CHAPTER 51
Leo
‘How did you get these?’ I ask Jack, my eyes scanning the players’ entrance. Hopefully George is off somewhere else, prepping for the interview. I know he’s playing later today too. I might have to leave before then. It’s just too painful. ‘And where are the strawberries?’
He chuckles. ‘A good client of mine.’ He guides me through to the players’ lounge and I can’t help but gawk. I’ve been to Wimbledon before, but I’ve never been here. Everyone who’s anyone in the tennis world is milling around, unfazed, used to seeing the same faces on tour.
My eyebrows raise as the penny drops. I’m so stupid. ‘Good client? Since when have you coached a player at Wimbledon?’
‘Just come with me, Leo, please.’ He gestures me through to an outdoor terrace overlooking Centre Court and I stop with a jolt, looking down at the time as I see the big screen. It’s his face. His handsome, beautiful face.
It’s 2.59 p.m.
I look around trying to spot where they’re filming, but he must be in a different area to us.
The camera zooms in close and my heart physically aches.
He looks nervous, but his eyes are bright, engaged, warm, as he chats to the team while being prepped for the live interview.
As it pans out, I see his hands balled in his lap, a small smile playing on his lips.
He’s breathtaking. I can almost feel the energy buzzing under his skin.
‘Good afternoon, viewers, we have a very special guest for our opening day of Wimbledon coverage. Britain’s number one men’s player and fan favourite, George Hampden!’
Cheers ring out around the grounds at his name. It’s overwhelming, the support, and I exchange a small glance with Jack, mouthing ‘wow’ as George waves, nodding in acknowledgement.
The interviewer, Kate, continues, ‘George, it’s a pleasure to have you here today. How does it feel to be back at Wimbledon?’
‘Pretty great, thank you, Kate. It’s always amazing to be here in front of the home fans. The support is incredible and I just hope that this is the year I can do everyone proud.’
The interviewer looks almost taken aback at his response. Strange. She carries on, as I hear someone behind me.
‘Bloody hell, that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say!’
‘Are you sure that’s George Hampden?’ another voice chimes in, laughing.
My mouth parts with a gasp as it hits me.
He’s not hiding behind his facade. His mask.
He looks like him. My George.
I turn to Jack and he smiles back, nodding towards the screen.
‘Now you’re still the favourite to win, despite the upset at Roland-Garros. Can you talk us through what happened that night?’
‘Gosh, straight in there! Well, Kate . . .’ He pauses, taking a deep breath. ‘I actually had a panic attack on the court and unfortunately it meant I had to forfeit.’
I look around as a crowd starts to form in front of the screen, even current players drawn in by his revelation, his voice ringing around the ground. I see Ryder Cedars at the front, a smile on his face, his expression a mixture of pride and awe.
He continues, ‘I’ve been suffering for a while with anxiety, for a number of reasons that I won’t share, but Melbourne last year was the first time I had a full-blown attack.
I’ve managed to hide it well over the years, but that’s not healthy.
In fact, that made it all worse, and it’s been an ongoing issue that I’ve been working on with my sports psychologist, Hope.
’ He looks straight to the camera. ‘Shout-out to Hope for having to deal with me when I’ve been an absolute arsehole, she’s a saint.
’ He winks and I hear a few giggles scattered across the terrace.
Kate seems surprised, but urges him gently. ‘Apologies, viewers, for the language there. I’m sorry, George.’
‘It’s OK, Kate.’ He cuts her off with a smile.
He’s so assured, so confident. Pride blooms in my chest. ‘I’d rather share my experience to help others, in the hope that they don’t also feel they have to remain silent.
The pressure of the tour is immense and can be lonely at times.
It’s a long time to be travelling, away from reality and routine.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic, but if you don’t have the right support around you, it’s .
. . hell, actually. I nearly gave it all up, nearly decided I didn’t actually want to be here at all, and if it wasn’t for my best friend, Jack, I don’t know what I would have done. ’
I look at Jack, but he doesn’t meet my gaze, his head bowed, and I loop my arm through his in support, squeezing gently.
George continues. ‘But it’s not just the players that can suffer with the highs and lows of tennis. We have a vast network around us to ensure we are at our best on the court. If those people aren’t right, you won’t find success, that’s it. It’s why I have decided to change my management team.’
Kate raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re no longer working with your brother?’
‘No, Kate. He was not a positive influence on me, nor the rest of my team. And ultimately, it’s those people who need looking after too.’
Considering the volume of murmurs rising around me, that’s news to the tour.
‘Wow. Well . . .’ She seems flustered, but looks down at her notes.
This clearly wasn’t what she expected today.
‘You’ve recently been receiving some off-court support, haven’t you, George?
How has that contributed to your recent form?
Not counting your last match of course, but your first round in Paris, you were unstoppable. ’
This is it. The big moment for Mayfair Lifestyle. I roll my eyes, not wanting to hear any kind of positive promotion for Cece, for the company I basically gave my entire career to before blowing it all up.
‘Well, Kate, I met a woman. A pretty incredible woman actually.’ He scratches the back of his neck, moving in his seat.
He’s nervous. ‘I’m not very good at this, but she’s made me realize it’s OK to be vulnerable.
She encouraged me to be open, to share and face things head-on.
She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. ’
I can’t believe what he’s saying. And neither can everyone else. A few wolf whistles go up as more and more people join to listen.
‘But I messed it up, Kate. I let those outside influences exploit my insecurities. I nearly f—’ He stops himself. ‘I nearly destroyed the best thing in my life. But I need her to know.’
I freeze, Jack squeezing my arm now as George smiles down the camera.
‘Leo James, you’ve made me a better man than I could ever have hoped. You’ve brought me back to myself, allowed me to enjoy life again, to actually like the person I really am. I’m so sorry I was such an idiot, but I promise I’ll spend my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me?’
I let out a nervous laugh and heads turn towards me, some faces blinking in recognition. I see Rainez grinning widely and can’t help but laugh again.
‘Leo, I love you.’
The crowd cheers wildly. This cannot be real. I’ll wake up any minute now.
But it is, and George’s brilliant smile is on the big screen before it zooms onto Kate, speechless for a second before regaining composure.
‘Well, a bit of an unorthodox start to the tournament, but there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! The secret to success in tennis, falling in love! Give it up for your number one, George Hampden!’
It pans to his chair, but he’s gone.
The crowd buzzes, even the players’ lounge is full of energy as everyone takes in what just happened.
I look at Jack, but he’s distracted, searching the crowd until his eyes settle on a tall figure striding through the room.
George. I run towards him as the room parts and he scoops me up in his arms, pulling me closer as my legs wrap around his waist. I bury my head into his firm chest, taking him in.
Overcome, totally overwhelmed. But he’s here, holding me tight.
‘I love you, Leo,’ he whispers against my ear. ‘I promise I will never fuck up again.’
I pull back and look him in the eye, laughing. ‘Pretty big promise there, George . . .’ He smiles and I kiss him deeply, the room erupting in whoops and cheers. ‘I won’t hold you to it, but I will say that I love you too.’
His answering smile warms my heart as he ducks again, kissing me, pouring everything into the connection between us. Our need for each other hasn’t waned. At all. His grip tightens and I feel safe in his arms as everything else melts away. It feels right, like I’m back where I belong.
All I can see, all I can feel, even hear, is him.
Until a voice in heavily accented Spanish interrupts, ‘Get a room!’
I laugh and wriggle, trying to get down, but George holds on tighter, carrying me down the hall as he calls back, ‘Fuck off, Rainez, she’s mine.’
——
‘George, you are going to have to put me down at some point . . .’ I giggle in his ear.
‘Nope. Never letting you go now I have you again.’ He turns suddenly, holding me up in one hand while his other opens a door. His head falls into the nape of my neck. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Leo.’ His voice goes quiet. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’
He takes us into a private locker room and puts me down, shutting the door behind him.
I take his hands in mine, needing to touch him. To know he’s really there.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, George, didn’t explain why I left.’ I shake my head, not wanting to ruin the moment but needing him to know that it’s OK. ‘I just . . . I didn’t want to make a fuss and spoil your tournament.’
He groans, dropping my hands and taking my face in his. ‘When will you realize? I couldn’t give a fuck about tennis when it comes to you?’ He looks at me seriously. ‘You are everything, Leo. My top priority. Nothing is more important to me.’
‘Not even Wimbledon?’ I suppress my smile as he caresses my jaw.
‘Not even Wimbledon,’ he whispers, his lips dropping to that perfect spot below my ear. ‘I’ll forfeit now just to stay in here and fuck you all afternoon . . .’
‘You absolutely will not!’ I shove him back, although of course I can’t move him.
He’s far too strong. Those delicious muscles on show in his Wimbledon whites.
He looks delectable. My hands move instead to his hard chest, my fingers drifting down to those exquisite abs.
I’ve missed him. ‘Remember my rule, George, don’t think you’re guaranteed to stay at number four.
’ I pretend to look over his shoulder. ‘Is Rainez still around?’
‘Don’t you fucking dare, you naughty girl.’ He nips at my neck, looping my hands around his, as he lifts me again, pushing me against the wall. He presses his crotch against me, already hard, and my body reacts instantly. ‘Is this a big enough ranking for you?’ He grins.
My laugh is cut short as his soft lips find mine, all other thoughts disappearing as he grinds into me and heat rushes to my core.
One hand moves across me, pinning me in place as his other travels slowly up my arm, teasing the straps of my dress. He pauses suddenly.
‘Is this a sundress, Leo?’
‘It is indeed, cowboy . . .’
He doesn’t bother to take off my underwear, pulling down his before pushing mine aside and guiding himself inside me in one movement.
I gasp at the first thrust, the sensation overwhelming after so long without, his groan eliciting another rush of wetness as he slides in and out, deeper and deeper each time.
‘I love you, Leo,’ he pants, breathless already. He kisses me roughly, speaking against my lips as he continues to take me, over and over again. He’s so hard, so hot inside me, and the delicious pressure already starts to build. ‘I love you so much.’
‘And I you, George,’ I manage to get out, already close. ‘I love you.’
‘I’m close, Leo, so fucking close . . .’ His pace quickens, his movements sloppier as he starts to come, and he moves one hand between us.
I grip onto his shoulders as his fingers find my clit, and then I’m right there too, squeezing tight as my muscles contract around him.
He groans loudly, his head falling to my shoulder as we both come down from the high, panting heavily.
A few minutes later, he’s still inside me, neither of us willing to move as we kiss slowly, unable to break the contact.
A sharp knock brings us to our senses.
‘Mr Hampden, you are required on court in thirty minutes.’ The man pauses. ‘I suggest you, er, finish up and meet us promptly.’
I hide my giggle in his shoulder, as George winks at me, shouting through the door, ‘Don’t worry, John. All finished up here! See you shortly.’
I kiss him again as he gently puts me down, smoothing out my dress and tucking my hair behind my ears.
‘Not the kind of conduct one expects at the All England Lawn Tennis Club,’ I pretend to reprimand him.
‘I couldn’t give a fuck.’ He pulls his shorts up and grins at me, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. ‘Shall we?’