“Rugby’s pretty dangerous. Especially without helmets and stuff.”
“We’re just throwing the ball around. It’s only touch rugby at his school. There’ll be no need for helmets…and stuff. But we don’t use those things in our sport anyway.”
“Right. Well, I understand you know a lot about rugby, so…thanks again.”
Mano nodded, his legs apart, and his arms still crossed. Brandon walked back to the car without turning back. He glanced briefly at the Yuans’ house before smiling at the boys still inside the car. A few minutes later, Matthew was on the sidewalk by himself, waving at Aidan as the car left the cul-de-sac.
Mano leaned against his doorframe as the sports car drove away.
“Brandon’s a good dad,” Mrs. Henderson’s unexpected voice surprised him. He’d forgotten she was still in his backyard.
“I’m sure he is,” he said.
“Always on time when it’s his weekend. He may live in the city, but he’s made an effort to get to know everyone who has contact with his son. Behind that TV-smile, he’s protective of Aidan. I’d better be going. Trying a new banana bread recipe. With oats. I’ll leave you a loaf tomorrow.”
“You don’t have too….”
She dismissed his protest with a flick of a hand as she walked toward her home. TV-Smile? Dead on the money, Mrs. Henderson. Maybe you are some sort of spy.
Despite the friendly demeanor, Mano sensed Brandon didn’t trust him. Not that he could blame the man. It was the right thing to do. After all, he was still practically a stranger. He shut the door and increased the volume of the music from the turntable before moving to the kitchen. His landlord left a healthy collection of vinyl for him to explore, and he was currently getting to know Ella Fitzgerald. Her sultry voice filled the house without interruption. He turned on the electric kettle and reached inside the refrigerator for a box of cold cuts, tomatoes, and lettuce.
He wondered at Brandon’s surprise when he referred to Eden as a competitive swimmer. Maybe Brandon wasn’t privy to Eden’s goal of qualifying for Nationals. As a medalist from the Summer Games, Brandon could help his son’s mother. He was obviously doing well professionally and financially; he would understand the commitment it’d take to swim at the top level.
Assuming Eden said something.
Bet she didn’t.
Mano reached for a knife and cutting board then began slicing the tomatoes as he stifled a yawn.
Last night he had been troubled with memories he was supposed to bury. He ended his misery by leaving bed and going for a run. Early light, crisp air, and running at a pace he hadn’t pushed himself to since Ahipara, he had begun to clear his mind when he saw Eden emerge from the car driven by that slick-looking fella, Jordan Kennedy.
Jackson didn’t like him.
Neither did Tom Morris.
Mano frowned as he layered the sliced bread with the turkey and cheese.
She had walked away after their kiss. Didn’t give him a second look. Just left him to the stares and smiles of Patty, Matthew, and Mrs. Henderson, who gave him not one but two thumbs-up when he walked past her house.
One kiss didn’t give him the right to feel anything at the sight of Jordan Kennedy checking out Eden Pak. But he did.
“Bet he’s just a little bastard. No one is that perfect,” Mano muttered.
A buzzing interrupted his thoughts. He automatically felt for his phone in the pocket of his sweatshirt. Still there. He followed the continuous sound to the sofa, feeling behind the cushions. Nothing. On his knees, he leaned his torso toward the ground. Partially hidden by the leg of the sofa lay a black phone. He reached for it.
* * *
Mom: Call me when you reach your dad’s. Don’t forget to thank Mrs. Yuan. Love you.
* * *
Aiden must have dropped it when he rushed out.
Mano tapped to reply, but the screen now requested a passcode.
He could leave it for Eden at the office on Monday, but a counter from an unwelcome voice said she’d be worried if she didn’t see a message from Aidan when she next checked her phone.
Stay away.
You want to see her.
Make one friend.
She’d be at the gym. Every Friday afternoon, from four to six o’clock. He had seen her once when he was still familiarizing himself with the campus. She didn’t see him though, so focused she was on her own sets, lost in whatever it was she heard through her earbuds.
Make one friend.
Mano nodded at Mrs. Henderson, seated, as usual at this hour, in her armchair facing the window. Carolyn sat next to her, a book on her lap, probably reading aloud. They did that every afternoon until Carolyn’s parents came. Mrs. Henderson swore it was the only way for her to keep up with book club with her eyesight failing; Patty said it was one way to help Carolyn practice her reading without eroding the teenager’s confidence.
The trail to St. Anne’s was busy for a Friday night. Soccer season began tonight. Both the men’s and women’s teams were ranked in the top ten nationally. He learned quickly how much the local community embraced the college and its sports. He’d snuck into a preseason basketball game one night—a game that technically meant nothing other than bragging rights against a local rival—and was surprised at the number of families with young children in the stands, filling almost a third of the arena. Tonight, a steady stream of people walked to and from the stadium.
Twenty minutes later, he looked through the glass doors of the college gym. He scanned the front half of the area but couldn’t see Eden among the exercise machines. He pressed his faculty card against the sensor then walked in. He nodded at Professor Fisher, red-faced on the treadmill. After passing a wall of bands and ropes, he found Eden in the weight room, 15-pound dumbbells in each hand. She studied her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror as she performed another set of curls. The delicate sheen on her well-toned back suggested she had been here longer than he thought.
Her eyes widened when she saw him in the mirror. She turned swiftly, pulling the earbuds out. “Is Aidan okay?”
He nodded and held out the black phone. “He forgot it.”
Her body relaxed as she smiled. She reached for the phone, an eyebrow arching. “I bet he hasn’t realized it’s missing yet. If there’s anything that’ll make Aidan forget about his phone, it’s whatever new gadget Brandon bought this week.”
“Brandon came in a new car.”
Eden laughed softly. “I’ll bet you ten bucks they’re both sitting in the garage just pressing buttons as we speak.”
What made him push back loose hair and tuck it behind the ear she favored to touch whenever she was nervous or in deep thought, he’d never know. But she stopped laughing immediately; her lips parted at the unexpected gesture. She met his gaze briefly but turned too quickly for him to guess what she thought of his spontaneous act.
“Sorry,” he said. Though he wasn’t.
“No, it’s fine.” She rushed her hand through the top of her hair. “I’ve never been able to tame my hair. This is the one haircut that keeps it reasonably neat.”
“It suits you.”
“Thanks.” She threw a towel over her shoulder. The erratic pulse visible on her neck was intriguing. “Were you coming to work out?”
He dragged his attention back to Eden’s flushed face. “No. The team has an early start at Cal tomorrow. I need to spend the night going over the playbook.”
“Oh! You should have called about the phone. I would have swung by to pick it up. Thanks!”
“Nice night out. Didn’t mind the walk.”
“I’m done here. If you’d like some company, let me walk with you.”
He’d averted his eyes as she bent over, so he missed seeing how she ended up on the floor. Only heard the loud yell followed by a string of expletives he hadn’t expected to come out of Eden Pak.
Instincts kicked in. “Help over here!”
He knelt next to Eden, now hunched over and grabbing he
r ankle.
She groaned. “It seems you and I are doomed, Mano. Do you realize one of us falls flat on our face whenever we meet?”
“We didn’t last time,” he said, reaching around her waist. She instinctively wrapped her arm around his shoulder, leaning on him as she tried to get up. She was still damp from her workout, hair plastered from sweat, but he caught a whiff of gardenias.
“No, we didn’t,” she whispered.
He felt her tremble slightly, a soft pink spreading up her neck. Her lips parted, and the memory of what they tasted like teased him.
“Hey, Mano. Eden. What’s going on?”
Eden’s face went red at the intrusion. Mano bit back what he really wanted to say. He inhaled deeply, reminding himself that Eden was hurt. “Taylor, good to see you, mate. She fell. It’s the ankle, I think.”
“Let me take a look. Eden, can you get to the bench? Mano, would you mind getting some ice?”
When he returned, Eden was seated on the floor, one leg resting on Taylor’s knee. Mano handed the bag of ice to Taylor immediately.
“I don’t think it’s a break, Eden, but it could be a pretty bad sprain,” Taylor said apologetically. “Ice it for ten minutes. I’ll come back to wrap it. You’ll have a better idea of how bad it is tomorrow. But you know the drill: rest, ice, elevate, and keep it wrapped up. Are you still living at the Atria? I’ll give Campus Safety a call. I’m sure we have a golf cart that can get you back home.”
“It’s okay,” Eden emphasized. “I’ll walk. Campus Safety will have their hands full with the games on tonight.”
“I wouldn’t recommend—”
Eden raised her chin. “I’ll walk. It’ll be fine.”
Taylor raised his eyebrows, a soft smile softening the weight of his words. “The faculty newsletter said you’re trying to qualify for Nationals at the next meet. Isn’t that in a month? You might want to reconsider that decision.”
“I never pegged you for being an asshole, Taylor,” she said sarcastically.
“Sometimes the job calls for it,” Taylor replied, grinning as he stood up. “Don’t you live on the fourth floor?”
Her face turned white. “I’ll manage.”
Taylor sighed. “You can barely put weight on it.”
“I’ll help her,” Mano said.
Eden shook her head. “I can take care of myself.”
“You falling on your face on my watch obligates me morally to make sure you’re okay.”
Eden’s eyes narrowed. “That’s from my book of morals, remember. Not yours.”
“When you visit a country, you follow their rules.”
She lost the battle to suppress a smile, her eyes mirroring her amusement. The world suddenly disappeared from around them. She didn’t hide that she liked him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge, with that gift of trust.
Taylor cleared his throat; his grin suggested he knew something was going on between them. “Looks like you’re in good hands, Eden. Ice it when you get home, okay? I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
Mano extended his hand to Eden, a repeat offer from a few nights ago. This time, she took it, wincing as she tried to stand evenly on both feet. “Humor me. Let’s take the lift from Campus Safety.”
“This isn’t happening,” she mumbled.
She didn’t argue when he joined her in the golf cart. She remained quiet during the short ride to the Atria, her foot elevated in the back while he sat in the front. Ten minutes later, they stood side by side, eyeing the stairwell that would take her home.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she said, ignoring the offer of his arm as support.
He followed her, staying a step behind. Determination etched on her face as she began the slow ascent. She didn’t complain, and he bit back the warning to take it slow. She had been the face of welcome, the smile of assurance, the voice of comfort and care. But right now, there were no smiles. Just a grim determination he was used to seeing in competition.
She worked in silence, one step at a time, an uneven pace, a slight pause before she pressed on the bare toes of the swollen foot. He understood this absence of noise, borne out of focus, and maintained for persistence. He didn’t offer any help until he saw trembling hands when she took a break on the third floor. He decided he’d take the risk of her wrath.
The tearstained face that greeted him was like a kick in the gut. She looked resigned.
“I can carry you the rest of the way,” he offered.
She wiped her eyes, lifted her chin, and—to his relief—nodded. He reached under her easily, her body filling his arms.
An hour later, he stared at her sleeping figure on the sofa. He had ducked into the kitchen, finding a packet of ramen in the small cupboard above the refrigerator. It was supposed to be a quick fix.
It wasn’t quick enough.
He put the still-steaming bowl of noodles on the small dining set, glancing around the tiny but meticulous living area. He eventually found a throw in what he assumed was Eden’s bedroom, elevating her leg further on a pillow when he covered the rest of her. His hand hovered over her cheek, slightly dampened from silent tears that had continued long after they had entered her apartment. But he pulled back before he could wipe them away. It wasn’t his place.
Instinctively, he knew she hadn’t cried because of the physical pain. That kind of pain was just part of the lifestyle of any topflight athlete. No, the tears flowed for something else.
She grimaced at the unknown restriction to movement then opened her eyes to the dark gray cushions of her sofa. Leaning on her side, Eden’s eyes widened at the view of the large body lying on the floor. She recognized the light blue pillowcase from her bedroom, the one nod to comfort. Face up, hands crossed over his stomach, Mano’s stillness mirrored the effigies placed on tombs of knights and kings.
Why didn’t he go home?
Eden eyed the silhouette of her foot, still wrapped up. Flexing her toes, she began to rotate her ankle slowly. It was tight but not the searing pain of just a few hours ago. The weight of fear lifted slightly. The true test would be when she tried to walk on it.
The sofa creaked as she sat up, but Mano barely moved. She reached for her phone on the nearby coffee table.
Just past midnight.
Two missed calls followed by a text message from Brandon, sent at nine.
* * *
Brandon: Aidan couldn’t find his phone. Tried calling. Will call tomorrow AM. He says good night
.
* * *
She almost dropped her phone when Mano sat up suddenly, his gasp sharp and loud in the quiet of the dark. His hands went sharply to his head, scratching wildly into his hair, as if frustrated. He scrambled onto his knees, moving in a stealth-like, determined manner to the balcony door. She heard, rather than saw, the desperation in which he pulled at the blinds and wrestled with the lock.
She hobbled cautiously, her thoughts no longer on her injury but on the figure now hunched over her balcony.
“Mano?”
His head hid in his hands. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I was up.”
He had stayed when he could have left.
So, she stayed. Next to him, close but not touching. They may have shared a kiss, but a barrier remained, one that prevented her from doing more than just being there. Would it be enough?
Voices carried in the trail below, students still meandering to and from the college campus on a Friday evening, but his ragged breathing silenced the questions of concern that were at the tip of her tongue. The irregular sounds slowly gave way to a calmer rhythm.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked, his voice still distant.
“Not as bad as earlier.” She paused. “How are you?”
“Better than a few minutes ago.”
“These nightmares? They happen often, don’t they?”
He hesitated to respond; his face still hidden. “I don’t sleep well o
n most days.”
She couldn’t help it. He probably thought she was “mothering” again, but she had to offer some type of comfort. She never had the right words.
Just light rubs up and down a hard back. He stiffened initially but didn’t move away.
“Why did you kiss me?” he asked.
She smiled. “No real reason other than I wanted to.”
“You don’t want to get close to me, Eden. I’m not good that way.”
“I think you’re a good man.”
He bent his head as if in resignation before facing her. “You’re the type of woman who deserves better.”
Eden laughed softly. “Mano, it was a little kiss. I’m not asking for forever.”
“You should, but not from me.” He paused then spoke hesitantly. “I promised that once to someone else.”
“Is she still in the picture?”
“No,” he said immediately.
“But she’s still in your heart.” She moved her hand from his back, down his arm, and into a rough hand, squeezing it. “I’ve been in love before and had my heart broken. I can take the fact that you still love someone else without bursting into tears.” He smiled at that, and she grew braver. “Let’s be friends. Real friends. Talk to me. If it’s a bad night, I’m here.”
He stared. “But we kissed.”
“Aren’t you friends with the people you’ve kissed?”
He gave a little laugh. “I have to admit I haven’t kissed many of my friends.”
She raised her head, her voice teasing. “Then, I’m honored to be your first.”
He left an hour later, refusing her offer for him to use Aidan’s bed. She assured him she was fine. Her father would be there in the morning and would check the sprain.
When she reached for a hug, he returned it. He pushed her hair back behind her ear, an instant warmth flooding her face at his slight touch.
“I don’t know how good a friend I’ll be to you, Eden Pak,” he said. “But I’ll give it a go if you will.”
Always and Forever: Rugby Brothers, Book 3 Page 11
