CHAPTER 26
George
Making Leo come is my new favourite thing to do.
Knowing she was sitting next to me, bare, still wet, I couldn’t resist sliding my hands up her silky dress and playing with her pussy until she was breathless, biting down on her lip to avoid crying out.
Thank god for tinted windows.
I take her hand in the lift, tangling our fingers, and bring it up for a kiss. This has been fun, the most fun I’ve ever had at one of these events. Isn’t that what Hope wanted for me? To have fun? I’m not sure it’s quite what she had in mind, but at least I’m getting there.
We enter the suite, tension still sizzling between us, and Leo heads to the bathroom to freshen up. I open the mini bar to grab us some water, when my eye catches the vintage radio sitting on top.
On an impulse, I pull out my phone, choose a song and plug it in. When did I get so cheesy?
She walks in just as the song starts. The lyrics are full of tension and longing.
Her eyes widen. ‘Chris Stapleton?’
‘Well, you’re reading a book about cowboys and I heard country music coming from your room yesterday. I put some on in the gym this morning and I like this one.’ I’m rambling now. I never ramble. ‘I thought since we’re all dressed up, you might like to dance with me?’
This was a stupid idea.
She looks at me, eyes soft. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I smile.
‘George, this is one of my favourite songs.’
‘Well, come here then.’ I take her hand and twirl her around before pressing her close to me, placing my other hand on her waist. Her beautiful face rests just between my collar and jaw and I can’t help myself as I press a light kiss to the top of her head.
We sway together, enjoying the slow melody.
She tips her face to mine, eyes shining, and kisses me softly. The warmth I feel isn’t lust, it’s something else entirely, something new. I pull away slightly to take her in and can’t help the smile that beams across my face.
‘You have the most beautiful smile, George,’ she says quietly. ‘Thank you for tonight. It’s been perfect.’
My voice comes out rough, a rush of emotion suddenly hitting me and I gently tuck her head back to my chest. ‘You’re welcome.’
We continue moving together until the end of the song, unable to let go even when the music stops.
Until Leo’s stomach growls loudly, breaking the tension, and I laugh.
‘Hungry?’
‘We didn’t have supper! And yeah, didn’t exactly have time to sample the canapés at the party.’ She raises an eyebrow suggestively and I laugh again. ‘I’m starving, to be honest.’
‘Good. Me too.’ I grab the in-room iPad. ‘Room service?’
‘Those might just be the sexiest words you’ve said yet.’ She bites her lip and I laugh more.
This really is fun.
——
Twenty minutes later, we’ve ordered food and Leo has gone to change. I’m still in my shirt, but have unbuttoned the top and removed the bow tie. I’ve also swapped my trousers for comfy grey sweatpants. It’s quite a look.
I’m so comfortable, I don’t care.
I scroll through the film selection and one in particular catches my eye.
Leo pads into the room, walking past to grab a drink, and I immediately smile.
Her navy dress has been replaced with silk pyjamas, the loose pants clinging temptingly to her backside.
The shirt buttons are open low and I see a sliver of lacy bra as she bends to reach into the mini bar.
I can’t help myself and jump up, stepping closely behind her, cupping those perky cheeks. She giggles as I push my hips into her.
‘These are your comfortable pyjamas?’ I ask, amused.
‘Yes.’ She straightens, twisting round. ‘Incredibly so.’ She rises to her tiptoes to peck my lips, then looks around. ‘Where’s the food?’
I laugh and take her hand, dragging her back to the sofa. ‘So impatient . . .’
‘So hungry!’ She sees the screen and looks around at me. ‘Notting Hill?’
‘Told you. Julia Roberts is my girl.’
She laughs as I loop my hand around her waist, tucking her beside me and placing a quick kiss to her forehead. This is nice. I press play and we settle in, the film intro I’ve seen hundreds of times adding to the familiar comfort.
‘I always wanted to live in Notting Hill. Literally because of this film,’ she whispers, her fingers lightly tracing my forearm.
‘And did you?’
I want to know more about her, beyond the sexual connection we obviously have. It’s a strange feeling.
‘I rented for a bit and it was fun. But I’m much happier now. I don’t think I want to go back to living in London – and my little house, it’s become my sanctuary.’
‘In Buckinghamshire?’ Surely if she’s at the club a lot she must live nearby?
‘Yes, not far from Grange Home Farm actually.’ She looks embarrassed. ‘That’s your family estate, right?’
I murmur in response, embarrassed about the connotations it comes with. I know Leo isn’t the kind of girl to be impressed by it.
She tenses. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. Just when you mentioned being friends with Harry . . .’
‘No, no it’s fine.’ I stumble slightly, not used to being so candid with anyone but Jack.
But I really want to try with her. ‘I don’t have the most positive memories of that house, of that life really, and the pressures it came with.
It’s anything but a sanctuary, more like a finishing school at best, a prison at worst.’
Her hand on my arm flexes, holding me. It spurs me on.
‘It’s difficult for me to express myself,’ I carry on, looking straight ahead.
‘I’ve been raised to squash any kind of real emotion, encouraged to bury anything away that didn’t fit with what was expected of me.
And not only from my parents. It’s not been the healthiest for my mental state, maintaining that control. ’
She takes my hand now, threading her fingers through mine, squeezing lightly.
This is the part where she’ll run. Olivia did. I brace myself for her reaction, closing my eyes. ‘I started having panic attacks, just over a year ago.’
She rubs her thumb across my palm, reassuring me that she’s still here. She’s listening. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, George. That’s really tough.’
‘Yeah. It’s not ideal. Especially when you’re mid-match.’
‘Mid-match? Oh, George. When?’
‘Melbourne, last year. The expectation to do well was getting on top of me. I-I just wasn’t present.
I might as well have blacked out. Cedars found me in the locker room after.
I was a total fucking mess, but nobody knew.
I watched the tapes back. I looked the same.
Functioned the same. It scared the hell out of me.
The mask I had spent years cultivating was working .
. . nobody could tell that I was breaking inside. ’
I shake my head, physically trying to release the memory of that feeling. Only Jack realized that something was off, that I wasn’t OK.
‘I could tell,’ she says quietly. My gaze snaps to hers.
‘What?’ I say, sharper than I mean to. She pulls away slightly at the harshness in my tone, her hands dropping mine.
‘I watched the match and I knew you weren’t yourself.
’ Her eyes drop, unable to meet mine. ‘You asked me if I was a fan of yours yesterday – well I was. How could I not be?’ She looks uncomfortable.
‘I watched all your matches. I thought you were magnificent. The control you had, the command of the game, the court. You were intimidating, brilliant.’
She trails off.
‘But?’ I urge her on.
‘Melbourne was different. You were still controlled, still precise and your form was perfect.’ She looks back at me, her eyes tentative.
‘But I thought your power was missing, your spark that made you truly unbeatable. You were a dimmed version of yourself. I remember it so clearly. Obviously, I didn’t know what was wrong, nothing was said in the press about your mental health . . .’
‘Only that I was an arrogant, immature prick that couldn’t take a loss?’
‘Well yeah, but I didn’t think it was that. Well, I didn’t then anyway.’
‘But what? You do now?’
‘No! Well, yes I did, before I knew you like I do now.’ She exhales and rubs her hands together nervously, like she’s geeing herself up. ‘We’ve met before, George.’
I go rigid. I wasn’t expecting that. ‘What do you mean?’
She visibly swallows. Why is she so nervous? ‘I was at a party last year, the Lacoste one, just before Queen’s?’
I stop breathing. She was there?
‘I tried to come and introduce myself, to offer you a drink, and you were so rude, so cold. You wouldn’t even look at me before dismissing me.
I know they say never meet your heroes, but really.
I heard you say to Gordon to get you out of there, that you couldn’t be around “these people”.
Then Gordon basically called me a prostitute and made me spill champagne all down myself . . .’
‘What?!’
‘It’s fine. I mean, it’s not really. Cece delayed my promotion due to “misconduct” at a member event.
He’s an idiot though, and yes, I was pissed off, but really that’s not the issue.
’ She lowers her eyes. ‘I just felt so small. I was so embarrassed for putting myself out there for once and being rejected so publicly. By you, of all people. Someone I had followed and cheered on week in, week out. I cared so much about your success, was so happy for you when you won. Felt it when you lost.’ She sighs.
‘So mainly I was disappointed that what they said about you online seemed to be true.’
I feel awful. ‘Leo, it’s no excuse for the way I was acting, but please let me explain. I’d broken up with Olivia a few hours before, basically imploding my entire future.’
I run a hand through my hair, shocked to feel it shaking slightly.
‘My father was on my case immediately, her family, Gordon. She was so angry with me, but it was clear it wasn’t because she was losing me, more that her perfect life was in tatters.’
I take her hands, steadying us both. ‘Leo, I am so sorry. I don’t remember that party at all.
I was barely able to function with the anxiety, but Gordon told me I had to go.
I literally begged him to let me leave, but even he couldn’t tell the state I was in.
Or if he did, he didn’t know the extent. ’
I try to think back to that day, as painful as it is. ‘Cece tried to ask me about Olivia and I couldn’t take it any more.’ I think harder, but everything is a blur. There was the girl. The girl with the captivating green eyes . . .
‘Sounds like Cece.’ Leo rolls her eyes, before looking straight at me. ‘I am so sorry, George. I feel like a complete idiot. I was so angry at you afterwards, I’ve refused to watch you play since.’
I’m relieved to see no anger in her vivid green eyes, just concern.
‘I feel so stupid for just falling for the narrative about you. Not thinking to understand why you’re so closed off in public.
’ She looks at me earnestly. ‘I get it now. Everyone around you is so intrusive, wanting something from you all the time. No wonder you’re not happy.
And you’re not like that at all. I can see why Jack loves you.
He told me before coming here to ignore what everyone else says about you. ’
‘I guess at least now I know why you hated me so much,’ I half-joke.
She barks out a laugh, breaking the tension. ‘You hardly helped!’ She puts on a ridiculous deep voice. ‘“No thanks”!’
It makes me laugh. ‘I thought you were just another Cece.’ I shudder and she laughs again. I smile as I pull her towards me, tucking her back in and resting my chin on her head lightly.
She speaks quietly from below, ‘I’m sorry, George, for judging you so quickly.’
‘It’s me who should be sorry, Leo.’ I shake my head again. ‘Thank you for telling me, for giving me a chance.’
She tips her face up. ‘You can tell me anything, you know? I’ll be here for you. You don’t have to hide anything.’ Her small hand cups my cheek and she looks me in the eye. An image of fiery green eyes flashes through my mind. I jolt.
‘George?’
My voice is hoarse. ‘Leo. I remember you.’ Oh god. It was her. ‘I needed to get out of there, but I saw you, your eyes . . .’
Those same eyes widen, but she kisses me softly, reassuringly. ‘It’s OK, George. If you’re OK, we’re OK.’
I close my own and rest my forehead against hers. ‘I know it’s only been a few days, but I already feel more comfortable with you than I do with my own family. I just can’t believe how close I came to never getting to know you.’
She kisses me again, but it’s different. Instead of hunger and lust, there’s emotion and connection. I pour everything into the kiss and she doesn’t baulk, doesn’t shy away from the intensity, but welcomes it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more raw, more open, with anyone.
There’s a loud knock on the door and we both jump, panting.
‘Room service!’ a cheery voice calls out.
‘Great timing,’ I mutter as I release a long exhale, getting up to open the door.
They offer to set up our food, constructing that funny table they wheel in, but we politely refuse, choosing instead to return to our previous position. Club sandwiches, fries and a Diet Coke, not exactly in my meal plan, but I’ve ordered some extra chicken on the side.
Suddenly, I’m ravenous.
I thought talking about my anxiety would make me feel worse, but it’s the opposite. I’m lighter, more in control of myself, but in a different way. Leo didn’t tell me to not think about it, push it away. She just listened, took it in, sat with it, with me.
We demolish everything before I pull her closer, her head against my chest, and we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the rest of the film.
Hugh Grant is racing across London, desperate to reach Julia Roberts before she leaves for ever, when I hear Leo’s breathing slow below me. I leave her to sleep, pulling her tighter as a feeling of pure contentment washes over me. I sit with those feelings too, as I start to drift off.
My final thought before I close my eyes is of Hope; if this is the peace she’s been talking about, it’s pretty fucking good.