Endurance

by Amy Daws

  When Tanner held her, however, it was less dreamlike. I could hardly stop laughing as he awkwardly tried to find a position to rest his arm. I kept picking at him to adjust her so her head wasn’t sagging back, and he just snapped back at me like he knew how to figure it out because he wasn’t a moron. So I asked him if he was sure about that because I seem to remember him naked on a street corner only a month ago. That escalated into a quarrel of epic proportions.

  Since he had Rocky in his arms, we weren’t flat out screaming at each other like we wanted to. We were talking in slow, saccharinely sweet voices and smiling bright white teeth as we calmly called each other a knobhead spunk bubble and a nagging know-it-all cow.

  Vi and Hayden didn’t know what to say, except for, “Thank God Adrienne can’t understand words yet.”

  Afterwards, in the hospital parking lot, Tanner leaned across the console of my car, grabbed my face in his hands, and kissed me with an aggression that revved more than my car engine. When he pulled away and said, “You looked absolutely beautiful holding my niece,” I think I died a thousand deaths.

  Indie had warned me about on-season footballers and off-season footballers being so different, but what I witnessed the next week with Tanner is not at all what I expected.

  Originally, I thought he might pull away once he started attending practices again, requiring some space to help get back into his routine and focus. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  After his first practice back, he showed up at my door, smelly kit and all, and asked me if I wanted a shower, a forking, and then a spooning. We ended up spending every night together after that.

  But things aren’t exactly like they were before. Tanner is still goofy and he’s still Tanner, crude jokes and all, but he’s more…intense. More focused. Even in the bedroom.

  We no longer just have sex. We create movement. We connect on a different level that’s so much more…soulful. The way he looks at me and the things he says while inside of me have given me the most powerful orgasms of my entire life.

  So I have to say, I’m a massive fan of On-Season Tanner.

  A few days into practice, after a particularly incredible session of love-making, Tanner spoons me and begins opening up as if the words have been aching to come out.

  “Did you know Camden and I had our own secret language growing up?” he asks, his voice husky as he adjusts me so his left arm is tucked under me like a pillow. His right arm snakes around the dip of my waist and he pulls the back of my naked body flush against the front of his.

  “Like cryptophasia?” I ask.

  “Crypto what?” he asks, his breath puffing against the hair on my head.

  “Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins that only they can understand,” I answer.

  “Well, yeah then, I guess that’s what we had. Didn’t know there was a medical fucking term for it.”

  I smile and bite my lip. A heavy silence stretches out and I can tell he wants to say more so I add, “I’m sure that meant you two were very close.”

  He exhales and drops a soft kiss to my hair. “We were, are I mean. We still are, but we’re not. It’s…different now that he’s not on the pitch with me anymore.”

  My brows knit as he continues.

  “I think being twins put us at a huge advantage in a match. Communication was instinctual. Effortless, like breathing. Have you ever noticed how we always stand on the same side of each other?”

  “No,” I reply, a bit fascinated.

  “Yeah, not just on the pitch either. It’s everywhere we go. Cam is always on my right side. It’s bizarre. We don’t even mean to do it, but we have a constant awareness of each other.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “So we’ve had this our whole lives. Then when he left for Arsenal and I went to Tower Park without him…it felt like…one of my lungs was missing.”

  My heart clenches at the vulnerability in his words. “I’m sure you miss him.”

  “But I’m also so fucking proud of him I could burst. He’s acing it with Arsenal, and watching him out there is incredible.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “But is it completely selfish of me to want him back by my side?”

  “Not at all,” I answer and scrunch into him while dropping a kiss on his forearm. “I understand it. I felt similar when Indie left The Royal London Hospital.”

  Indie and I had been beside each other since med school, but as our interests became more focused, it pulled us further apart professionally. Then she started getting serious with Camden and things continued to change. We probably had an easier time of it than Tanner and Camden because we’re used to being on our own more than they are. We didn’t grow up like the Harris family and we certainly never shared a womb. But she’s still my version of family.

  “If I wouldn’t have had my fellowship with Dr. Miller coming up, I think I would have been completely gutted to lose Indie.”

  His grip on me tightens. “It’s like having a security blanket taken away.”

  I half smile. “Exactly.”

  He kisses me and sighs, “I’m finally starting to see myself without Cam. I need my team to see that, too.”

  “They will,” I reply. “You’re a hard one to miss, Tanner Harris. And you may have lost a teammate, but you haven’t lost Cam. You’re biological brothers. Nothing will ever change that.”

  He pulls in a large breath and I feel his chest rise against my back. When he exhales, his muscles soften and his body relaxes into me as if he’s unloaded the world off his shoulders. He nuzzles his chin into my hair and whispers, “I…” He pauses as he searches for his words. “I need to be inside you again.”

  My brows lift. “Oh, I suppose I could withstand another mind-shattering orgasm.”

  He kisses my giggles away and makes love to me like I never knew he could.

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK OF this one?” Indie asks, stepping out of the dressing room at a secondhand boutique she insisted we go to.

  I squint at the strapless red dress. “It’s good but I liked the black one better, darling,” I answer from the purple chaise lounge that I’m currently stretched out on like a cat in heat. It’s the only perk to this godforsaken shop.

  I don’t consider myself a snob, but Indie is the cheapest person I’ve ever met. She constantly looks at the price tags everywhere we go. Even on a menu. And it’s not to differentiate the steak price from the burger. It’s to save two pounds by getting a tuna sandwich instead of salmon. I know her job shadowing at Bethnal Green F.C. pays practically nothing but still. Her defiant independence is maddening. I could have easily ordered her a new dress and we could be drinking wine right now instead of rifling through used clothing in Shoreditch, but she’s a willful little thing.

  “Black it is,” Indie says, disappearing behind the curtain. “How much time do we have?”

  “About an hour before the guys said to be back.”

  “Okay, perfect. I’m just about done here.”

  Indie and I are out last minute shopping in preparation for the big hospital fundraiser tomorrow night. We’ve both been in Loversville with our hot Harris men all week, so we were in dire need of some girl time. However, it will be short-lived because Tanner and Camden are making dinner for the four of us tonight. It’s likely going to be chicken and rice or some derivative of that because that’s apparently all footballers eat during the season.

  “I’m so done with this shopping nonsense,” Indie adds. “I hate trying on dresses. You have to take all of your clothes off and think about what undergarments you’re wearing. It’s a pain in the arse.”

  “But you look gorgeous in them.” I laugh at her tiny fit.

  “So do you. Your dress for tomorrow night is wicked.”

  I exhale, relieved that I’ve got mine sorted already. It’s a Badgley Mischka gown that looks as if it was custom made for me. It hugs all the good spots and minimises all the problem areas. Although, if you asked Tanner, he would say there are no bad areas
on my body. He would know since we experimented with that chocolate drizzle, meaning of life talk he promised.

  “I’m really looking forward to this fundraiser.”

  Indie’s comment makes me smile. I can’t believe the big night is already here. Both Bethnal and Arsenal are playing neighbouring teams, so Indie, Camden, Booker, and of course Tanner are all planning to come to the event after their matches finish, along with several other Bethnal players and WAGs. They bought a large sponsor table and everything.

  Tomorrow is also Tanner’s first match back with Bethnal Green, so he’s been vibrating with nerves the last couple of days. Sadly, I’m not able to attend. Dr. Miller asked me to welcome the charity’s honoured family at the Shangri-La Hotel at The Shard. The event is taking place in the ballroom that evening, but I’m to have high tea with them in the Westminster Suite when they arrive. The upside is that I get to keep the room for the night.

  And, win or lose, Tanner has made serious promises for how we’ll take advantage of that.

  But tonight we’re doing ordinary things that couples do.

  Indie steps out of her dressing room, back in her athletic pants and Bethnal T-shirt. I shake my head at her. “I forgot what you even look like in scrubs.”

  She frowns at her clothing. “I just came from practice, thank you very much.”

  I put my hands up in defence. “You look great. I’m just curious if you miss surgery at all.”

  She adjusts her yellow eyewear and slings her black gown over her shoulder. “I certainly don’t miss the anxiety of life or death, nor do I miss the politics and the networking I always had to do. Football has its fair share, too, but, I don’t know…The energy of the match and the athletes excites me so much more than a stuffy surgical theatre ever did.”

  “More like the energy of Camden Harris,” I jeer and tweak my eyebrows at her.

  She smiles and drops down by my feet on the lounger. She has a starry-eyed look about her that makes me smile.

  “I’m kind of crazy in love with that man.”

  My brows lift. “Well done, you.” She rolls her eyes but I don’t relent. “There was a time when you never thought you’d have sex, let alone fall in love.”

  She sets her toffee eyes on me. “And now look at me…A big pile of mushy, pun-loving goo.”

  My smile falters a little. “Are you really that secure in your love, Indie?”

  “Of course I am!” she exclaims. “What do you mean?”

  I swallow hard. “I mean, look. You and I understand each other. We’re the perfect roommates because we’re cut from the same cloth. Our families might appear night and day different from the outside, but there are some definite parallels I can draw that make us so alike it’s scary.”

  “Yes, I would agree with that,” Indie states with a pragmatic nod of the head.

  “Don’t you find it hard to let go completely? I mean, you are the first real sense of family I’ve ever had and that took us years to build. How did you get past your issues with Camden?”

  She eyes me thoughtfully. “Well, I think my friendship with you helped me learn how to open up a bit.”

  I quirk a brow as I ponder my takeaway from our friendship. “I’d say you helped me not turn into a completely cynical arsehole.”

  Indie beams. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  I huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “But really, how do you ever trust that your love with someone is genuine?”

  She looks embarrassed. “So I’m going to tell you something, but promise not to take the piss out of me.”

  “What?” I ask, frowning.

  “I sort of…have a philosophy on love.”

  My eyes twinkle with mirth. God, Indie is such a nerd sometimes. I’m betting she’s read a few books on love and formed her own theory. Always the researcher.

  “Please, Indie Porter, Doctor of Love, tell me all that you’ve learned since you’ve been in love for a hot five months.”

  She rolls her eyes and continues as if I didn’t just make some smart arse remark. “I think truly loving someone is a three-tier system.” She holds up three fingers and slowly ticks each number off as she goes. “First, and most important, is how they make you feel about yourself. Are they good to you? Do they accept you for your flaws? See the best in you? The second is how they feel about themselves. Do they take pride in what they do? Do they strive to become more? Do they love themselves? And the third tier is…” She pauses and pushes her glasses up on her nose. Then she pins me to the chaise lounge with her eyes, showing me she’s one hundred percent serious. “Do you inspire each other?”

  A simple nod of the head and a sigh is indication that she’s done. She looks down and adjusts the dress on her lap, allowing silence to fill the room all around us.

  Finally, I let out a chortle. “So that’s all?”

  She shoots me a determined frown. “Yes.”

  “I erm…don’t even have a proper snarky comment to respond to that right now.”

  “Good,” she replies. “Now, since we’re sharing so much, can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” I reply, skeptically.

  “What made you take a chance with Tanner? I’ve known you since med school, Belle, and you’ve never let a guy get this close before.”

  “Is it not enough that he’s hot as fuck?” I shoot her a salacious grin and I can tell she is in no way satisfied. So I go for a novel approach. Honesty.

  “Well, I think it’s a lot of what you said about tier one. He made me feel beautiful and he never shamed me for my outbursts. He just…embraces me as I am. Because of that, Tanner is my favourite person to be around. After you, of course.”

  “Naturally,” she giggles.

  “And even though we bicker at each other constantly, I’ve learned that it’s how we show affection. If we’re not arguing, we’re not caring.”

  “And tiers two and three?” Indie asks, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

  I look down, feeling my cheeks heat but still not ready to admit the truth aloud. I shrug my shoulders. “Stay tuned.”

  “Why didn’t Vi give us an easier recipe?” I growl as I pull the chicken out of the oven and look at the travesty before me. I slam the oven door. “We totally fucked this up.”

  Camden pops up over my shoulder to get a closer look. “Sod it, I’ll eat it.”

  My eyes fly wide. “What about the girls?”

  He shrugs. “I got them a bottle of wine. After a glass or two, they won’t even notice.”

  I toss the pot holder on the counter. “I’m going to call Vi. You might be content with mediocrity in your relationship, but I’m still trying to impress my woman.”

  Camden chokes on the drink of water he’s just taken. “Good grief, keep your shirt on, broseph! It’s only dinner. We don’t need to be bothering Vi. She has her own family to worry about.”

  His remark brings me up short. “We’re still her family, too! Rocky is just an extension of all of us. Hayden, too, for that matter.”

  Camden jerks back. “Christ, you’re a moody bugger today.”

  I scowl and move over to the rice cooker on the counter and give it a cursory check. Vi says a rice slow cooker is something apes could operate, so luckily it doesn’t look like we fucked that up.

  Grabbing the leaf lettuce and veggies out of the fridge, I bring them over to the counter peninsula. I toss a cucumber to Camden.

  “Make yourself useful.”

  He exhales and begins carefully slicing while I work on the carrots. I haven’t been in my flat very much as of late, opting for the sanctuary of Belle’s body, I mean bedroom, over my own. Though, if I’m being honest, I don’t just go over there for the shag. I simply prefer to be around her. And with her big event coming up tomorrow, I wanted to do something special here at our flat to help her relax and take her mind off the stress of that.

  I can feel Camden’s eyes on me as I chop.

  “You all right, Tanner? Y
ou seem…tense. Is it the match tomorrow? That magazine interview next week?”

  I exhale heavily. “No, I mean, I’m dreading the magazine interview, especially because Santino said they converted it into a video feature or some bullshit.”

  “Oh, what a sensation!” Camden peals in his imitation of the Queen’s voice. “You and Belle are going to be positively scrumptious on camera!”

  I roll my eyes and reply flatly, “You’re one to talk.”

  He drops the joke. “Indie and I had our moment in the spotlight, but now you and Belle are the shiny new object everyone cares about. But if it’s not that, what’s your deal? Is it the game?”

  My brows knit together. “I’m anxious but like…hyped, mostly. Practice this week has been solid. DeWalt and I are finally getting a rhythm out there. It feels right. I think we have a shot at winning if we can get everything to go our way.”

  Cam’s brows lift. “That’s brilliant. So what is it then?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumble, sliding the chopped carrots into the bowl of lettuce.

  “Are things bad between you and Belle?”

  “No, she’s fucking fantastic,” I answer quickly because it’s the truth. This week with Belle has been perfect. This month with Belle has been perfect. The ups and downs included in all of that because it just made me want her more.

  What started as the worst month of my life with a suspension morphed into something extraordinary. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on the precipice of something major, and I’m either going to jump or I’m going to fall.

  “Then out with it already, what is your problem?” he snaps.

  Pursing my lips, I brush my hands off on my jeans and decide to answer his question with another question. “How do you handle the balance between football and Indie?” I turn and toss the utensils in the sink and hoist myself up on the counter next to it. “I find myself completely engulfed in all things Belle and it seems a bit insane.”