by Len Webster
“Yes?”
Rob’s eyes hooded over. “I meant it.”
Ally, don’t.
Don’t let his words affect you.
She had repeated it to herself. Not Rob. Anyone but Rob. Ally’s breathing heaved as her eyelids fluttered. The only man to have ever said she was beautiful was the same man who held her face as he stroked her cheeks.
“No,” she said in a shaky voice. “You didn’t.”
“I do mean it.” Then he brought her face closer to his and whispered, “I wish you could see how I look at you, Allison.”
“You’re so confusing,” she confessed in a tiny voice.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Then his lips pressed on hers.
Her breath was taken from her, completely shocked that finally his mouth was on hers. It had been seven months since she last felt his kiss. Ally’s eyes closed as she fell into the way his lips brushed over hers. She knew she should stop, but she couldn’t. All she did was kiss him back, and she knew she had exposed herself to him.
Rob tilted her head to the right, his lips moulded over hers with each kiss and movement. Afraid her weak knees would betray her, Ally clutched Rob’s arms. A moan left her lips as his tongue found and met hers. Then he shifted them and pressed her back against the hallway wall. Her hands dragged down his arms and settled on his hips, pulling him against her. His groan of approval was a triumphant win for her heart and her confidence.
“Robbie,” she mumbled against his mouth as her fingers dug into his sides.
Suddenly, he broke contact, as if her saying his name was the realisation he needed. When she opened her eyes, she saw the rage flashed in them. Her panting was atrocious as was the beating of her heart. But the pain etched on his face had her blinking, understanding that it wasn’t pain.
It was regret.
She had never felt more beneath anyone than at that moment.
She felt worthless.
She felt easy.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Ally’s hands left his hips and fell to her sides. “What?”
Rob shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what had happened between them. Then he took a step back. The way he looked at her, it was as if he was remorseful over the fact that the kiss they just had existed.
He was retreating.
“Please don’t,” she pleaded in a tiny voice.
Averting her, Rob then took another step back and in a soft voice said, “I’m sorry, Allison,” and then left her apartment.
The door didn’t slam shut as she had expected. Instead, it closed with ease and a gentle click. The throbbing ache in her chest made itself known, making it difficult for her to breathe as the tears blurred her vision.
She blinked, allowing the offending tears to drag down her cheeks. Then she wiped them away with the back of her hand and took two steps towards the table. When she reached into her bag, she pulled out her list and a pen. Unfolding it, she let the pain in her chest leave its marks, allowing her to remember what it felt like for him to hurt her. When she smoothed out the lined paper, she grasped the pen and began to write.
13. Never let your next kiss hurt you the way your last one did.
“Six minutes and forty seconds,” Ralph said, sounding impressed. “World record’s six minutes and thirty-three seconds. We’re getting there.”
Rob panted as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his towel. It was late in the afternoon on Friday, and after covering Quinn’s morning shift at work, he met up with his coach for a later than usual training session. “I wasn’t putting in my all. I think I need to work on conserving my strength for the last five hundred.”
“You gotta focus between the five hundred and thousand mark. Conserving your energy is losing your focus,” Ralph said as he returned the stopwatch to his pocket. Then he bent down, took out a bottle of water from the Esky cooler, and handed it to Rob.
Rob nodded his appreciation and uncapped the bottle, throwing the towel back into his single scull boat. He drank almost half the water, quenching his thirst. His heart beat rapidly as his arms burned in that familiar ache after every training session. Once he had twisted the cap back onto the bottle, he handed it to his coach. Ralph was in his early fifties. He still had all of his dark brown hair, muscles from his continuous training since he had left the sport, and was shorter than Rob was. Ralph fixed his Rowing Australia hat and then eyed him.
“You heard what I said?”
He shook his head. “Nah, sorry. Say again.”
“Asked you if you reckon you’ll get anywhere near the world record?”
Rob scrunched his nose then shrugged at the coach he’d had since he was sixteen. “Don’t know. My PB’s six minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I’m still five seconds slower than the world record Mahé Drysdale set two years ago at Worlds for New Zealand. It’s gonna be tough, Ralph.”
“Five seconds isn’t long, Rob. You can beat it and win the Olympics if you train yourself not to fall flat in the middle. Start hard, finish hard, kid.”
It was always the same with Ralph. He believed that Rob could win the Olympics and beat the world record. It wasn’t as if they weren’t on the same page. And hiring Ralph, former world champion and silver Olympic medallist, meant training with the best. But it was added pressure. Rob had a goal. He had his focus. Beating the world record wasn’t the prime target. It was winning gold in Rio.
“Cooler weather’s coming. Not gonna be ideal for early morning training,” Rob pointed out, changing the subject.
“Gonna be a bitch. You’re gonna freeze your nuts off.”
Rob chuckled. “You will, too. You’ll be by the Yarra on your bike with your megaphone. Ain’t training at five in the morning without you, especially with Petenski in Canberra training with Donaldson since he took that coach’s role at AIS.”
Aaron ‘Petenski’ Brice had been Rob’s rival and rowing partner at the Melbourne University Boat Club. They’d both signed up for the club at sixteen and their fierce and friendly rivalry had started the moment they fought over the oar placement assignments. But when Petenski’s coach was offered a role at the Australian Institute of Sport, he’d followed. Mick Donaldson was a rowing legend and Petenski was just as passionate about the Olympics as Rob.
“Donaldson’s a good coach. Petenski would have been an idiot not to follow,” Ralph commented as he picked up his clipboard from the picnic bench next to them. Then he began to write down what Rob assumed was his time for today’s practice run. “See, several months ago, you beat your PB. We need to get you back into that mindset. What were you thinking about when you were on the river during that session?”
Allison.
Rob averted his coach’s questioning gaze and muttered, “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. I want you to find that fight you once had in you. That was your best rowing. We need that for Nationals. It’ll get you picked up for Worlds and then the Olym— ”
“Rob!” a female voice called, interrupting Ralph.
He turned his head to the right to find Jewel Monroe jogging towards them. Her tiny shorts showed off her stunning, toned legs and the sports bra she wore displayed her flat stomach and the swells of her breasts. When she reached them, she hunched over, panting. Rob noticed his coach peek at her cleavage and he rolled his eyes.
Dirty old man.
“Hi, Jewel, how’s the training?” Ralph asked in a flirty voice.
She brushed her black hair over her shoulder and nodded, still breathless. “Good. And how are you boys fairing?”
For a long time, he’d been interested in Jewel. That had been before Noel returned from Boston. Rob had been pining over her since he was eighteen, and she began to show up at PJ’s. Her father used to be a rower and her brother had taken up the sport. However, two years ago, her brother had ruptured his knee and had an early retirement before he could make it to the World Championships. Ever since he met her, he’d been infatuated with her. Not many knew she was also
training for the Olympics, hoping to make it onto the athletics team and compete in the marathon. She hadn’t paid much interest in him until he started to hang out with Stevie; that was where operation make Jewel jealous had developed. His feelings for Jewel had all but vanished the moment he met her.
Allison O’Connor.
“Good,” Ralph replied for him.
It was hard not to miss just how attractive Jewel was. Her dark, red lips and her high cheekbones. Her pale skin was a stunning backdrop against her black hair. Jewel was beautiful in that she knew how hot she was. She used it. She manipulated men with it.
She smiled at his coach and then swung her blue gaze over to Rob. “You’re looking good, Rob.”
He smiled to be polite. “Thanks, Jewel. Close to your PB?”
She pursed her lips and then frowned. “Before my ankle injury last year, I wasn’t even close. But I really haven’t attempted another marathon since. I have one coming up in South Australia soon. But hey, I better go. I have another five kilometres to run. We should hang out soon.”
“Yeah,” he said. “We should.”
Her lips spread into a wide smile. “Sounds great. I’ll see you both later.” And then Jewel spun back around and continued her run.
Rob’s eyes focused on her as she vanished from his sight. Last year, his eyes would have glanced at her ass, but now, they were fascinated by the way her long black hair swung as she ran.
“That’s the kind of girl you need to be dating. You want the Australian Olympic Committee to like you? Dating Australia’s hottest emerging marathon runner is gonna get you noticed. They haven’t had a star couple since Eamon Sullivan and Stephanie Rice. You and Jewel could be it,” Ralph remarked.
He knew deep down that being linked to Jewel would be a better public image than being seen with Allison. He knew that soon enough he’d ask Jewel Monroe to dinner. And Robert Moors knew that he would never be capable of loving Jewel the way he loved Allison O’Connor.
By the time the junior rowers had put his scull and oars into the boathouse storage room, it was close to four. It was minutes after five when he had finished his ice bath recovery at the gym. Then he used the gym showers to wash away the day’s hard training session. The sun had begun to set once he’d walked through PJ’s front door to find his brother at a table towards the back on his phone. Once he zigzagged past all the pub’s patrons, he took the seat in front of Julian.
“There he is! My favourite brother,” Julian teased as he set down his phone.
Rob rolled his eyes. “I’m your only brother.”
Julian grinned. “If I had another one, you’d still be my favourite. How was training?”
“Two seconds off my personal best,” he answered. Then he sighed. “Which is still five seconds off the world record.”
Julian nodded. “Petenski close to it?”
“Nah, his PB’s three seconds slower than mine. As far as I’m aware, I have the best PB out of all the competing men’s single scull rowers. I need to get into the right mindset. I need to wipe at least five seconds from my PB.” Rob rubbed at his jaw with his palm.
“Well, what was going through your mind during your row when you beat your personal best?” Julian asked. Then he raised two fingers up in the air and ordered out loud. “Mitchy, can we get two over here?”
“Be with you boys in a second,” Rob heard Mitch say.
He squinted at the free chair next to his younger brother. “Where’s Stevie?”
Julian reached up and loosened his grey tie. “She’s on the train now and will be here soon. Her class ran later than usual.”
“How are you two?” he inquired.
A large grin consumed his brother’s face and his eyes glimmered. “Great. Though I’ve been trying to get her to say yes to a damn dog. But other than that, we’re good. She’s just stressed over her assignments, so I have to be nice. Don’t know where she gets the whole I’m annoying idea from.”
Rob held back a laugh. “’Cause you’ve been an annoying shit since birth.”
Julian’s lips parted as he was about to fight back, but instead, his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Blondie, ‘bout time you got your beautiful self here!”
Rob craned his neck to see Julian’s fiancée, Stevie, walk towards them. She adjusted her satchel onto her shoulder properly and brushed her hair to her back. Then she smiled at her fiancé and that flawless, honest smile had the jealousy burning through Rob. He had wanted to be Stevie’s, but Julian had been hers four years prior. When she reached the chair next to Julian, she sat down with a sigh.
“Where’s your fiancé’s kiss?” Julian asked.
Rob’s upper lip twitched. Stevie hated being told what to do. Her spitfire personality had been what attracted him from the start. He was excited to see her chew out Julian.
But instead, he watched Stevie set her bag on the floor, kiss Julian and softly whispered, “Mon soleil rayonnant.”
And that was the very moment any attracting feelings he had for Stevie fizzled into a platonic liking towards her.
“Not fiancé, remember?” she reminded.
Julian kissed her temple and said, “Yeah, yeah.”
“So when are you two actually getting married?” Rob asked before they could go into disgusting make-out mode.
“Un jour,” Julian answered.
“What the fuck is with all the French?” Rob groaned.
Fuck me, get me some alcohol.
Stevie raised a brow. “Un jour means ‘someday.’ As in, someday we’ll get married. Julian’s just started work as Rogers & Co.’s vice president, and I’m back at university. Getting married is a little much on our plate for now.”
“What did you just say to Julian in French before?”
The colour in her eyes softened, and it was truly beautiful. His brother was a lucky bastard to be on the receiving end of it. “Mon soleil rayonnant?”
“Yeah.”
She faced Julian and her eyes hooded. “My radiant sun.”
“Jesus,” Rob groaned, her eyes snapping towards his. “Never did I think you’d be the …” He paused, hesitating to finish.
“Gonna continue?” she challenged. That one question brought back the spitfire Stevie he had loved.
Rob leant forward, eyeing Stevie’s beautiful face and then Julian’s smirk. Then he sighed. “Didn’t think you were the sentimental type.”
He noticed her nostrils had flared before she leant towards him. “Fall in love someday, Rob, and then talk to me.”
“You won’t have to worry about me fallin’ in love, Stevie. Thought we had that in common. I don’t do love.” Lie after lie came out of his mouth. But he didn’t need Stevie to pity him. He was quite all right since she had told him they could never be more. It stung. But when he saw the way she looked at his brother, Rob knew he’d never have her heart.
“Rob,” she said sadly.
Great.
She feels sorry for me.
“I don’t have time for love, Stevie. The Olympics are what I care about. I don’t need love, okay?” He added more force to his tone to end their conversation.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Julian’s tense posture. His brother was the only one who knew he had fallen in love. And Julian knew how much bigger his dreams were than Allison O’Connor.
“You say that now, but I know you care about—Where’s Ally?” Stevie swung her gaze to Julian.
“She said she wasn’t feeling well,” Julian explained. “I checked in with her on my lunch break, but she didn’t answer. She texted just before and told me she’d been asleep.”
Stevie’s brows bunched together. Then she faced Rob. “You took her home last night, right?”
Rob nodded.
“She wasn’t well then, too?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she say anything when you dropped her off?”
Please don’t.
Those were the two words she had said in a tight voice. She had plead
ed for him not to leave her. Not to regret his actions. Rob had kissed her. He couldn’t help it. When she had said that she wanted to find someone who said she was beautiful and meant it, something clicked inside him. Possessive anger took hold of him. He had said it and meant it and he wanted her to know. And when he confessed that he did mean it, the need to kiss her was like wildfire taking over bushland on a dry summer’s day. When she had moaned ‘Robbie,’ it was as if ice water had drenched him, freezing his heart’s beats. He needed space. And he retreated. Like a damn coward, he had retreated.
All Rob had said was that he was sorry and that was that. He had left her and returned home. Once he made it into his apartment, he had gone into his spare room and spent several hours on the rowing machine, hoping the ache of his arms and legs out pained the one in his chest. He wanted to forget her quivering lip and her glassy eyes.
“She said nothing.”
Because I didn’t let her.
“Hello?” Ally hadn’t looked at her screen when she answered her phone.
“Ally, where are you?” her roommate, Stevie, asked.
She frowned and checked the time on the phone’s screen. It was almost six p.m. She had texted Julian at around four saying that she was okay and she had been asleep most of the day. The tiredness she felt kept her in bed. Ally hadn’t felt this tired since before she had found out her kidneys weren’t functioning properly. That and she hadn’t quite brushed off Rob’s rejection.
Again.
This time, the pain had doubled. He had instigated the kiss. He had been the one to make the move. And he had been the one who retreated. She had felt foolish for falling into his kiss. For letting it consume her heart and her world. And for letting it take what air had invaded her lungs.
“At home. How were classes?” she asked as she kept her eyes on the TV, trying to follow the instructions Jamie Oliver was giving on how to make risotto.
I wonder if I can make that …
I’d need those ingredients.
Where the heck do I get prosciutto?
She shook her head. Risotto looked complex and she’d never cooked once in her life. She needed to start easy. With that thought in mind, she got off the couch and made her way towards the pantry.