Page 16 of Game on, Love
I leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms. “What are you working on?”
Her eyes flickered to me briefly before dropping back to her laptop. “Just notes for work before I leave tomorrow.”
She flipped between pages, chewing on her bottom lip, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was in work mode, and clearly, she was used to tuning out people.
I considered leaving her to it, but then she finished whatever she was writing and looked back at me. Apparently, it was all that I needed to invite myself into her space.
I walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, keeping a respectful distance. “What do you do, exactly?”
Raina tugged on her lower lip, like she was unsure how much to share. “I’m a sports journalist.”
“No kidding?” I don’t think I could’ve hidden my surprise even if I had tried. She worked in sports, and her brothers hadn’t mention it once. She gave me a small nod, and a strange feeling ran through my chest. “Independent, or are you with a network?”
“A mix of the two. I work full-time at NexGen, but I have my own channels that I post on, and it’s my own work.”
I was impressed. NexGen was a huge network, and anyone who worked in sports journalism aimed to end up there. “How come I’ve never seen you at one of our matches then? NexGen holds the exclusive rights to our games and the first post-match interview.”
She hesitated for a beat, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I only cover Formula One and, occasionally, Wimbledon.”
I tilted my head, confused. “That’s… specific.”
She shrugged, her voice a little guarded. “What can I say? I like high-speed thrills and quick serves.”
“As opposed to… the graceful strokes and strategic plays in cricket?” I couldn’t help it. I was offended, and I didn’t try to hide it.
“Meh,” She lifted one shoulder as if unbothered. “Tennis covers the graceful strokes part, and Formula One covers strategy.”
I frowned, trying to read her expressions, which told me only one thing. She wasn’t trying to poke at me; she was being serious.
“You don’t like cricket?” I tried again. “How can you not like cricket?”
I was aware of how ridiculous I sounded; I just didn’t care.
She forced a laugh, shaking her head. “I don’tcareabout cricket.”
That was almost worse. “Why not?”
I knew she hadn’t intended it to be malicious, but her words felt like a jab at something I loved, something I deeply connected to. Something I thought she would, too, considering her brother and dad were also cricketers.
It was as if a light bulb with a broken wired system turned on in my head. Just a couple of seconds too late, but frankly, I was glad it did either way.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I said softly. But she already had a distant look in her eyes, the one that went as quickly as it came. And when she looked back at me, I realised she hadn’t intended for me to see it.
“What about you? What made you get into cricket?”
The question caught me off guard, and not just because it was such a simple one. But her tone was genuine like she truly didn’t know.
For a moment, it unsettled me. People alwaysknew.Hell, I couldn’t even step into a pub without being recognised. But here she was, living under the same roof, completely unaware of thepeople I was connected to. Maybe it was the fact that her family ties were as jumbled as mine, and pieces of it were woven into the same clothes… but oddly enough, that ignorance excited me.
“Well,” I began, “My family’s been in cricket forever. My dad, his dad and his dad—my great-granddad—were all professional cricketers. My Mum comes from a sports family, too.”
“So, you followed the tradition?” Raina asked, though there wasn’t a hint of judgement in her voice.
“Not out of obligation, but pretty much. I grew up around cricket. It just felt… right. I love every second of it,” I added, though I wasn’t sure why there was a sudden ache in my chest at the admission.
She nodded but didn’t press further, her expression neutral like she was absorbing the information but not filing it away for anything significant.
I wasn’t used to that.