Long Game

Home > Young Adult > Long Game > Page 12
Long Game Page 12

by Catherine Evans


  People around them cheered, Cress was still laughing and encouraging, so Quin kept going, skimming his hands down the curves of Cress’s body as the music spoke to him. It wasn’t as if he was touching her yet his hands tingled as if the air between his hands and her body was supercharged. When he was on his haunches, his hands just below her hips, a cheer went up and he worked his way back up her body; and as he moved his fingertips, he brushed the heated bare flesh over her ribs.

  His hands closed on her and they moved together as his palms skimmed up her naked back and arms, slowly but not quite slowly enough. He’d touched her before, a hundred million times, but never like this. It scrambled every thought. And when their fingers connected above her head, and Cress threw her head back laughing and cheering with everyone else, her whole body slid against his. Awareness. Like lightning.

  A chant went up. ‘Cress. Cress. Cress. Cress.’ It was the same as the chant in his head. He didn’t quite understand until her body moved against his and her hands trailed over his arms. She was going to do the same as he had.

  Oh boy.

  He didn’t know … he wasn’t sure. She’d be …

  No. Not thinking that.

  He writhed to the beat and as part of his moves, he turned a little each time so that by the time Cress was on her haunches, he was looking out at the crowd and dancing like a madman. His overly sensitive body knew exactly where Cress was, exactly where her hands were, and exactly how slowly she was doing this. And if the mischievous look Petra was giving him was any indication, someone else knew exactly how much this was affecting him.

  He caught Cress’s hand when she’d reached his and spun her beneath their outstretched arms. ‘I need a drink.’

  ‘This dancing’s hot work.’ Cress grinned wickedly. She also knew exactly how much that had affected him. He just wasn’t sure that either of them would risk taking it further. She’d been pretty clear that she was here for football and nothing else. Besides, she was going home in a matter of weeks, committed to footy there, and he was committed to footy here.

  They both got water and drank before getting a refill and moving to a quiet corner.

  ‘I didn’t know you could dance like that, Watercress.’

  Her grin was part imp, part cat-who-ate-the-canary. ‘I don’t often cut loose, but when I do, watch out.’ They both laughed. She was putting their friendship back in place with one of her usual quips, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to tuck it away. Then she leaned forward. ‘Maybe you might be kind enough not to mention that to any of my brothers.’

  He choked on his water. ‘Watercress, believe me, that’s not something I’d be telling your brothers. Any of them.’ When a blush stole up her already-coloured cheeks, he added his own friendship quip. Mentioning her family quickly brought him back to reality. ‘What happens on the footy trip stays on the footy trip.’ He winked.

  It had the desired effect and they were both laughing as they cooled down and rehydrated.

  The rest of the night was friendship and fun, until the taxi ride home. Cress curled against his chest and dropped asleep within seconds of climbing into the cab. He slid his arms around her, and stroked her face with the edge of his thumb. A sense of rightness settled over him.

  And then they were home. The stopping of the cab woke her and she was out of the car and opening the front door before he’d finished paying the taxi driver. It was the first time he wished he lived miles away from the club grounds.

  ***

  ‘Don’t let the nerves take all your energy, Watercress.’ Quin was becoming more concerned each day before the opening game. Cress was bouncing with excitement, and although he loved seeing her alive like this, he worried that she’d burn too much energy and not have enough for game day.

  ‘Not sure I’ve much choice.’ Her leg jittered even as they ate dinner.

  ‘Use the yoga breathing, or a pose, or some form of exercise or mindfulness, to find a way to calm. You won’t be able to sleep properly if you’re this wound-up.’

  ‘Yep. Got that not sleeping thing already.’

  ‘After dinner, let’s go kick the footy.’

  She stared at him. ‘Kick the footy? It’s almost dark.’

  He shrugged. ‘You used to do that as a kid. It always calmed you then, even if it was dark.’

  Her lips twitched and the corners lifted slightly. Her gaze when it met his was shiny and laughing. She gave a sharp nod, and didn’t say another word until they were on their way to the oval. All she said then was, ‘Thank you.’

  For about forty-five minutes, they drop-punted the footy to each other. At first it was fast and frantic, but as the minutes went by, the kicks became more relaxed, better targeted so neither of them had to run, or even move.

  Cress stood her ground and fielded his kick, but rather than return it she walked towards him. Standing in front of him, she looked up, her head shaking slowly.

  ‘Quin Fitzpatrick, you are a genius.’ She stood on tiptoes, leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his cheek. ‘I forgot how much that soothes me.’

  He reached out and cupped the side of her face, stroking his thumb across her cheekbone in the barest hint of a touch. ‘We’ll do it each night if you need to.’

  ‘Yes, please.’ They matched strides as they headed for home, and Quin wasn’t sure if they’d done that subconsciously or if she’d made it happen. He was pretty sure he hadn’t made a decision to slow his steps to hers. ‘You remember so much from when we were kids.’

  He gave a nod. ‘They were the best days.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Fun. Carefree. We didn’t know how good it was.’ He took a long breath. ‘I mean, I knew it was good. I loved it. But adulting is kind of hard work.’

  Cress gave a huff of a laugh. ‘Yeah. I get what you mean.’ They walked a bit further before she said, ‘All those old guys who said stuff like, “enjoy it while you can, kids,” really knew what they were talking about, even though we thought they were mad.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Back in the house, he poured them both water as they stretched in the kitchen. ‘I’d lost my love of the game, you know.’ Why he told her that now he couldn’t say, but he’d never been this open with anyone and it felt good and easy just to say things openly, knowing she would understand. She was relaxed, open and the best friend he had—not that he’d tell Tris that.

  ‘You had?’ Cress sounded more puzzled than surprised, with all her emphasis on the word ‘you’.

  ‘Having you here, it’s been good.’ She waited as if expecting him to say more. He wasn’t sure what else to say. ‘You’ve got this exuberance for the game, the skills, the fun. I think I’ve been lost in the statistics, the demands, the way it’s become a job.’

  She slid her hand over his and without saying a word, he knew she understood. Her fingers moved against his, catching them and releasing them. He studied the differences in their fingers, their hands, as he brushed the pad of his thumb against the tops of her fingers as they came near. Her hand was more tanned, his larger, stronger and rougher. The tangle of fingers hit him hard, somewhere in his midsection. He caught her fingers between his and stopped their movement. He held her hand for long moments before he released it and pulled his away.

  ‘Think you’ll be able to sleep, Watercress?’

  She nodded and although he thought he might reach out and tousle her head, he kept his hands away from her.

  He sat at the table after she’d gone, and wrapped his hands around the water glass. Their friendship was almost as old as he could remember, and yet it seemed to become deeper, stronger, with every passing day. And now an awareness buzzed beneath the bonds of friendship and he wasn’t sure about that. It seemed he and Watercress were tangled together in something he couldn’t fathom, and something destined to never work.

  In a matter of weeks she’d be in Grong Grong, and he’d still be here, alone.

  Chapter 15

  ‘I’ve never been like this.’ W
hy she was so ridiculously nervous she couldn’t explain. She’d been away for footy before; it wasn’t like this was her first trip.

  He brushed the back of her neck with his warm fingers before sliding his palm across her nape. At his touch, her nerves seemed to settle and focus just on him, his hands, his light touch. ‘It’s just another game of footy.’

  She laughed. It was so much more than that.

  ‘You’ve worked hard for this. All of you. Weeks and weeks of building this team and getting your fitness right for the intensity of this competition. Don’t sell yourself short. And don’t discount the work everyone else has put in either.’

  That’s what she needed. To focus on the work. Not only her own but that of the team, the coaching staff, the other people behind the scenes. She drew in a deep breath, dropped her head forwards and revelled in the way his fingers seemed to spear along those points in her neck that were tightest, loosening them as his fingers made their way onto her scalp. ‘Thanks. That’s exactly what I needed. Thank you.’

  Quin’s fingers gave one squeeze of her nape before his hands disappeared. A large part of her wanted to ask him to keep touching her, but she couldn’t.

  She scrubbed her face with the flats of her hands. Hard. Trying to draw her mind away from Quin. And her. Quin with her. That was for after the season, if it was ever to be.

  ‘I have to get going.’ She grabbed for her bag, but he stopped her by clasping her wrist and then pulling her against his chest and holding tight. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on to him. They wouldn’t get to do this anywhere else. Inhaling deeply, as they held each other close, felt right. Very right. Quin’s scent settled inside and calmed her. She needed to bottle him.

  ‘If you get jittery, call. Any time. I can talk, or come and kick a footy, or do yoga.’

  He knew her a little too well. She gave his body a big squeeze. ‘Thank you. I should be right, believe it or not, but I promise I’ll call if I’m not.’ She’d survived trips away and big games a few times before, but nothing like this. The last week she’d been like a cat on a hot tin roof and without Quin, she wasn’t sure she would have coped with her frazzled nerves and adrenaline spikes.

  He’d calmed her, settled her, helped her find her peace. They’d spent so much time together, there was hardly anything they hadn’t shared. Well, except for the elephant that was always in the room—her stupid addiction to him. She wasn’t sharing that any time soon because it would ruin the fantastic friendship they had. She’d never had a friend who understood her so well.

  When he brushed the top of her head, with what she’d like to think was a kiss, she knew she had to step away from him. She needed to focus on the football game, not Quin … and this was exactly why she couldn’t risk mixing football with any idea of a relationship. Heck, friendship was difficult enough to manage. She had no idea how she was going to walk away from this in a few weeks’ time—but that wasn’t something to think of today. Today was getting to Melbourne and representing the Sydney Sirens with every bit of her focus.

  Drawing in a huge, deep breath, she reached down to grasp her bag. ‘Thanks, Quin, for everything.’ She steeled herself as she stood and managed to look him right in the eye and smile.

  ‘Enjoy it, Watercress. Soak it in. You only play your first game once.’ Didn’t his words bring the fizz right back into her belly.

  She grinned, then laughed and high-fived him. He held the door as she walked through, just as Mattie pulled up. Cress headed straight to the car. The boot popped and Cress threw in her bag. With a last wave to Quin, she jumped into the back seat. ‘Thanks for stopping for me.’

  Mattie laughed. ‘It kills us to stop these moments and pick you up as we drive past your place.’

  Cress scrunched her nose and poked her tongue out. One last wave to Quin and she was focusing on the Sirens, exactly as she had to.

  The vibe in the car park was electric. There were players and coaches, management and staff, family members and a scattering of fans dressed in Siren colours.

  ‘We have fans?’ Cress muttered as she walked up to Petra.

  ‘I know. And I think they’re real.’

  Cress stared at her. ‘As opposed to what, cardboard cut-outs?’

  Petra laughed. ‘No. As opposed to people paid by the management to cheer us on, be our crowd.’

  ‘Oh.’ Cress hadn’t even contemplated management paying people to cheer for them. She’d played in front of a handful of people for most of her life, she didn’t expect a big crowd, much less expect someone to pay to create a crowd.

  ‘They’re saying there’s going to be a big crowd in Melbourne.’ Kirstin joined them bursting with her usual enthusiasm.

  ‘I heard it was almost sold out,’ Geral added.

  ‘What is?’ Cress peered at Geral who also looked like she was about to burst into a dance. Geral didn’t usually look overly enthusiastic. She looked like energy was hard to come by. Not that she shirked anything. Geral went at everything full on. It was just that usually she wasn’t lit from inside like Kirstin was.

  ‘Our game.’ Geral gave Cress a smack across the shoulder. ‘Are you not with us, Grong Grong chick?’ Then she became serious. ‘You have flown before, haven’t you? You’re not afraid of flying, are you? And Melbourne, have you been there before? Oh, I didn’t think to ask you. You’re probably terrified—’ Cress held up her hand and Geral’s panic halted.

  ‘I’m not from the ark. I’ve been on a plane, and I’ve been to Melbourne. I’m just trying to be chill.’

  ‘I can’t chill. I feel like I’m going to burst.’ Geral bounced on her feet, her legs moving as if she was dancing.

  Petra took a hold of Geral’s wrist and drew her slightly away from the bus. ‘Maybe bounce with Kirstin and me. We’re not chilling at all.’

  ‘Oh, right, good. Let’s party.’ Geral grabbed Kirstin’s arm and the three of them strode off to somewhere further away from Cress.

  A huge sigh escaped her.

  ‘You okay?’ Jolene stood beside her, a frown on her face.

  ‘Yes, thanks. I’m trying not to burn up energy.’

  ‘Good plan. If you can get that message out to some of the other girls, it’d help. Tomorrow I’m planning on a team walk, a few light activities to help get people to relax, but if you could lay a bit of groundwork, that’d be good.’

  Cress nodded, even though she wasn’t sure how she could do that. She didn’t even know how she’d done it. It was when Quin kicked the footy with her—and they could hardly do that on the bus or plane. It happened too when he’d taken the focus off her, and put it on the whole club.

  She wandered about until she found Petra, Kirstin and Geral, who were still buzzing on adrenaline. They glanced at her and she gave a flutter of her hand. ‘Can I run something by you guys?’

  ‘Sure.’ Petra spoke but the others nodded and watched Cress closely.

  ‘Quin told me I had to focus on the work we’d done, the prep we’ve had, and know that we’ve put in the hard work. But he also said that it wasn’t just me, there was coaching staff, physios, all the health staff, management, everyone in the Sirens who’d put in a heap of work to get us to this point. And if I think more, there have been women for years lobbying for equality in sport. Wanting to be able to play games that have traditionally been men-only games. So the preparation’s been done. The hard work’s over. Now it’s time to seize hold, grab that ball, and play our hearts out.’ Cress clenched her fist and tapped it against her chest. ‘Does that do something to you, in here, or am I mad?’

  As she’d spoken, the girls’ eyes had widened, their bodies had stilled, and their fists closed. They stood poised for a moment after her words, and then one by one, they followed her action tapping their hearts with closed fists.

  ‘It hits me here,’ Geral said. ‘Chokes me up.’ She turned her head and gave her body a shake.

  ‘It’s more than me,’ Kirstin hugged herself. ‘I’m part of something h
uge, but I’m a small part.’

  ‘And I have my job to do. Just my job. Yeah. It does something, Cress.’ Petra grabbed Cress’s hand and squeezed. ‘It grounds me. Makes me focus on how important my role is, but also how small I am in the whole scheme of things.’

  ‘He’s good.’ Geral shook her head and laid her hand on Cress’s shoulder. ‘If you don’t claim him as your own, I’m seriously going after him.’ Her grin was all tease.

  Kirstin laughed. ‘You’ll have to line up. You’ve gotta fight Hayley off first. She declared dibs that first yoga class.’

  Cress burst into laughter. ‘You guys. Seriously.’ She rolled her eyes and huffed at them.

  The bus horn honking brought them all to attention. ‘Let’s go.’ Petra led the charge, and they moved towards the bus at a gait faster than a walk but not quite a sprint.

  ***

  Melbourne was amazing—not just the city itself, but the whole trip. The team were excited but contained, until the people on the plane gave them a cheer. Cress couldn’t believe it when an older lady called her name. Cress gasped, gulped, and swooped down to hug them. The ladies from the Bridge Climb, who had to be closer to eighty than seventy, had started up the cheer for the Sirens, which got picked up by those around and ended up with a huge round of applause.

  ‘We know it might be silly, dear, but we wanted to be there for the first game and to see you play.’

  Cress blinked back tears. She signed the ladies’ autograph books and chatted to them through the flight.

  Cress had never felt anything like this. As they walked through the airport, people wished them luck, or made positive comments about the Women’s Aussie Rules competition. W.A.R. was a movement sweeping the country, and Cress had heard those words but not experienced what that meant. It gave her goosebumps.

  She was a member of a team, playing in a contest that held the hopes and dreams of the female sporting population of Australia. Rather than terrify her, it made her heart swell. Jolene had been spruiking these messages for weeks and it was sinking in. Right into the very core. It settled there comfortably, for the most part, but nerves still flittered around.

 

‹ Prev