing Scottie to the ground. The camera angle had caught one of my hands as it was hovering over her ass. God, I wish that was the case … If I had actually touched it, I’d still be trying to work the memory away, with either a merciless gym session or with my fist.
But, of course, that was the shot they had managed to capture.
‘Isn’t that what ELITE wants it to look like?’ I moved on, tearing myself away from the photo.
Jon shrugged. ‘For the cameras, but I don’t want this kind of distraction during the tournament.’
‘She’s my teammate. Didn’t you want us to get along?’ Annoyance had begun to creep in at the edges. I’d always hated this plan, never wanted to play this up for the tabloids or ELITE for that matter. But I’d gone along with it, and now they were exploiting us for every move, every gesture. And if they really knew what was going on, how I felt about her, they’d use that too.
‘So, there is something.’
Jon’s face was a twisted mix of delight and suspicion. The look threw me just enough off balance that the white lie almost choked me, and the knowing curve of his lips grew. I stumbled to respond, but found myself cut off by a knock at the door.
‘There’s nothing.’ As my back was turned to him, a look of panic crossed my face, a slackened jaw exhausted from the tightness that had appeared the moment he laid the newspaper out. How much longer could I keep pretending?
He shouted again as I headed toward the door, ‘You know I work for you and Scottie, not ELITE. I’d keep your secret.’
I’d ignored him, and instead, with a deep inhale, tried to pull myself together, only to be winded by the sight of Scottie on the other side of the door. Her blonde hair was swept up off her bare shoulders, collarbones exposed as the dress plunged down to her breasts, revealing just enough to drive me to the edge of insanity before the gold sparkling material began. My hand ached to reach out, memorize the curves of her body.
She pursed her lips together, a hand on her hip. ‘They’ve waxed every single part of me. I’m pretty sure I now have the sleek, aerodynamic skin of a baby seal.’
My brain did not know how to process that new information, still struggling to catch up with the sight of her before me. She looked up at me strangely, her blue eyes darkened by eyeshadow, before I got the message and conjured up enough brain power to step aside. Any self-awareness I had reclaimed instantly evaporated as she stepped past me, a leg stepping out of the high slit, revealing yet more perfect, soft, bare skin, before meeting the thin black straps of her tall heels.
This dress had to be designed by Satan himself, every inch against Scottie’s soft skin, begging me to sin.
‘Baby seals are fluffy, Scottie,’ Jon had corrected as I closed the door, desperately trying to fight the urge to kick him out and find out how easy it would be to remove that dress from her body. See what she was wearing underneath.
‘All I know is I’m counting the hours until I’m free of this dress.’
If Jon would leave it could be seconds …
I remained at a safe distance, leaning on the doorway, my eyes taking in every inch of her. The dress sparkled gold against her skin, which had also been given a golden shimmer, lighting her as she moved around the room. The straps sat delicately off her shoulders as if they had fallen off, but it was just another thing to add to the list of reasons that dress would kill me.
‘What do you think?’ She spun around the centre of the room to face me.
‘You look …’ I trailed off, unable to think of a single word that encapsulated how she looked. Was there even a word that would give her beauty the justice it required? She was starlight personified, gorgeous, and golden, and beautiful. Beyond beautiful.
‘Like an Oscar trophy. I know,’ she huffed, turning back to look at Jon, who had made himself comfy on my bed. ‘That beauty team you hired was torturous.’
‘What do you ladies say? Beauty is pain?’ Jon pushed himself up from the bed. ‘I need to go grab something from my room, then I’ll get the car round the front so we can head over.’ We both nodded in his direction.
Jon looked at me, raising his head slightly, a finger indicating to his neck. ‘Nico, your bow tie.’
I recalled my abandoned task, my hands pulling at the two ends of the material. Jon left the room as I headed over to the mirror, taking up my old position. But this time, it was Scottie who offered a tempting distraction from the task at hand. After a moment, my memory still uncooperative, I sighed loudly, pulling the bow tie entirely off my neck, and turned around, determined to find the regular tie I had been planning on wearing, only to find Scottie behind me.
‘Here, let me.’ She laid a hand out between us, but I only shook my head.
‘I can do it.’
Her lips, which had been painted a dark seductive red, turned up into a smirk. ‘Do it wrong, more like. Come on, one of us should look decent for this thing.’
I narrowed my eyes at her for a moment, before relenting, and handing her the tie. She looped it around my neck, taking a step closer to me as she did. My body almost went into fight-or-flight mode at the closeness, the gravity of the attraction to her too overwhelming.
‘You shouldn’t do that, you know?’ I said, trying to distract myself, desperate to look anywhere but her face, with her attention fixed on her fingers at my throat, her lip pulled in between her teeth.
‘What? Tie men’s bow ties? Does it emasculate you?’
‘You shouldn’t pretend like you aren’t going to be the most beautiful person in the room tonight,’ I continued as her hands released, her work finished. I kept my eyes on her. ‘I think you’ve been sent here to torture me because Jon just warned me not to make a scene, but I already can’t keep my eyes off you. No one else will be able to either, and I just want to keep you all to myself.’
She tilted her head, not stepping away, not moving a muscle. ‘Weren’t you taught to share your toys, Nico?’
I locked my jaw, hating how she thought about herself. My hand rose to her, setting under her chin to keep her eyes on me, my touch soft but demanding. ‘You’re no toy, Scottie. You’re a goddess in that dress. I don’t know how I am supposed to keep my hands to myself all evening.’
There were so many people at this event, and every single one had a camera in their pocket, waiting to capture one moment of weakness from me, from us. And she was dressed like temptation incarnate.
‘Tell me not to, Scottie, and I’ll be good.’ My voice grew husky, the need to close the gap and touch her growing more intense.
‘Nico, I—’
A knock on the door cut off her reply.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us looked away.
She just had to say no. Tell me she didn’t want me to touch her and tonight … tonight would go more smoothly if I just knew that was what she wanted. Then I could keep my hands to myself.
‘Well?’ I challenged, my eyes scanning every inch of her face.
In one movement, she’d stepped forward, her hands going to the back of my neck, and her lips met mine. For one moment it was soft, the next I’m lost in her, my hands skimming down her curves, hungrily pulling her body to mine. I’d found the slit in her dress, my hand sliding up her bare thigh so I could have her even closer.
One second we stood apart, the next, we were tangled up in each other like we had been starved of touch. She pulled at my hair as my hand explored every curve, desperate to commit her body to memory after the sudden, cruel separation last time.
Her lips pressed against mine, teeth grazing as we lost ourselves, lost our minds, until another knock pulled us apart, bringing us crashing back down to earth. She looked from the door and grinned up at me, blue eyes utterly wild.
‘Nobody can see,’ she instructed, still trying to catch her breath.
I nodded, barely understanding her meaning, my brain buzzing with lust. All I could think about was the feel of her lips, my hand wrapped around her thigh, how much I never wanted to leave this bedroom.
Not as long as she was inside, too.
She leaned past me for a moment, looking in the mirror as she patted her hair back into place and fixed her make-up, before her hand slid into mine and she practically dragged me across the room toward the door. She paused as we reached it, her eyes examining me.
Her hands went to my neck, fixing my bow tie, pulling my shirt straight before her fingers met my lips, and rubbed slightly at the edges.
‘Lipstick.’ She smiled, with an all-knowing grin.
‘We could tell Jon it’s the new fashion,’ I managed, wishing I could replace the stain, make her press her perfect lips to every inch of my skin, and leave the imprint of her lipstick for everyone to see. Let her claim me.
She crooked an eyebrow up, eyes lighting up at the devilish idea, before wordlessly she pulled the door open, and we stepped out, not at all expecting the storm we were walking straight into.