I looked up at him, his broad chest, his long legs. I was going to tackle that?
‘Worried you won’t be able to catch me?’ he asked, that twinkle in his eye again.
I rolled my shoulders back. ‘No way. Just a little concerned you’ll get hurt, and I’d hate to put you out when finals are this weekend.’
He laughed. Why did that make me feel so good?
‘Okay, on three. One, two …’ Sawyer took off down the field.
It’d been a long day, and an even longer night. My body ached before, and now it hurt even more, but somewhere deep inside I found a hidden reserve of strength.
He might have been fast.
But I was sure I was faster.
I raced after him. My legs pumped up and down, eating up the grass. I covered the distance between us, getting close, close, closer still, my eyes on the ball in his hand, shifting from side to side.
One step.
Two steps.
Three.
I dove.
My hands latched around the ball. Sawyer and I went down in a tangle of limbs and heat and mess.
I hit the unforgiving ground on my side, rolling straight to my right. Pain shot through my shoulder, through those tired muscles that had fought so hard today, and I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut just for a moment while I braced myself against the pain. I breathed heavy, short pants that clouded the early spring air.
‘You okay?’
Sawyer.
I opened my eyes. I was sprawled over his chest, one arm around his torso, the other trapped beneath me on the ground. I was sure if I just moved a little to the right, I could feel for myself how many abs he had for Aubrey’s personal knowledge.
Something stirred within me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on top of a guy like this.
He looked up at me with those ocean-green eyes, his lips slightly parted. His lips—I couldn’t stop looking at his lips. What would they feel like to kiss? What would they feel like on my ear, my neck, my breasts?
They would feel like heartbreak.
Like a path to another man who put sport over a woman time and time again.
‘I’m fine,’ I finally blurted, pushing off his chest and rolling away. I spied the ball, rolling a few feet away. ‘Hey!’
On all fours, I scrambled to it, tucking it under my arm before turning to face him, triumphant. ‘Told you I could catch you.’
‘You did.’ He propped himself up on his elbows, an impressed look on his face. ‘You sure did.’
Chapter 8
Sawyer
Zoe was … different.
And I didn’t just mean because she was the kind of beautiful that made you look twice, or because of how she was with Emily, which was kind, caring and supportive, without being patronising.
She was different because of the way she acted.
She didn’t treat me as if I was God’s gift to football, or to women. Not once had she asked me the usual fangirl questions, even though I knew from her kitbag she was an Adelaide Wraiths supporter so she must have followed the sport. Hell, you didn’t play like that, tackle like that, and not be an AFL fan.
And there was the kicker. She was incredible on the field. Half the guys in my team would be lucky to run quite as fast as her.
‘You’ve got a real shot at making the women’s league,’ I said, as we waited at the counter for our shakes.
‘Whatever.’ Zoe rolled her eyes, and they were a startling green-brown, the colour of the dirt we’d just trained on and the spinach leaves the woman behind the counter stuffed into my Lean, Green Killer drink. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls you convince to go to dinner with you.’
‘Actually, none of the girls usually need convincing,’ I teased. ‘Seriously, Zoe. You have a solid kick. Your pass game is strong, but the way you run …’ I let loose a low whistle. ‘Like a jet out of a cannon.’
She looked up at me with those big green eyes. ‘You think so?’
And because it seemed right, because I wanted to drive the sincerity of the moment home, I clasped one hand on her shoulder. ‘I know so.’
She looked up at me, her face all open and serious. I want to kiss her.
‘Zoe and Sawyer?’ the woman at the smoothie machine called.
My breath whooshed from my chest. What was I thinking?
Two tall cups slid across the counter and the woman turned to stuff more fruits and vegetables into her blender.
‘Thanks,’ Zoe and I said in unison, and the shy smile Zoe gave me after made my chest tighten again.
We walked down the street toward her car, quietly sipping our drinks as the night air cooled our bodies.
‘You don’t have to walk me,’ she said. ‘I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.’
‘I know. I’m mainly here in case some idiot guy steps in front of your vehicle when you pull out onto the road,’ I joked, and she laughed. ‘Seriously, though. I am sorry again about that—and I do live in the apartment building across the way from your Henry, so it’s no trouble for me to walk you there.’
‘Well, thanks,’ she said as we stopped at a set of lights. A tram slowly chugged past, the bell clanging as it slowed toward a stop. ‘Tell me more about yourself. How did you get into Aussie Rules?’
‘I guess it was in my blood. My dad used to play for the Killers. When we were kids, Kristy and I spent every weekend at a different stadium, following him around the country.’
‘Kristy’s your sister?’ Zoe asked, taking a sip of her drink.
‘Yeah. You met her the other night.’ She’s the one who chewed you out. The words almost slipped from my lips. Best to avoid that reminder. ‘We were home-schooled, so during the week we got to see Dad more than a lot of other football families would. In between training and games, we actually spent a fair bit of time together.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ The lights changed, and we walked across the road along with a host of late-night shoppers clutching oversized bags, and couples in big jackets with their hands entwined, clutching each other as if they were freezing.
I glanced down at Zoe in her light grey jacket trench. ‘You cold?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s fine.’
I pulled the black bomber material from my shoulders. ‘Because you can have my jacket if you—’
She placed one hand on my arm, and I felt it. I felt it through the material of my sweatshirt, through my blood, right through my body. ‘I said, I’m fine.’
I don’t move.
Neither did she.
I shifted my jacket back on, but I didn’t look away. Those startling green-brown eyes were impossible to look away from.
‘So your dad must be pretty proud of you now, huh?’ she asked, breaking the spell.
Dad. A familiar pain tightened my chest. I resumed our quick pace, headed back toward the cars. ‘He has dementia. So maybe he’s proud. Maybe he just doesn’t know.’
‘Sawyer, I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s fine. Not your fault.’ I shot her a grin. ‘Some people say he had a few too many knocks to the head when he used to play.’
‘I’ll have to look him up. I don’t know a lot of past players.’
‘Your interest in Aussie Rules is only new then?’ I took the lead, pausing at a crossing. A church towered to our right, gothic in the dark of night, and eerily beautiful.
‘Kind of. I started playing when I was sixteen.’ She paused, and when I turned to her, she nibbled at her bottom lip. I want to pull it out from between those teeth.
Whoa.
Where had that thought come from?
‘My boyfriend was a big AFL fan. He wanted to go pro, join the league, so I helped him train every night after school when his friends were all out drinking and partying.’ She gave a tight smile.
‘You regret that?’ I stopped walking, stepping to the side so a man and his Great Dane could pass.
‘Yes. No.’ She shrugged. ‘Yes, because I gave up my own dr
eams to make his real. No, because I love Aussie Rules. I’ve played casually ever since.’
‘Your ex is a douche,’ I blurted, unable to stop myself. ‘Wait, is he your ex?’
‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘And you’re right. He is. He broke my heart, but now I’m relieved he moved to Perth and doesn’t seem to remember the girl he spent hours running after in the dark.’
‘How could he forget about you?’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. But as we stood close, closer than two people who just met should, I didn’t regret them. I didn’t regret them at all.
Pink coloured her cheeks, and she flashed me a cheeky grin. ‘Maybe he had one too many knocks to the head too.’
‘Maybe.’
‘But I do love the sport now. And I don’t really regret training with him back then because I never would have felt that rush you get when you play, when it’s just you and the ball and all this energy—’ She shook her head. Her eyes were alive, just like they were back on the field. ‘Do you really think I have a shot at making the women’s league?’
‘Have a shot?’ If only she knew. ‘Darlin’, you don’t just have a shot. I’d say, with a few more training sessions, it’s a certainty.’
I told the little white lie outside the church and tried not to feel bad.
Because that was the kicker.
Zoe didn’t really need my help.
I hadn’t seen the women’s league play, but hell, she’d stand a chance at landing a spot on a men’s team, if things were different.
But I still needed her assistance, and the more I thought about it, the more the idea of taking her to the Player of the Year Awards night was appealing.
‘That’s really cool.’ She looked up at me, smiling. ‘Thank you.’
I looked down at her, those full lips parted once more. I shifted, just the smallest movement, but now we were closer, almost touching. Almost something more.
She licked her lips and I tilted my head. Kissable—I just wanted to see what she’d be like to kiss, and …
‘KILLERS RULE!’ a man’s voice shouted from the window of a passing car.
Just like that, the moment was broken.
Zoe looked down and gave a nervous laugh. I stepped away, running one hand through my hair and taking a long, cold drink that tasted about as shitty as I felt.
I couldn’t kiss Zoe Taylor.
She was moving overseas for work.
She was focused, doing her own thing without help, just like Ava was.
Not willing to meet halfway.
And I was still too broken to let myself get stepped on like that again.
I quickened my pace, and we walked the rest of the way to the car in silence, the soft swish of my jacket the only noise between us.
Chapter 9
Zoe
‘Hey, Emily.’ I smiled brightly as I walked into her room.
‘Zoe!’ Her face lit up, and my heart did that little tightening thing it did whenever I came to see her.
It was silly to get attached to a patient, I knew that, but Emily had come to stay with us three times before, and now she wasn’t just someone who needed my care. Now, she was like a friend.
‘How you feeling today?’ I opened the safe to check the supply of meds, noting down on her chart what’d been taken during the night.
‘’Kay.’
I glanced over my shoulder. Her face was downcast, focused on the white waffle-weave blanket lining the bed.
I looked to Nick, sitting on the couch. He gave a small shake of his head.
Not fine.
Emily had had a bad night.
My heart panged as I looked at the sweet little girl with the sky blue eyes. I want to take all that hurt away for you, little one. I want to stop the cancer from ever coming back again.
I placed the clipboard down and walked to the side of the bed, kneeling beside it so we were face to face, even if she wouldn’t meet my gaze. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling okay?’
She nodded, convincingly, then faltered. Her lower lip wobbled as her nodding stopped. Oh, Emily.
I reached out my hand, placed it over his. ‘Sweetie, it’s okay if you’ve had a bad night. You won’t get into trouble.’
‘Don’t wanna go back.’ Glassy eyes met my own. ‘I don’t wanna go.’
To hospital.
She didn’t want any more treatment.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest. It was the sort of thing I knew I shouldn’t do, but my urge to comfort her, to stop her fear, her sadness, her pain—it was too great.
Nick looked at me over his shoulder, mouthing ‘thank you’. He lost his wife to cancer when Emily was just one—six months later, his daughter had been taken by the same horrid disease. He’d been battling that bastard Fate ever since.
‘I know the chemo sucks, Emily. But you have to go to try and make you big and strong.’ I pulled back. Dark spots from the small girl’s tears dotted my shoulder.
‘No,’ she sniffed, and I took a tissue from the box by the bed and wiped away the sadness from her cheeks.
‘But it’s to help make you healthy. To make your dad happy.’ I smiled over at Nick, and he smiled at his daughter.
‘No.’ Her voice shook.
My heart broke.
She had to go. Richard would make her, she didn’t get to choose in this situation, but it was so hard knowing this child, this baby was being forced to do something that not only did she not want, but that children should never have to do. There wasn’t even a way to sweeten the situation. After the chemo, nausea set in. Ice cream didn’t work as a bribe anymore—not now that Emily knew the churning that would settle over her stomach.
If only there was something …
‘Do you want to read a book together?’ I asked. I was running a few minutes early on my rounds—I could fit one in.
She nodded but didn’t smile. It was going to take more than just Dr Seuss to help pull her out of this funk.
‘Emily, if you go to chemo, I’ll see if I can organise a special surprise for you.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Sawyer. Surely he could help me organise something. He’d been so good with her when he was here earlier in the week.
‘What kind of surprise?’ She blinked up at me. Smart kid.
‘Well, it has something to do with Aussie Rules. But that’s all I’m saying.’ Because that was all I have planned right now, but I’d come up with something. I would.
Emily’s eyes lit up. ‘You tried out for the team?’
I laughed. ‘Not yet, although I am in training.’
‘Tell me,’ Emily said, and for the next fifteen minutes, I did. I told her all about the session I spent with Sawyer, running drills, throwing, tackling. That adrenaline—that feeling of nothing else mattering and of pure and utter release—they were my haven. I couldn’t get enough.
‘You really tackled Sawyer all the way to the ground?’ Emily’s eyes widened.
‘I sure did.’ All the way to the ground. Heat flushed my cheeks. His limbs, tangled with mine. The way his strong muscles curved around me …
I shook the thought away. Not appropriate.
‘And then at the end, we had smoothies with vegetables in them.’ I scrunched up my nose for effect.
Emily laughed. ‘Gross!’
‘They weren’t too bad.’ I nodded sagely. ‘Because sometimes in life, you have to take the good with the bad. You have to take the fun of playing sport with the disgusting taste of a spinach smoothie.’ I glanced over to Nick, and he nodded, go on. ‘You have to take fun things, like hanging out with your dad, like getting a special surprise from me later on—’
‘Watching you play?’ Emily bit her lip.
Somehow, she stole my breath from me again. Tears prickled my eyes. How could this kid be so sweet?
How could this kid be dying?
‘Watching me play,’ I said around the lump in my throat. ‘But with all that good comes
the bad.’
‘Chemo.’ Her little chest fell on an exhale.
I pressed my eyes shut. Don’t cry. ‘Chemo,’ I repeated.
She shuffled off the bed, walking over to her dad and placing that small hand on her father’s leg. ‘Okay, Dad.’
‘Okay?’ Nick asked.
‘I’m ready,’ Emily replied.
She’s ready.
I finished my round, restocking supplies and checking her dressing before bolting out into the hall, my heart aching.
Emily might have been ready, but I was not.
I wasn’t ready to send her to a place that would only result in pain.
And yet, half an hour later, I entered her room with the wheelchair and helped Nick take her over to the oncology wing, where her little body trembled but her lower lip remained stoic.
She was ready.
I was not.
***
I sank onto the comfy blue couch in the loft apartment Tahlia and I shared. My body relaxed into the soft material, and I groan, aching from running drills all afternoon, this time without Sawyer. I could barely move.
‘You want a peppermint tea?’ Tahlia called as she flicked on the kettle.
‘Please.’
The cupboards thunked open and shut as she moved about. I stretched an arm to reach for the TV remote, and a twinge of pain shot through it. Why was I doing this? This plan seemed crazy, especially when I was going overseas.
Worse, that nasty taste of leading people on, of guilt, soured my mouth.
‘What’s up?’ Tahlia placed the tea down on the coffee table in front of me, sitting on the couch opposite with her own mug clasped in her hands.
I huffed out a breath. ‘Just this whole football thing.’ I waved my hand dismissively. ‘Sawyer thinks I’m actually in with a shot of making the team.’
‘No surprises there.’ She took a sip, wincing and fanning her mouth straight after. ‘Ow! But seriously, I’ve seen your team play. They’re all good, but you … you’ve got something else, you know? When you get out on the field, something changes within you. I see it. Sawyer sees it.’
Sawyer sees it. I loved how that sounded.
A Whole New Ball Game Page 4
