by K. Bromberg
“Scottie,” he says, and my heart warms that he remembers his name.
“Think of the hope you’d give Scottie if he knew how you made it.”
Rush shoves up off the bench and takes a few steps before coming back and sitting. There’s obviously something more here.
“You told me that I didn’t trust you. I struggle with trust, Lennox. With letting people get close. Especially after”—he flicks his hand in a show of indifference—“everything that happened recently. But after what you’ve shared with me this past weekend—your family and your life—I owe you this.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say and reach out, needing to reassure him with my touch.
“Let me rephrase,” he says, meeting my eyes. “I want to let you in.”
My heart swells. I’m not sure whether I should be scared or elated, so I’ll settle for somewhere in the middle, because each one of those emotions means different things.
Fear means I know I’m going to hurt him. Elation means I want more with him and from him. And I’m not ready to commit to either yet, because I’m emotionally scared to take the chance.
“Rush.” My voice is so heavy with emotion. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me I’m not making a mistake. Tell me that I’m talking to Lennox the woman and not Lennox the agent. Tell me that what I tell you will stay strictly between us. Tell me that I can trust you.”
“You can trust me, Rush.” I know the weight those words carry.
And . . . he does. He starts with the stolen cookies and banana, to a police officer who controls his son. He takes me through their history together, including his loyalty to a moment in time Archibald gave him that allowed him the life he now leads. He explains about Helen wrapping him in her motherly love even when she already had a son of her own who struggled often. A mother’s love that he so desperately needed. A family to turn to, who supported him, and who helped him bury the past he was so ashamed of.
Then he gets to the pictures of Esme and Rory and my heart sinks.
Not for anything other than how a teenage boy still feels like he owes a debt to others, when he’s the one who’s made himself the man he is today, not them.
“So that’s it. That’s everything.” His voice is shaky, and the way he stares at me, as if he’s waiting for me to look at him differently, nearly undoes me. I itch to pull him against me and hold on tight, but know he’ll feel pity instead of the overwhelming compassion I feel for him.
“Thank you for trusting me, Rush.”
“No comments? No anything?” he asks.
“If you want me to tell you I think less of you, then you’re crazy.”
“No, I thought you’d tell me I was crazy because I took the fall for Rory.”
“Is that what you’re most worried about?”
He refuses to look at me. I squat between his knees so he’s forced to look at me.
To anyone else hiking on this hill, we’re just a couple having an intense conversation eye to eye, heart to heart.
To me, walls are breaking down. I’m burdened with so much information.
Rush reaches out and toys with the charm on my necklace, the compass that is so similar in meaning to the one he sports over his heart, and a ghost of a smile plays over his lips.
It’s fleeting, but it’s there.
“It’s been a lot harder to keep my promise, but he’s my oldest friend. His life is more important than my reputation. As to Archibald . . . fuck, Archibald’s career and a successful election isn’t something I care about or something that I should bear on my shoulders, but Rory? Rory is. And Helen. How could I let her down? After taking me in, how could I not protect Rory when he was the only one who befriended me? Even after they told me I was a part of them, I didn’t trust it to be real for the longest time. But Rory never stopped trying. He could have. There were a lot of boys there that were wealthy too. Yet, he knew where I came from and never treated me differently. Archibald wasn’t kind to Rory, either, and I often feared Rory would despise me because of his father’s constant comparison between us.” He takes a deep breath and pauses. “He could have hated me. Yet he doesn’t.”
My God, this man is amazing. And by the sounds of it, Rory deserves his loyalty.
But I’m not convinced he deserves Rush’s enormous sacrifice. So, how do I explain that he doesn’t need to repay someone for simply being a decent human being? However, I told Rush I’d listen. It’s not my place to judge.
“I understand, but I don’t think you’re taking enough credit for what’s on the line for you right now.”
“His life is important. How could I let down the only family I have?” We both look to our left as a couple walk past and wave in greeting. After they pass, Rush speaks. “Esme’s in town.” He makes the comment like it’s an afterthought. He stares at me, waiting to see my reaction. To see if I believe him. “She’s in town for a benefit concert.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Full transparency.” He pulls his baseball hat down lower over his eyes as a group of guys come clambering up the hill behind us, one wearing a Manchester United shirt. “If she’s here, and I’m here, there’s bound to be some rumors. Maybe then you’ll see how easy it is for the press to manipulate situations and people to believe whatever they publish.”
“I already know about that,” I say, trying to digest everything he’s said, the fallout he’s willing to endure because of it, and the incredulity of the man right before me. “You didn’t have to tell me any of this.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?” I all but whisper.
“Because there’s something here, Nox. Something between us that, for the first time in my adult life, makes me not feel alone. I needed you to know that I trust you.”
Placing my hand on the back of his neck, my forehead to his, I press my lips to his. I am in awe of this man. To know he feels there’s something between us? Brings me hope, as I am not ready to say goodbye. But I can give him what he needs. My faith in him. “You can trust me, Rush. I promise.”
LENNOX
I STARE AT THE CEILING with Rush’s soft snores beside me. His leg draped over mine, I struggle with a serious moral dilemma. Between Lennox the agent and Lennox the woman in love. Between what I know would be best for his career versus what I know would be best for us.
Tell me that I can trust you, Lennox.
My heart swells with a warmth I’ve never experienced.
Sure there’s love for your family, but this . . . this feeling in my chest when it comes to Rush is something altogether different.
My mind reels.
Are there more pictures of the kiss around the world between Esme and Rory? I’ve stared at image after image of Rory tonight on my Google search and can see exactly how this happened. Hell, my bet is that the photographer knew the man wasn’t Rush, but sold the picture that hides the tattoo on Rory’s hand.
A pop princess and a Liverpool football star? That’s serious money paid out to a paparazzo for a single photo.
I have to turn my agent brain off.
He’s not my client.
He’s my lover.
He’s my love.
RUSH
“I NEED YOU TO TELL me all of this bullshit is over.”
“Hello, Finn. Nice to talk to you.” I roll my shoulders at the sound of his voice. I’ve never felt much affinity for Finn Sanderson, but I have zero respect since Dekker’s revelation. The prick.
If I’d heard what he’d said before I met Lennox, I might have believed it without question. I would have taken the rumors he gave and assumed they were true.
But I do know her. I’ve seen how hard she works, I’ve overheard her fighting for her clients on the phone, and I’ve watched her worry about their well-being. She’s had every chance to ask me to trade agencies and hasn’t.
Integrity. Classy. Passionate.
The woman is fucking everything, and the fact
that Finn would smear her name only proves that he knows it too. That he’s intimidated by her. Because if he was just as talented, he’d meet her on a level playing field rather than drag her through the mud.
My fists clench as I fight not to unload this on Finn and tell him what I really think of him. Currently, he’s the one with my future in his hands and I need to heed that.
Besides, if I say something to him, doesn’t it prove him right? That she’s pulling me over to her side? And, I’ve slept with her. He’d crucify her.
“I’m serious, Rush. I have two ridiculously large offers for you right now. One comes with strings attached to your public behavior and the other one says the wilder the better.”
“I’ll take the strings, Finn,” I say, already assuming which offer has what restrictions. “I appreciate all that Cannon has offered and can understand the why behind it. You, as my agent, also have to understand why the answer is no.”
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime offer, Rush.”
“And this is my lifetime.” I shift on my feet. “Tell me about the Liverpool offer.”
I hear his sigh and can imagine his eye roll too. He truly believes the MLS deal is what I want. Prick. “My ass and credibility are on the line right now. I’ve given a thousand reasons why they can’t win the Premiership without you and why if they traded you, the fans would riot. I’ve promised up one side and down another that you will be a goddamn choir boy—in the clubhouse, on the field, in your personal life.”
“My personal life?”
“Yeah. That means don’t fuck any more of your teammate’s wives.”
My chuckle doesn’t hold an ounce of amusement. It’s been months, and my own agent still doesn’t fucking believe me. Lennox believed me even before I told her the truth.
She’s right. There must be trust between an agent and his client and right now, there is none.
It died the minute he looked me in the eye and believed I wasn’t a man of integrity. And I’m only realizing that now.
“As I’ve told you, I never fucked my teammate’s wife. But I’ll promise. That’s an easy one to make. And on the flip side, you figure out how to control the press and their rumors and everyone will be happy.”
“I’m fucking serious, Rush.”
“So am I,” I growl. “You made the promises. I’ll make the same to you and to the club. What’s the deal?”
“They can’t trade Seth and they won’t trade you.”
“Great. Fine. No skin off my back. Tell the fucker to keep his hands to himself and everything will be just fine.”
“But I need less hostility from you too. They demanded it. I promised it. Are we clear?”
“Yes.” Anticipation vibrates through me. “What’re the terms?”
“I sent you an email spelling everything out. They’re looking at you for the long-haul, Rush. They want you to be the face of the club. That’s why from here on out, no more bullshit. No more—”
“I already told you,” I say, the scare tactic not needed. I already almost lost the one thing I love. There’s no way I would ever risk it again. “I understand.”
“Don’t I at least get a pat on the back?” Finn asks, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or serious.
“No.”
“Jesus, cut me a break, Rush.”
“I’ll pat you on the back when the ink is dried on the contract.”
“Speaking of which, they want to do a big to-do when you sign it.”
“It’s the digital age, can’t we do one of those electronic signatures?” I ask, not wanting to take any chances.
“We’re still buttoning up the final details. I’ll get it to you as soon as I have it . . . but in the meantime, sit tight for details.” Someone says something to him in the background. “I’ve got to run. Talk soon.”
Finn ends the call and when I look at my email, at the staggering numbers on the page and the seven-year contract connected to it, I sag against the wall at my back in relief.
Tears fill my eyes.
I feel stupid, but it’s not until right now, this moment, that I realize how fucking scared I was that I was going to be transferred.
That I’d be kicked out of the one and only true place I’ve ever called home.
I take a minute to soak in the moment. To appreciate that I didn’t fuck up my life in the process of saving Rory’s.
That this nightmare is finally over.
And then I set off through the house like a madman.
“Nox! Lennox?” God, I need her. “Lennox.”
“Rush? What?” She runs into the kitchen and I grab her before she can ask anything else. I press my lips to hers.
Her laughter breaks us apart. “You can’t give me a heart attack just to kiss me,” she says and then pulls on my shirt to take one more.
“They want me back. Liverpool wants me back. Offer made. Contract in the works.”
She freezes momentarily as her eyes find mine, and then a megawatt grin overtakes her face. “Congratulations.” She slides her hands around my neck and presses her lips to mine again. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmurs.
“Oh, Jesus,” Johnny says as he rounds the corner and puts his hands up in an X over his eyes. “I have guests in tow. Can we not put on a live sex show for them? I mean, I’m known as the party boy, but this is a little much.”
“No shows will be happening,” I say as I pull Lennox against me, my hands digging into her back pockets. “But there will definitely be partying.”
Johnny’s eyes narrow. “For what?”
“Because I’m going back home soon.”
Johnny whoops out and says “Liverpool?”
“Liverpool.”
“Fucking A straight, baby,” he hollers at the top of his lungs. “Time for alcohol!” And whoever is behind him cheers loudly.
But I’m not so wrapped up in the moment that I don’t feel Lennox’s jolt.
How could I be when I feel the same way too? How can I be when the woman in my arms feels a lot like home to me now too?
LENNOX
“IS THERE A REASON YOU’RE out here all on your lonesome?” Johnny asks, taking a seat beside me and wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
“No reason,” I say and rest my head on his shoulder, welcoming his presence. “Just making decisions.”
Rush’s laughter floats just above the music playing on the overhead speakers. Inside is a party of sorts, with the friends Johnny brought home and some of the guys from the MLS exhibition team that Rush has been playing with.
I believe there’s a drinking game happening over foosball but I don’t know for sure.
“Would those decisions have anything to do with the man currently three sheets to the wind inside?”
“Perhaps.”
I close my eyes for a beat as the breeze tickles my hair on my cheek, and I allow myself to feel sad.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Yes, you do.” He knocks his knee against mine. “Talk to me.”
“I’m allowing myself to be sad for tonight only. Pity party of one. And then by the time he wakes up with one helluva hangover tomorrow, it’ll be gone.”
“Just like that?”
“What he’ll see, yes. I’m the queen at hiding emotion, Johnny. You know that.” I fall silent, trying to figure out how to articulate what I’ve concluded since Rush ran into the kitchen with a grin that lit up the room to tell me he was leaving.
It’s not like I didn’t already know it was going to happen, but it definitely knocked me off balance momentarily.
“So what’s your plan then?” Johnny asks.
“My plan is to simply have fun. To have fun and enjoy my time with him. A no-regrets thing.”
“Ah, so your goal is to pretend that you’re not in love with him by pushing him back to the we’re just going to have fun, wild sex at an arm’s length, right? Do you actually think that’s going to protect your heart?”
/> “No.” Nothing will protect my heart. “But it’s what I need to do for him. This is his time to shine and nothing should hold him back from doing so. I don’t need him feeling guilty. I mean, we knew there was a finite time to this. To us.”
“It is the digital age, Lenn. You could make the distance work.”
“Much easier said than done.” I chuckle. “If we had been together for a year, yeah, I could imagine trying to make it work, but this is a drop in the bucket to—”
“Drop in the bucket or not,” he says, “that doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t legitimate.”
“Look, I appreciate you trying, but the best thing to do is shove my emotions away, put on a brave face, and—”
“And then I’ll hold you when you bawl your eyes out after he leaves.”
“Exactly,” I say and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for that.”
“The MLS gig is up when?”
“Three days.”
“At least you’ll have some time together after that, and before he leaves, to chill together. I have trips I can take and people I can see to give you guys some space.”
“You’ve done more than enough. The last thing we’re going to do is kick you out of your own house.”
“There you two are,” Rush says, his voice a little slurred as he walks over. “You trying to steal my girl, Johnny-John?”
“Never,” Johnny says as we both rise from the chaise. “You done winning all their money at pool?”
“Maybe,” Rush says with a sheepish grin as Johnny walks past with a pat on his head and moves inside. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Rush reaches out and pulls me against him. I fight the tears that threaten, and I fight the urge to dig my fingers into his back and pull him against me and never let him go.
The music overhead shifts to something softer and Rush presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Dance with me,” he murmurs.
“What?” I laugh, but don’t let go.
“There’s too much beauty where I’m standing right now not to take advantage of it. The night. The moon. You.” He lifts my chin so I’m forced to look in his eyes. “Dance with me, Nox.”
