Cress snorted with laughter. ‘Oh, make sure you say that to Petra, please. She’ll die of laughter.’
Quin was chuckling as they made their way to the hotel where the Sydney Sirens Season Launch dinner was being held, and Cress couldn’t be more pleased. Tonight, the taxi ride was easy. Quin wasn’t perspiring, or rigid. He was relaxed, laughing with her, and completely charming company. Now she understood his comment about seeing another side to someone when they were in formal attire. This Quin was not Quin from last weekend.
This Quin was … everything. Gorgeous. Funny. Sweet. Muscular. Caring. Her best friend in the world. And so, so, so far out of bounds. She had to gulp before reminding herself of that for the ten millionth time. But for tonight, Cress thought she’d pretend to be Cinderella at the ball with Prince Charming, and at midnight, she’d go back to her normal self.
A repeat of last week, they paid the driver and then paused before the hotel. Everything else was completely different, which made Cress glad they’d gone out on the non-date. Quin was relaxed and comfortable, friendly and accommodating. Not stressed at all.
‘Here are the girls.’ Quin broke her musing. Petra, Kirstin and Geral, along with their dates, strode towards them. Petra was stunning in black, Kirstin in orange, and Geral in a gorgeous sea-green.
‘Ladies, you all look absolutely stunning.’ Quin greeted them with a slight bow and then turned to be introduced to their dates. The men formed their own small group, as the girls drifted around Cress. Segregation, just like Grong Grong.
‘Oh. My. Goodness.’ Kirstin’s words came out between gasps.
‘What?’ They stared at her. Cress wondered what she’d seen or heard to make her shell-shocked; Kirstin wasn’t easily rattled.
‘Men.’ Her word was a gasp.
It made no sense to Cress. ‘Surely you expected men to be here, you bought some yourselves.’
Kirstin shook her head. ‘Not men. Gods. Football gods. Here.’
Cress turned, and walking towards them was a bunch of players, today’s and those from the past. They halted and shook hands with Quin, were introduced to the guys and then the girls. Cress hoped Kirstin wouldn’t swoon on the spot.
As they wandered off, Kirstin grabbed Cress’s arm. ‘Oh, my, I keep forgetting Quin is one of them.’
Cress chuckled as her brows lifted. ‘How do you forget that?’
Kirstin shook her head. ‘I think because he’s yours, I’ve just moved him out of my mind.’
Cress almost automatically said, ‘he’s not mine,’ but stopped the words. For tonight, she was going to pretend he was. Just for tonight. She bit the denial away and grinned.
Kirstin groaned. ‘Man, I hope one day I’m as happy as you.’ She linked her arm with Cress, and called out, ‘Let’s take this party inside.’
Quin came over to them, grinning. ‘I’m so proud of you. You didn’t squeal or anything.’
Kirstin swatted his arm. ‘Inside I was squealing really, really loudly, but you’re so casual about it. I didn’t want to embarrass you.’
Quin laughed and looked at Cress. ‘I seem to remember him on your bedroom wall.’
Cress laughed. ‘Hey, I was a kid. Don’t mock my poster choices.’
‘You know who was on her bedroom wall?’ Petra asked, her eyebrows going higher with each word uttered.
Cress frowned at Petra and then looked up at Quin. His deep gaze snared hers, his lips were slightly curled into a smile, a little apart so she could see the white of his teeth. She looked back at Petra. ‘Quin half-lived at our place.’
‘I wasn’t allowed to have boys in my bedroom,’ Petra said with a smirk.
‘With four brothers, I had no hope of that.’ Cress chuckled remembering all the times she’d tried to make her room out of bounds, without any success.
Quin shrugged. ‘Your room didn’t look any different to the boys’ rooms anyway.’
Petra gasped and smacked his forearm. ‘She’s a girl. Can’t you tell that?’
Quin’s gaze took a lazy stroll across her face and down her body. Tingles followed. ‘Oh, I can tell. Very much so. It was her room I was commenting on.’
Holy heck.
Cress was going to burn to a crisp, from internal spontaneous combustion. Quin’s gaze had lit her flesh, but his words and the tone of his voice lit the insides and fanned the flames. He sounded like he had a plate of his mum’s lemon meringue pie and ice-cream in front of him. Salivating. Anticipating his favourite dessert in the world. And he was speaking about her.
Her.
She blinked. Swallowed. And said the first thing that came into her head. ‘His posters got swapped out anyway.’
‘Oh, who for?’
Cress stared at Quin, then looked at the ground. She turned her head to Petra and Kirstin but they weren’t helping her out at all. They had dopey grins on their faces as if they knew exactly who’d been on her wall once Quin had left town. She had to think of something.
Anything.
Petra grabbed Cress’s arm and spun her towards the auditorium. Cress almost sagged against her. They took two steps. And Cress was sure she’d been saved. She turned to Petra with thanks on her lips, but Petra’s sly grin made Cress hesitate. Then Petra called over her shoulder, ‘Pretty sure it was you, Pretty Boy.’
Cress couldn’t look. Nor could she move. She heard Quin splutter. She heard Kirstin giggle, and Geral’s snort. And then Petra tugged on her arm, hard, and Cress’s feet did what they were supposed to do.
When she could get moisture in her mouth, and a breath past the lump in her throat, she hissed from the side of her mouth. ‘Gee, thanks for that. I thought you were my friend.’
Petra’s grin was evil and wicked. ‘You should have seen his face, Cress. He had no idea.’
Cress bit her lips and tipped her head. ‘It could have stayed that way.’
‘No fear. That’s the best thing in the world. I’m so glad I guessed right.’
‘I’m not.’ Cress wanted to huff and storm away but then Quin would only catch her and interrogate her, and she wasn’t ready for that. She’d never be ready for that. This Cinderella thing wasn’t all it was cut out to be.
Petra found their table and then Cress was left next to her seat, and Quin. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be with Quin. Not now. Not with that secret exposed.
He brushed his thumb against her collarbone, his hand closing over the back of her shoulder. ‘Let me get your chair for you, Watercress.’ His voice was a soft, deep murmur against her ear and it sent skitters down her spine. All she needed now was for those to be actual goosebumps that he’d notice.
It’d be alright if she could flee, leaving only a shoe.
‘Thank you.’ Stepping aside, she allowed him to move the chair and seat her, but all the time the butterflies stampeded and she couldn’t lift her eyes above table height. It was going to be a long night.
When he sat beside her, he casually slung his arm across the back of her seat, and then his fingertips skimmed across her naked shoulderblade. He turned to her, his lips almost against her ear, his warm breath making her skin twitch. ‘You put my poster on your wall?’ His voice was soft, and held such a note of disbelief that Cress had to turn towards him. She had to look him in the eye. She steadied herself with her hand on his thigh.
‘You were my dream.’
He blinked and his torso jerked back just a few millimetres, but it was enough for Cress to realise what she’d said.
She gulped and squeezed his thigh. ‘A kid from Grong Grong, who got to play footy in the national comp. It’s all I ever wanted to do, and you were doing it.’
He leaned closer again, his head next to hers, and the intimacy of the moment was almost killing her. ‘And now you’ll be a poster on someone’s wall.’
Her gasp was so very loud, and her reaction blew her back from their intimate chat. She stared at him, not quite understanding, or believing. ‘Me?’
He nodded his head. Slowly. His ga
ze not wavering from hers.
She let it sink in—his words, the meaning, the moment. ‘Wow. Quin. Wow.’
He caught her hand, lifted it from his thigh in both of his hands and held it against his chest. ‘Now you know what that felt like. Is it true?’
Unwittingly, Cress bit her lips. She wanted to act cool and just nod with a casual shoulder lift, but she couldn’t do that. Instead, her lips curled in, her eyes widened, and heat rushed up her cheeks. She nodded.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Cress chuckled. ‘I always thought one of my brothers had blabbed. They all threatened to do it every time they wanted me do something I wouldn’t.’
Quin laughed, with a proper Quin laugh, and squeezed her hand as he released it. Whatever tension Cress had bunched up inside her eased.
The fairytale had passed. She was just Cress, and he was just Quin.
They all chatted while waiting for the entrees.
The dinner was much less formal than Cress expected. There were speeches and formal moments, but sitting at a table with Quin, the girls, and their dates was fun. Even with Hayley and her date making up the ten at the table. Cress had hoped for Mattie and Claudine, but they were seated with some of the older girls.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ Quin asked as the main meal plates were being removed. She’d been distracted by the waiter and turned to Quin, catching his gaze on the plunging neckline of her dress.
Heat flooded her, starting at her navel and radiating upwards. Then she mentally shook herself. There was nothing for him to see. The dress was stuck on with tape, and she barely had any breasts to push the fabric out. He knew she had no boobs because in her crop tops she had none, and the dress could hardly make them grow. So why was he looking?
She shifted, and the heat spread across her shoulders and down her arms.
He nudged her with his elbow and grinned. A normal Quin grin. ‘Are you having fun?’
Smiling, Cress nodded. Before she could find any words to speak, a tap-tap-tapping began on the microphone and the room, once again, fell silent for another formal segment.
The MC for the evening called the coach to the stage. Cress had a heap of respect for the woman who coached them. Jolene Sawler was tough but fair. Footy savvy and cunning, with a passion for winning. She was instilling that drive into every Siren player and Cress had never felt as buoyed or positive.
Jolene held a card but spoke without referring to it. She spoke of the team, the commitment necessary to play in the highest division, and the skill and dedication she’d found in the players she now had the pleasure to coach. Then she glanced at the card, the room paused. Cress was sure they all hung off every word, as she did.
Jolene said, ‘It is my greatest pleasure to announce the captains for our team.’
A murmur went through the room. There was movement to the side of the stage, but Cress couldn’t see who was there.
‘Our team captain is Ali Saunders.’ The room erupted into cheers. Ali was a popular choice, one of the oldest girls in the squad, and the person Cress had expected to be named captain. She’d captained the state team last year, so she’d seemed like a logical choice. Cress clapped until her hands ached.
Ali was called onto the stage, and one of the all-time footy gods presented her with her team guernsey, and Cress almost shouted herself hoarse.
Jolene tapped the microphone after the presentation and the room became quiet. ‘All captains need a good vice captain. To fill that role, helping Ali, it is my pleasure to appoint, as vice captain, Mattie Jamieson.’
Cress thought her face might split and her hands might drop off. She, the girls on her table, and those on Mattie’s almost shouted and clapped the room down. Quin gave a few good whistles, and a beaming Mattie appeared on stage to accept her jumper.
‘This is fantastic,’ Cress yelled as she grabbed onto Quin’s shoulder. Energy buzzed through her, making sitting and standing too constricting. Yet she could hardly run around the room, or take off from the dinner. Her legs jiggled and she wriggled and squirmed in her seat, clutching and releasing Quin in between her cheering.
The energy in the room was huge. Names were called as each Sirens player was presented with their guernsey and hollers and whoops filled the room. When she and her friends were called, Quin helped her to stand, briefly holding her against his chest, which gave her the strength and sanity to follow the girls up on stage.
Her absolute favourite ex-player was before her with her exquisite team jumper. He walked towards her. She extended her hand to shake his but he hugged her instead. Flustered, bewildered, and wishing this moment never ended, Cress accepted his hug. ‘Congratulations, Cress. I’ve been watching you and you’re in for a fantastic season.’ He presented her with her guernsey and she had nothing. No words. No brain. And jelly for legs.
Her lips flapped and she hoped she might have thanked him, or murmured something intelligent, but she hadn’t a clue.
She stood there in a complete daze. Then Mattie slipped an arm across her shoulders and the team stood united, arms over each other’s shoulders. The room got louder and louder. It seemed to swell and recede, as if the sound was truly a wave.
Cress was sure her cheeks would burst, or her lips would split.
She found Quin in the crowd and he had his phone out and was taking photos. His eyes were huge, his smile even larger and he whistled so loudly she thought Dad might hear it back in Grong Grong.
The night really was a fairytale.
When they went back to their tables and the room had quietened, waitstaff began to bring out dessert. Cress had eyes only for her guernsey. She looked up and caught Petra’s gaze. Cress’s lips quirked, and she bit them before she nodded at Petra. Petra’s eyes almost bugged from her face, but she nudged Kirstin and tipped her head towards Cress.
Cress held her guernsey out for just a moment. It was gorgeous. The club colours. The logo. Her name. Her number. She drew in a breath and then pulled the shirt over her head, over her dress and stuck her arms through the armholes.
Quin chuckled and his phone snapped.
Petra, Kirstin, Geral and Hayley had their guernseys on in a flash. When they all stood up and moved to a huddle so Quin could take a photo of them all, more girls dragged their shirts on over their formal gear. Pretty soon the whole team was in a photo with new jumpers over formal clothes. Cress couldn’t stop her grin, even if the world came to an end. There was no time she could remember being happier, or prouder, or more excited.
‘Sirens.’ Someone’s shout turned into many shouts, and then the team song. It was quite some time before the team disbanded. Desserts and partners had been forgotten for a while, but not for that long. Not long enough for the ice-cream to completely melt.
When things quietened down, Cress grabbed Quin’s arm. ‘I should send Dad a photo.’
Quin glanced down at the table and then briefly at Cress, before studying the table again. His eyes were a little squinted, his lips thinned and his jaw worked. He looked back at her. ‘I’m sorry. I sent him the photos when you were announced. I should have thought you’d want to tell him yourself.’
Cress launched herself at Quin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ She pressed another kiss to his cheek, then noticed the pink blush creeping up his face and she laughed and sat back down. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to make another scene. I’m just …’
‘Excited?’ He filled in the end of her sentence, punctuated with another huge Quin grin. He handed her his phone so she could read the text messages from Dad. Her eyes watered and she had to rub them before she could focus.
She read and then bit on the knuckle of her forefinger, hoping that would stop the cascade of emotion she was scared would erupt from her.
She tapped out a message. ‘Dad. So totally stoked you cannot believe. Wish you were here but Quin’s doing a great job. Talk tomorrow. Lov
e you. Cress xoxox’
She handed Quin his phone and gave him another shoulder squeeze. ‘Thank you for being here.’
He pressed his palm against his chest. ‘Believe me, it’s my absolute pleasure. I’m only sorry your dad isn’t here instead.’
She shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t have had as much fun with Dad.’
His gaze met hers and didn’t leave. He seemed to be searching her soul. Maybe he didn’t believe her but her words were truth. Dad would have been cheering. Her brothers would have been the same. Only Quin knew what receiving her guernsey meant. Quin understood her. All of her.
Or almost.
She blinked and looked away. It was okay for him to know that she was being honest; but she didn’t want him to see too deeply. If he knew her true feelings for him, she wasn’t sure what he’d do but she knew it wouldn’t be good for the footy season ahead. And the footy season was all that mattered.
Chapter 14
‘Feel like dancing?’ Quin hardly needed to ask. Cress would have jumped up to dance on her own, but he wanted to dance with her. It was years since he’d seen this exuberant, bubbling side of Cress and it was as contagious now as it was when they were kids.
‘Sure do.’ She reached for his hand and led him out to the area cleared for dancing. She was effervescent. Sparkling under the lights, gleaming with joy, radiant.
She danced as if lost in the music, moving sinuously or staccato, but always moving. It made Quin forget his self-consciousness about dancing. He’d shed his jacket and tie, had rolled up his sleeves and now was enjoying moving with Watercress.
They weren’t alone in the space, it was filled with people doing the same thing … burning off energy and excitement. Adrenaline was addictive, and the room seemed on a high.
Cress’s hands were above her head as she shimmied to the beat, that dress sliding across her body. Quin moved closer, catching her fingers and shimmying against her. She threw her head back and laughed, encouraging him. As he shimmied down, he dragged his fingers down hers, across the backs of her hands, over her tiny wrists, down the sinews of her forearms, then over the bumps and dips in the muscles of her upper arms.
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