Game on, Love (Pitch and Pits #1)

30

Raina

THE LAST COUPLE DAYS were the definition of walking on a thin line. Vedant’s move had triggered the domino effect in the silly season, and even if it was only two more drivers that had fallen so far, everyone was silently pacing as they waited for the rest of the pieces to fall.

That meant I had been stuck to my laptop, trying to balance that very thin and stretched-out line which was between productive and overwhelmed. Usually, when I had days like these, I would either bake or on days like today, when I was a week away from getting my period, and the sight of something sweet made me gag, I would clean. Only I didn’t have anything to clean.

I mean, I would’ve been surprised if the three of them actually lived in the house full time and it was still this clean, but considering Vedant was still in the US for the race on Sunday, not that even during his off time, he spent much time in the house, only really staying for one night; Rihaan was still around, though he wasn’t avoiding me that much anymore. After I gave him Majas, it was like both of us had waved the white flag, and now it was instead awkward acknowledgements before walking past each other. Truthfully, that has made me more hopeful at the fact that we would one day just wake up and be ready to hash it out, but my dead old friend, the voice in my head, liked to remind me that instead of it being happy to let’s sit down and talk it out, it will be when the bubble finally pops.

I wasn’t sure if the thing to push him over would be when he found out I was going on a date with his best friend, the clean freak of the house, tonight or when I finally got my hands on the journals and realised the true reason why Vedant and Dev haven’t even questioned me once about what I told Ma, and then actually tell Vedant what me being there actually meant.

Speaking of the date, Oliver had walked into my room this afternoon and said, “Tonight. Be ready by 6 PM.”

No explanations and no hints. Gave me a wink and left.

I hadn’t even realised I’d agreed to it until he walked out of my room. But I was in the middle of an article and didn’t bother going back to him. As I got ready to log off, I realised that I had been sitting in a nearly dark room—the only light was the last hints of the sun that had set twenty minutes ago and the glare from my laptop.

Checking my emails one last time to make sure there wasn’t anything there that required immediate attention, I closed it shut before getting up. As I did a couple of stretches, I made a mental note to make better judgement calls when it came to the place I was working from. It was either between that, going to the office more often or looking for a new flat.

I paused in my step.

I hadn’t even looked at any flats in at least a month, and now the only reason I would need to do it would be because either my brothers kicked me out or this thing will Oliver that I had barely started to create ended badly.

Wow. So the surety of my accommodation was entirely out of my hands. Good thing Nanu left me enough money to get a—.

“Shut. Up.” I muttered to myself before taking a deep breath and walking out of my room to find Oliver.

Opening up my phone, I pulled up my tracker app. I could’ve called out his name or even started looking for him, but I was already running low on energy, and my best guesses were his room upstairs, or the gaming room downstairs—the two furthest spots from each other, and the idea to go up and down was as appealing to me as telling Rihaan about our date. Thankfully, for once, I wasn’t annoyed at Milo for sticking by his side when he wasn’t getting attention from me because one blip told me they both were upstairs in his room, so that’s where I went.

Knocking on the half-open door, I pushed it back to find both of them on the sofa he had in his room, with a laptop in front of him.

Oliver looked up as I stepped inside, his expression brightening up instantly.

“Hey, Gorgeous.” He said, shutting his laptop close as I placed myself on the edge of his bed. “You… look exhausted.”

“I feel it,” I grumbled. I debated falling back on his bed for a second before giving in. I have no idea how he found my bed comfortable when his actually felt softer than a cloud. “What are we doing later?”

“It’s a surprise.” He climbed in next to me, leaning on his arm, but his eyes were lit with amusement as they met mine.

“I hate surprises.”

“And that doesn’t surprise me,” He grinned.

I sighed. “I need to know the vibe beforehand. I already feel wiped—”

“Dress casually but layer up instead of just a thick jumper as the place tends to run on the warmer side. It won’t be super loud or bright, and it’s nothing competitive.” He ran a hand through my hair, and I relaxed. “You hungry?”

“Not really,” I murmured, closing my eyes. I’d gone downstairs and made us some sandwiches for lunch, but it was only a couple of hours ago. “Don’t do that if you don’t want me to fall asleep.”

He chuckled, but his hands stilled.

Opening my eyes, I looked at him. “How are you feeling about your match?”

He lifted a shoulder.

“It says it might rain on Friday,” I pointed out, and he smiled as though the idea of me looking into the weather for him pleased him.

“It’s at the Oval, which has a retractable roof, so they are going to prep for it tomorrow just to be on the safer side.”

I nodded, picking up on the tone he didn’t want to talk about it but didn’t want to dismiss me either. “You really won’t tell me where we’re going?”

“That’s how surprises work, love.” He chuckled.

“A hint?”

“You’ve never done it before, but we’ll probably do it again.”

I sat up on my arms, a frown on my face. “How would you know if I haven’t done it before or not?”

He grinned, leaning closer. “You’ll just have to see.”

I moved my head back, shaking my head. “No hints, no kisses.”

He leaned back, his grin still in place. “I did give you a hint.”

“That wasn’t a proper hint,” I tugged on my lower lip before tilting my head. “That’s like expecting me to guess how much you won by from just the first over.”

His eyes flickered with something darker, and I knew I hit the target. “That is evil.”

“What is?” I feigned innocence.

Flicking his tongue out, he licked the corner of his lips before pressing them together, almost like he had to try a little harder to keep his sanity in check.

I bit my lip, watching him in fascination. It was like suddenly all bets were off, and it felt addictive.

“I think me being evil would be me telling you,” I whispered, and his eyes went to my lips before flicking back to my eyes. “That when you scored 122 runs off 97 balls against South Africa on your ODI debut was my favourite match. Or maybe it was when you made England’s record last year for the fastest T20I fifty against New Zealand.”

He let out a strained breath before rubbing his lips. This time, when he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. “Go get dressed, so we can leave, and I can kiss the fuck out of you.”

Warmth ran through me at his words as I licked my lips.

“Go. Before I change my mind and lock you in here forever.”

I laughed as he fell back on the bed.

WALKING IN THE DIMLY lit studio, we were welcomed with the faint scent of clay and soft chatter as the familiar noise of Camden Town faded out and the door shut behind us.

Low wooden tables were set up evenly; each one set up with a pottery wheel—two chairs across each other, a bucket of water and some tools that could probably be useful if you had any clue how to use them, which I absolutely did not. But as I noticed the staff members dividing the sections and creating mini booths, I couldn’t help but be curious as to what we were doing.

Tugging on Oliver’s hand that was holding mine, I whispered. “What exactly are we doing?”

“Relaxing. Having Fun. Shutting our brains off for a bit,” He lowered his head as he replied. “And making pottery.”

“I think we should add attempting in front of it?”

“Nope, we’ll make some.”

I sighed knowingly. “Let me guess, you know how to make pottery.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding.”

“What a surprise.”

He chuckled, pulling me into one of the secluded booths, and as one of the staff members waved at him, I realised it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Do you come here often?” I asked, tugging off my coat and jumper. I’d listen to his advice and layered up, leaving me in just a thin top as he handed me an apron.

“I used to,” He replied, tugging on his own apron over his head. “One of my friends from university and her partner owns this place. I took one of their beginner classes last year when they opened. When I was looking at something for us to do, this felt like the perfect mix of something new, and intimate, but will also help you relax after the week you’ve had, considering you have to work over the weekend too.”

My heart warmed at his words, as I caught the name on one of the display screens as it read ‘Together on the Wheel’ .

Adjusting my apron, I asked. “I like it. But how exactly will this work?”

“We’ll work on it together, but they also have different games they like to play as we build it. It’s supposed to help you get to know each other better without having the pressure of asking questions, and well, building pottery together is just a fun way to see how you work with the other person,” He grinned. “We don’t have to take part in the games, as in this booth, we can shut the door, and it can be just us as we try to be messy. Up to you.”

He’d rolled his sleeves up, the veins in his arm popping as he hunched over the wheel, and I sighed softly before matching his grin. “We can play. I do love games.”

Oliver shook his head as he rolled a ball of clay between his palms, and the instructor spoke into a small microphone. “Alright, everyone. Let’s begin with a round of rapid-fire favourites. Remember, you answer the questions before the buzzer goes off—10 seconds per question which should give you both to answer without overthinking and overlapping!”

And just like that, the questions began.

Favourite colour?

O: Blue

R: Blue

Favourite Dessert?

R: Ariyanka’s Chocolate Pastries

O: Your brownies

Favourite Movie?

O: The Dark Knight Returns

R: Now You See Me

Favourite Place to Travel?

R: Singapore

O: Australia

Favourite Ice Cream Flavour?

O: Pistachio

R: Coffee

Favourite Sport?

O: Cricket

R: Formula One

“Still?” Oliver questioned just as the buzzer went off and Frankie—our instructor, called the time.

“Okay, now it’s time to get messy,” Her voice buzzed through the speakers.

“You want me to lie and say it’s cricket?” I asked as he turned on the wheel between us.

“Should I hold on to any hope that it might change one day?”

“Never say never,” I shrugged, watching and following his movements as he dipped his fingers in the bowl of water.

“Place your hands first so I can guide you,” He said softly. “Now, just remember it doesn’t matter if it falls or breaks. It’s about the moment right now, and the actual result will come later, okay?”

I nodded, letting his hands cover mine as he guided them together over the clay in perfectly practised circles. I gulped, suddenly realising how intimate it felt.

As our hands settled into the flow with each other, sliding over the wet surface. There was an easy rhythm between us. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself enjoy the feeling of being there with him, creating something physical and mental with him. I didn’t feel the need to rush through it or have the itch for it to be perfect, and as our fingers glided over the clumsy edge, I let him guide the way to shape it.

“You’re really good at this,” I said quietly, almost afraid of breaking the moment, but as his gaze softened and he gave me a genuine smile, I realised how connecting it was for both of us.

We spent the rest of the evening shaping our imperfectly perfect vase, answering more questions like a memory we wanted to relive, our first celebrity crush, a movie we wanted to play a role in, the kind of superpower we wanted to wake up with on a random Saturday and more, but as we walked back home, I couldn’t help but focus on his thoughtfulness. Out of a hundred different things that were happening tonight, I was sure he’d managed to find one that was entirely about just the two of us and yet still something new and fun.

LOCKING THE DOOR BEHIND us, Oliver leaned against it, his head hitting the door as he watched me. The heat in his eyes was evident, and it was nothing like the one I saw at the studio. After one gave me a real but controlled kiss, but as his eyes tracked my moments, I was unable to find that hint of control.

“I’ve been waiting all night to do this,” He muttered, his voice low and rough, as he cupped the back of my neck and pulled me in.

It was unhurried, but it was immediate—like something deeper in us had been waiting for this. It was soft and familiar, but this time, I could taste the need, too. His lips moved against mine in hunger, and instinctively, my hands ran through his hair, pulling him closer, and it was all he needed from me. The kiss depended, both of us trying to savour the moment before his hands were on my waist, and he was lifting me in the air and carrying me up the stairs.