Hard to Hold

by K. Bromberg

  Everyone says, “Hear, hear,” before clinking glasses, as my dad steps forward and embraces me in another one of his bear hugs. The hugs that solved all problems when I was a kid and still fixes things while I’m an adult too. I’ve felt incomplete without them.

  “Your mother would be so proud of you,” he says before giving me a kiss on the cheek and stepping back so everyone else can give me love as well.

  Rush is last in line. He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear before leaning down and brushing his lips over mine and whispering, “Happy Birthday, Nox.”

  I swear there’s a collective hush over the party as they watch their sister—the one who hates public displays of affection and anything that can be considered romantic—not fight it when it comes to this man.

  Somehow, it seems so damn natural with Rush, it’s ridiculous.

  RUSH

  “THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE.” DEKKER KINCADE stands outside the changing room of the stadium, where I just fulfilled my last contracted MLS exhibition game. There are more events on the calendar, but this was the last big one.

  “Thanks, but I’m feeling a bit rusty.”

  “Oh, please,” she says with a roll of her eyes that is so Lennox, it’s funny.

  I close the distance between us, and she pushes off the wall she was leaning against. Her arms are still crossed over her chest and her eyes are still fixed on mine.

  Uh-oh.

  It’s big-sister protection time.

  “It’s true. I’m going to be lagging when I get back home to the team.”

  “So that’s the plan? For you to head back when this contract is fulfilled?”

  “Despite whatever rumors are out there, yes.” She nods, her eyes intense. “What is it you want to ask, Dekker? There’s a reason Hunter’s not standing beside you, so my best guess is you’re going to give me a warning that if I break your sister’s heart, I’m going to have to deal with you next. Is that it?”

  Her smile is slow to crawl onto her lips but does anyway. “Do I need to worry?”

  “We’re both adults who went into this knowing where it would end. Will it sting? A lot more than I fucking expected it to, but . . .” I force a smile, but I think both Lennox and I know it’s going to hurt like a bitch when we do leave here. I see it in the way she looks at me now. It’s in the way she kisses. It’s in the way I hold her a little tighter at night when she sleeps, so I can remember everything. “We live in two different worlds. Two different countries. We’re two successful people hell-bent on our professional success.”

  “As are Hunter and I.”

  “Look”—I laugh—“we’re not you and Hunter. We’re us and we don’t need anyone forcing us into a mold other than one we’ve created for ourselves.”

  “Fair enough.” She chews on her bottom lip, and I’d kill to know what’s going through her mind.

  “Have you guys enjoyed your trip?” I ask.

  “Who wouldn’t with this weather?” she says. “We’ve all met with some of our West Coast clients, which is always good, but most of all we were able to check in on Lenn and make sure she was okay.”

  “And is she?” I ask, realizing this might be the point of this whole conversation. “In your eyes, is she doing okay?” I angle my head to the side and stare at her.

  “Seems to be,” she murmurs. “The bullshit Finn pulled on her really did a number on her self-esteem. It’s the first time she’s literally dropped everything and flown the proverbial coop, so to speak, taking a job that wasn’t the right fit for her.”

  “What? What did Finn do to her?”

  “The Las Vegas conference a few months back?” She stares at my blank look. “Shit, I’m sorry. I figured you—never mind.”

  “No. I want to know.”

  “I’m sorry, Rush, but if she wanted you to know she would have told you.” She laughs and tightens her ponytail. “And now I see why she didn’t. Shit.” She takes a few steps away from me, and when she turns around, her expression suggests she’s just figured something out. Either Dekker Kincade is really good at playing the game to get me to ask her what she means, or she’s being completely sincere right now.

  “Would you care to enlighten me?” Sarcasm rings in my tone.

  “If Lennox told you, it would look like a dirty tactic to win you over to KSM. A dirty tactic, which was exactly what Finn was accusing her of doing in front of numerous colleagues.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Everything clicks. All of Lennox’s comments. “He’s the one who accused her of using sex to secure clients?” I ask, already knowing the answer, already able to see the scenario in my head.

  A group of men, drinking, shooting the shit, and Finn leading them by the nose to believe exactly what he wanted them to believe. And of course, there’s nothing Lennox can do to disprove them since their minds have already been made up.

  Hell, I’ve been in similar situations like that before where guys are talking, everyone is nodding, and the next time you see the woman, your opinion is skewed. It’s human fucking nature.

  And Finn is a fucking wanker.

  I roll my shoulders as the anger hits, and know Lennox was right not to tell me. She was right, because my knee jerk reaction would be to call the arsehole up, fire him on the spot, and then move to KSM.

  Problem with that?

  It would only serve to strengthen his slander.

  She slept with me. Others have seen us kissing, thanks to my own necessity to do so, and of course, conclusions have been drawn about our status.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter.

  “See the problem?” She lifts her eyebrows.

  Fuck. Yes.

  “You might get away with doing whatever you want, whenever you want even if it’s trouble, but you still get paid. You still have a public pushing for you because of your incredible talent. Lenn, on the other hand? She’ll look like a tart who fucks her way to the top.”

  She’ll be considered a trollop, when she is anything but.

  Fuck.

  Me: Any news with Liverpool?

  Finn: I think I’ll have two offers for you on the table by the end of next week.

  Me: There’s only one I want. Make sure that happens. This is the part where the client is always right, so you go after the contract he wants, not the one you want.

  Finn: Relax.

  Me: This is conditional on you still being my agent. Shitty circumstances or not, make it happen.

  I hit send on the text and beg for him to make a comment about Lennox. Something. Anything. All I need is a stepping-off point for me to virtually plow my fist in his face.

  Finn: Understood.

  I stare at his response for the longest time, wondering how I’ll be able to face Lennox and not tell her I know.

  But hell, I promised Dekker I wouldn’t say a word.

  And my word I’ll keep.

  LENNOX

  “EXCUSE ME, BUT I DO believe this is my bathroom.”

  I look at Rush who is standing in the doorway, his shoulder against the jamb, his eyes focused on me as I put my toothbrush in the holder.

  “Yours, huh?”

  He reaches out and tugs me against him. “Mine.”

  My breath catches at the look in his eyes and the feel of his hands on my waist. How is that possible? How can desire grow stronger, even though I’ve already had him before?

  “Thank you for helping to surprise me,” I murmur, leaning up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

  “Thank you for taking me to the ballgame,” he says and returns the kiss, but this time slips his hand beneath my tank top so his hands are on my bare skin.

  “Thank you for putting up with my nosy sisters, who probably asked you way too many questions and assumed way too many things.”

  Another kiss where my hands roam freely up the plane of his chest.

  “Not a problem.”

  And this time the kiss leads to me jumping so my legs wrap around Rush’s waist, befo
re he carries me into my bedroom and lays me on the bed.

  It wasn’t intentional.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  But day by day and night by night, kiss by kiss and laugh by laugh, this thing between us, which was supposed to be fun and something to fill the time, became something more.

  It warmed the parts of me that had grown cold and ignited the parts of me that others had heated but never lit. Not until Rush had I ever really burned, and oh how he made me burn.

  I was in love with Rush McKenzie.

  But there’s no way in hell I could ever tell him.

  He has his own crowd to go to, and his own place to be cheered on.

  His own life to live.

  His own everything to be.

  I’ve always known I’d have to let him go so he could.

  “Hey, you okay?” Rush asks as he pushes his way into me. The burn in my chest only serves to heighten the sweet ache of us becoming one.

  “Yes,” I murmur as I lean up and kiss him again.

  “You’re crying,” he whispers as he kisses each track of my tears away.

  “It’s okay.” I grab his biceps as his hips slowly move against mine.

  “You sure?” His eyes find mine in the darkness.

  “Yes.” Another kiss. “I just need you tonight, Rush.”

  “You have me, Lennox.” Another push in and slow withdraw out. “You have me completely.”

  LENNOX

  “IT REALLY IS GORGEOUS HERE.”

  I startle at the sound of my dad’s voice and find him sitting on the chaise lounge, staring at the view of the city. “Dad. You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?” I move toward his spot in the shade and take a seat in the chair next to him.

  “I know you’re sick of us all being here—a couple days of us is a lot—and that we said our goodbyes last night before we headed back to the hotel, but I wanted a moment with you alone if that’s okay. Johnny let me in.”

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “I wanted to give you something.” He produces a black box with a white ribbon tied around it.

  “What’s this?”

  “A little birthday present for you.”

  “Dad, you didn’t have to,” I say as I pull the ribbon off and then gasp when I open the box.

  “It was your mother’s. She used to wear it, and I thought it was fitting you should have it.”

  I take the necklace out of the box. It’s a plain gold chain, nothing special, but it’s the delicate charm dangling from it that makes me catch my breath.

  It’s a loose version of a compass. Feathered arrows cross over each other, each one depicting a direction. There is a band around the whole of it with the word wanderlust etched in the daintiest of scripts.

  I rub my fingers over the pendant and feel more connected to her already. My eyes are full of tears when I look up to meet my dad’s.

  “Thank you. This is the best present, Dad. It’s perfect.”

  “For you it is, yes.” He sniffles away the emotion and then sighs loudly. “I nearly choked when Rush jumped in the pool the other day, and I saw a similar image on his chest in that mess of ink he has.”

  “You mean his tattoos?”

  “Yes, I mean those.” He rolls his eyes as only a father can do.

  “It’s for his mom. She had a medallion with a compass on it. He got the tattoo in her memory.”

  “Oh.” It’s a simple sound, but it says so much more coming from my dad. The look in his eyes reinforces it. He’s shocked by the coincidence and happy, in a bittersweet way, that I’m seeing someone who understands the kind of loss that’s hard to explain to someone who has never experienced it personally.

  “Yes. I know. How odd that we both . . .” I blink back tears and then smile. “Nice segue by the way.”

  “I’m proud of it.” He winks at me and then his expression stills.

  “If you wanted to talk about him, all you had to do was say so.”

  “Okay.” He nods and chews the inside of his cheek for a moment as he finds the right words. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “He’s what I need right now, yes. Does that mean he’s going to be what I need in a few weeks? I don’t know.” I try to sell the lie with a soft smile, but I’m not completely sure my dad buys it.

  “You’re not sixteen, Lenn. You don’t have to hide liking a guy because you’re afraid you’re going to get in trouble.” He chuckles. “It’s okay that you do. He seems like a nice man.”

  “I think you’re letting me off the hook and not saying what you really want to say.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “That I told you I was going to recruit him, and I ended up dating him. It’s not exactly putting the most professional foot forward.”

  “Sometimes life has different plans for you than the ones you made.” He lifts his eyebrows and shrugs.

  “Not a single one of you has said a word about the Esme situation.” There. It’s finally out in the open. The reason I’ve walked on eggshells around my dad on this. “Why is that, Dad?”

  “Because, honey, we trust you.” He pats my knee.

  “You what?”

  “We trust you. It’s as simple as that. If you say Rush is who he says he is, then I believe you and trust your judgment over a newspaper article.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing more to say. I’ve got a plane to catch,” he says as he rises and then leans over and kisses the top of my head like he used to when I was a little girl. “Happy Birthday, Lenn. Everything will work out for the best.”

  LENNOX

  “WHY WAS I HOPING THAT this time when you said get in the car, that you were kidnapping me for another retreat to the beach?” I pant. I glance at Rush, who isn’t fazed at all by our uphill ascent of Runyan Canyon.

  “You’re hanging with me just fine.” He pats my ass. “Besides, exercise is good to clear the mind, and we need it after that ridiculous thing we had to go to last night.”

  I laugh. “Mitzy definitely had your number,” I say in regards to a little old lady who would not leave Rush’s side all night during the MLS benefit for league sponsors.

  “I think she drenched herself in ten bottles of perfume.” He mock shivers. “Our bet was interrupted the other night by your surprise. C’mon. First one to the top gets—”

  “I’m winning this baby,” I say as I jog a few steps in front of his long stride. No woman is going to give up the chance of getting a tonguegasm by Rush McKenzie.

  The man may have skills on the pitch but when it comes to that tongue of his, it puts everything else he can do to complete shame.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rush asks, as he takes a seat beside me on one of the benches at the top of the hike.

  “Not as beautiful as the picture I have when I look down to see the top of your head between my thighs,” I whisper into his ear.

  “You’re filthy, Kincade, and I fucking love it.”

  “Thank you very much.” I glance his way and my smile fades when I see the way he’s looking at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.

  “It was great meeting your family.” He gives a reminiscent smile. “They’re a great bunch.”

  “They’ll drive you crazy after too long.” I reach out and link my fingers with his.

  “I had a small taste of that after the Mathesons took me in.”

  “The Mathesons?” I ask.

  “After I made the academy team, a teammate. Rory Matheson?” he asks and I nod, the name nothing more than a blip in my head. He’s definitely not a starter with LFC. “His parents took me in as a part of their family for holidays so I wouldn’t be alone. But it was nothing like you guys.” He squeezes my hand. “And before that, it was just me and my mum figuring out how to stretch every penny so we had both food and shelter, and preferably both at the same time.”

  “I’m sorry.”

&nbs
p; He chuckles. “That’s not why I’m telling you this. Again, I don’t want your pity, Nox, I . . . shit,” he mutters and runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

  “Rush?”

  He turns to look at me with eyes so clear and focused, surrounded by a host of unfathomable emotion.

  “I came from nothing. No dad. My mum was sick for so long, working wasn’t an option, and so what little money we had saved, ran out. And when she died, no one asked what would happen to her only child. Distant family members assumed other distant family members had me and vice versa, while I lived in an abandoned shed I found behind a flat.”

  “Oh my God,” I say but it falls on deaf ears, because Rush is on a mission to tell me something. I am here to listen.

  “It was dry and I made it livable but it gave me what I needed, an address so that I could train at the academy without them asking questions. My only goal was to play football. At first when she was sick, the dreams were to get her out of where we were so she could be more comfortable, and then after she died, it was the only thing I had to keep me going. I begged, borrowed, and stole, Lennox. Not just kits left in the lost property so I looked like I fit in either. I stole food. I would swipe change left out. I was a fifteen-year-old petty thief who was stealing to put food in my stomach whenever I could.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. Things got a little better when I received the scholarship to the academy. I had a place to live and regular meals. It was like winning the Lotto. Then the Mathesons became family in a sense, and gave me that taste of normality on the rare days I wasn’t playing football.”

  “Why does no one know this about you?” I murmur.

  “My life isn’t a feel-good movie, Lennox. It’s not something I’m proud of.” His voice breaks with shame and it damn near kills me.

  “You went from nothing to being arguably one of the best footballers in the world. It’s more than a feel-good movie, it’s downright inspiring.” I throw my hands in the air. I have never met someone as self-made as Rush McKenzie. How did he survive? Thrive? Succeed? “Think of what that little boy at the first exhibition—”