Page 79 of Game on, Love

We stayed like that for a while, drowning in the presence of each other. I needed the silence more than the words, and she understood that without me having to say it.

“What happened after the accident?”

“I managed to get out with a couple of fractures and bruises. I had my gear and it was only just a skid and slide. My injuries meant I could no longer tour with the team and make my debut, but my recovery is what set them back. I’d taken a long time to digest the news, but when Sean—my agent, got the whispers of the selectors monitoring my data during the last few matches of the County Championship, he went around me to my Dad to arrange this unofficial selectors match.”

She tugged on her lower lip before asking. “Have you driven a bike since?”

I shook my head. “I think my Mum would actually disown me if I touch a bike again.”

A pained laugh left her lips because, from one interaction, she’d realised that I wasn’t kidding, though it was mixed with asense of relief. “We’ll just have to find you something else that makes you feel like that.”

I already have.

But I didn’t say that as she watched me with an unspoken question.

“What?” I asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Are you not happy that your agent did that?”

I paused. “I’m notnothappy… It’s just that I didn’t earn it.”

“Yes, you did,” She frowned. “You said it yourself that they had been monitoring your stats, and you have an amazing career behind you to prove that you are talented. Sure, the match itself is an exception but did they promise you a place in the squad? No. They’re giving you a fair chance to show your skills. Plus, you were already selected by them once—so even if it’s ‘unauthorised’, they’re allowed to treat you differently because you are, but your last name doesn’t have anything to do with that.”

Everything in me stilled, and I felt my chest crack wide open before it was filled with a feeling I couldn’t explain as I stared at her. I had never felt it before, had never known what it was like to be slowly consumed by it. But now that I had felt it—felt it for her—I never wanted to go without it.

24

Oliver

THE LIGHTS IN THEtheatre dimmed as the ads flashed on the big screen, and I glanced at Raina. She was sitting in her chair, leaning backwards as though trying to relax, but as my gaze travelled to her hands and the way she played with the edges of her sleeves, it told me all that I needed to know. Without a second thought, I leaned across the arm between us and covered her hand.

While her brothers did their horror night, we’d decided to spend the day away from the house. It wasn’t anything new, really. I had done the same ever since I had learnt about their tradition. It wasn’t like I wasn’t a fan of psychological thrillers; I just didn’t understand the need to do a day's worth of marathon. I may have grown up in the city, but the summers were still very much spent at our family house in the countryside, and when it’s pitch black, and all you can see out your window is darkness… you learned to avoid a thing or two to save your peace.

So, I’d spent most of my day in training and doing more media bits, while Raina had spent the day at a shoot for her pre-race show. I didn’t particularly have any plans for the evening, so when she suggested tagging along with her to a documentary screening of all places, I said yes.

She had invited me, thinking as it would keep us out of the house, while also ticking one of her own things on her list, seeing it was a cricket documentary, but as we walked in, the staff behind the counter recognised me—as a customer—and Raina; we’d realised that we were both regulars at the same theatre and had been coming here for years. And just like that, it was another thing that tied us together.

She tapped the back of my hand, which was now nestled between both of her hands, her narrow gaze fixed on the screen. I tightened my hold before dipping my head near her ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Nothing,” She leaned away and met my eyes. “Why?”

“You’re anxious. I want to know why.”

She tugged on her bottom lip before replying. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Why?” I couldn’t help but frown; coming here washeridea.

She hesitated, unsure of how to explain.

“We can go if you want, but I also want to know what’s wrong.”

She sighed before speaking. “When we were entering, I saw a different poster than I did when I looked it up.”

“Okay…”

“Your dad is in the documentary.”

A slow breath released from my lungs. “I know.”