Page 116 of Match Point

“Is it the tape we made at Christmas?” he asked. “I still haven’t watched it yet.”

“It’s better than that,” Dominic said while turning toward the TV.

The screen came on, and I hit play on the streaming service. The opening credits of the movie began to play. Tristan looked confused until the title screen flashed.

ROCKY

“Oh, what the fuck!” Tristan said, jerking against his restraints. “This isn’t sexy at all!”

“Nobody said it would be sexual,” Dominic pointed out.

“It is a love story!” Gabriel said while leaning back on a pillow.

“I’m the Australian Open champion,” Tristan complained. “We should do what I want.”

“We’ll do what you want later. After Rocky meets Adrian,” I promised.

“Spoilers,” Dominic hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

“Aw, I had the movie spoiled for me,” Tristan groaned. “I guess we don’t need to watch it now.”

“Please be quiet. We are trying to watch the movie,” Gabriel said.

“Bunch of cunts,” Tristan muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked. “And remember, I hold the keys to those handcuffs.”

Tristan flashed me a toothy smile. “They’re a bunch of cunts. You’re a sweet angel who I’m madly in love with.”

I brushed my lips against his. “Love you too.”

The four of us laughed and settled in for the movie. We had almost two dozen grand slam victories between us, spread out over the past fourteen years. Enough hardware to keep anyone happy. But we had something that mattered so much more than tennis trophies.

We had each other.