Orla
The week that followed felt like a reset for Tyler and I. We were steadier, more at ease, and somehow stronger for what we’d survived. Then, New York hit fast, loud, and impossible to ignore.
It was all high stakes and drama. Tyler was playing like his life depended on it in that fast, ruthless way that had become his trademark. He’d bulldozed his way through the rounds and landed himself a spot in the final against the reigning champion. None other than Mr. Jordan Taylor.
A few days after our reunion, Tyler finally admitted his leg had been fine for weeks.
He just wanted an excuse to keep me close.
Turns out, he didn’t have to look far, because in his heroic hour of battering down my hotel room door, he’d managed to tweak his shoulder.
Nothing serious, but enough to remind me that if he didn’t keep me in work with tennis related injuries, he’d find other creative ways to do it.
The ATP nearly fined him for the door incident until I stepped in.
Tyler still doesn’t know I went straight to the sponsors and his agent, looked them dead in the eye, and told them ‘exactly’ what happened: I’d been sick, passed out, and Tyler had to break in to get to me.
His fine miraculously disappeared. It wasn’t my proudest lie, but protecting him felt instinctive.
Plus, there was no way I was letting anyone turn him proclaiming his love for me into another headline.
The afternoon before the final, my phone pinged with a message from Kate:
Kate:
Now that we’re on the same continent, fancy an early dinner tonight? Nothing late just an excuse to keep the boys from pacing all night.
Kate had arrived in New York with the baby ahead of Jordan’s matches, and it felt like I hadn’t seen her in forever. We hadn’t had much chance to properly catch up after everything that happened with Dad, but we still spoke most days. We always did.
We’d been friends for a couple of years, but over the last twelve months we’d become properly close. She was living mostly in London now with Jordan and the baby, slipping into this new life with a kind of grace I envied.
Kate was someone I needed in my life. She understood people. She always found the good in them, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Sometimes especially then.
We’d both been through our share of heartbreak, which meant she got it in a way not everyone did. Seeing her and Jordan made me believe in second chances, in fate. If she could find someone who adored her after everything, maybe I could too. Maybe I already had.
I left the details of dinner to her; Kate was a planner.
Tyler and I arrived in the back of a blacked-out town car, hoping to avoid the media.
My heart sank when we pulled up to the curb outside a restaurant in Soho and I spotted the swarm of cameras, flashing lights, and voices shouting his name.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was the night before one of the biggest finals in the tennis calendar and both finalists were hot property.
I glanced at Tyler, and his jaw was already clenched. He squeezed my hand as he leaned in to my ear. “Shit. Okay, baby. When we get out, you stay close and we head straight in. No stopping.”
I nodded, my heart already in my throat. I smoothed my hand over my black trousers and took a steadying breath.
The car door opened and the noise hit me first: sharp, overlapping voices, the rapid crack of camera shutters.
Tyler stepped out ahead of me, his hand firm at my lower back, shielding me from the worst of it.
Flashes burst in my peripheral vision, blinding spots of white against the inky night.
I kept my eyes on the glow of the restaurant sign ahead, letting him guide me through the crush.
Someone shouted his name, someone else mine and the questions blurred together into a wall of sound.
By the time we slipped through the heavy glass doors, my shoulders sagged in relief, the warm sound of clinking cutlery and low conversation swallowing the chaos outside.
Kate spotted us first, practically bouncing out of her seat, her whole face lighting up.
She had that new-mum-on-a-night-out energy.
Equal parts excitement and relief. To be fair, she’d been doing a lot of it solo lately, though from what I’d seen, Jordan was as hands-on as the job let him be and he clearly adored them both.
Tyler’s hand found the small of my back as we walked toward them, like he didn’t even notice he was doing it.
Jordan rose to greet us, pulling Tyler into one of those grinning, back-slapping bro hugs before leaning in to give me a polite kiss on the cheek.
I couldn’t help laughing when Tyler bent to hug Kate.
I’d forgotten how tiny she was, and he practically had to fold himself in half to reach her.
His arm brushed mine when he straightened, his fingers skimming my wrist as though he were making sure I was still right there.
It was hard to believe that in forty-eight hours, they’d be trying to ruin each other on center court.
Kate held onto me for an extra beat when it was my turn. Her perfume was familiar and comforting—a small piece of home in the middle of the New York chaos. She looked stunning in a way that felt entirely effortless, dressed in wide-legged trousers and a satin halter top.
She always did make it look easy.
“God, it’s so good to see you in person,” she whispered, grinning as she pulled back.
“You too. You look amazing,” I said, squeezing her hands.
“That’s because I’ve had more than four hours of sleep for the first time in months.” She winked, then gave my arm a tug toward the table. “Come on. Before the boys start talking shop.”
We slipped into our seats, a small familiar bubble forming around us despite the bustle of the restaurant. Tyler dropped into the seat beside me, his thigh brushing mine under the table. The place was very Kate; elegant without trying and warm without fuss.
“So, how’s little Noah? Those pictures you sent me were adorable. He’s grown so much,” I asked, expecting Kate to answer.
“Ah, he’s a little legend,” Jordan jumped in, his whole face lighting up. “Keeps us busy, but we love him to bits.” He pulled out his phone, turning the screen toward us. A photo filled it, four-month-old Noah nestled in Kate’s arms, a perfect clone of his dad.
“He’s bloody gorgeous,” I said, smiling before catching the way Tyler was watching Jordan. He probably didn’t even realise his hand had found my knee under the table, his grip tightening while that quiet grin curved his mouth. He wanted this. He wanted all of it.
I could feel myself biting my lip, a flutter of excitement in my stomach as I tilted the screen of Jordan’s phone toward Tyler.
“Man, he is cute.” Tyler responded with a genuine warmth and a crooked grin.
“Please tell me you guys got caught in that shit show outside?” I cut in, handing Jordan his phone back.
Kate’s eyes lit up in a way that immediately made me suspicious. “Well…maybe that wasn’t entirely an accident.”
Jordan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Here we go.”
She leaned in, conspiratorial. “Look, you two have been through enough with the press. And trust me, I’ve had more than my fair share of their nonsense.
They twist everything, and they love painting you, Tyler, as some lone wolf troublemaker.
So I thought, what if they see you in the real world?
With Orla. With friends. And with your so-called ‘rival’ sitting right across the table without a hint of drama. ”
Tyler looked at her hesitantly but she continued. “We leave together, they get their pictures, but the story they have to tell is completely different.”
His brows went up, that slow, dangerous grin curling. “That’s actually…genius.” His fingers drummed lightly against my knee like he was impressed on more than one level. “That woman’s dangerously clever,” he added, shaking his head.
Jordan smirked, reaching for his water. “Yup. Try sharing a bed with her.”
Kate shoved him. “Not my first rodeo, love. If I’ve learnt anything over the last year it’s that you’ll never beat them. So, you just have to get ahead of them. Trust me, it comes from years of trying to get creative with traumatised kids to let you in.”
Tyler just stared at Kate, jaw tightening, something unreadable crossing his face.
It was there and gone in a second but I’d seen it. That flicker of recognition that comes from an old scar you don’t talk about and I couldn’t help but picture Tyler as that broken teenager I imagined he’d been.
Tyler leaned back in his chair, arm settling casually along the back of mine, and started grinning. “Alright, Taylor, enjoy tonight, buddy. Tomorrow, I’m coming for that trophy.”
Jordan gave him a slow, assessing once-over. “Big talk for a bloke who needed his girlfriend to get him out of a fine last week.”
Kate’s head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “You what?”
I waved her off, feeling my cheeks heat. “Long story. Heroic rescue. Broken door.”
“Self-inflicted injury,” Jordan added helpfully.
Tyler pointed his fork at him. “Says the guy who couldn’t make it through a semifinal last year without his woman giving him a pep talk.”
Jordan just smirked. “Yeah, difference is, my pep talks work. And tomorrow, I’ll still be the one lifting the silverware.”
Tyler shook his head, laughing under his breath. “We’ll see about that, Aussie. Don’t forget, California sunshine makes us harder to crack.”
Jordan leaned in, voice low but teasing. “Mate, I grew up playing in forty-degree heat. You’re not cracking me. You’re barely denting me.”
Kate rolled her eyes, grabbing a piece of bread. “Boys, if you’re done measuring your…backhands, some of us would like to enjoy dinner without a testosterone fog.”
I snorted into my wine, catching the twitch of a smile on Tyler’s face. The easy banter between them felt… different. No walls, no edge of defensiveness. Just him, leaning in close, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ends of my hair while he listened.
“So, Orla,” Kate said, eyes glinting, “can I tempt you up to the stands with me tomorrow? Wear a frock for once?”
“Sorry, babe, I’m all polo shirts and kinetic tape for this one,” I said, catching the boyish grin spreading across Tyler’s face.
“Sort it out, Reed,” she quipped.
He tipped his chair back a little, smirking.
“Please. You already hijack her with your endless group chat texts and those weird memes. I’m just over here tryna get some quality time with my girl.
” His hand squeezed my shoulder tighter and gave me a look that almost melted my panties right then and there.
Kate laughed and shrugged. “Fair enough.”
By the end of the night, I felt ten times lighter.
I couldn’t help but smile inwardly watching Tyler with such ease and warmth with our friends.
I shook my head, smiling into my drink, but something about the moment caught me.
Tyler wasn’t fronting or keeping his guard up like he usually did around new people.
He was leaning in, arm brushing mine, his posture completely relaxed, letting himself belong.
And these were good people. Steady, loyal, the kind you could depend on.
Watching him slot into their orbit made my chest ache in the best way.
Kate drained the last of her wine and set the glass down with a decisive little clink.
“Right, lads,” she said, eyes dancing. “We need to get back to our boy. Let’s get out of here and give these idiots a photo they aren’t expecting.”
By the time we stepped out into the warm, chaotic night, the flashes started again only this time, Tyler’s arm was draped over my shoulder, Jordan and Kate walking close beside us. Four across, laughing, looking for all the world like old friends.
The crowd shouted names, but I barely heard them. The noise, the light, it all blurred into nothing beneath the sound of Tyler’s masculine laugh against my ear. His hand tightened on my bare shoulder, securing me in the middle of the madness.
I remembered the girl who’d panicked over headlines, who’d believed a photograph could undo everything. But tonight, I wasn’t hiding behind him. I was right there beside him completely in love, certain about life for once, and entirely his equal.
Tyler glanced down at me, his grin crooked and proud, and I swear the world tilted a little.
Print that, you fuckers.