“No,” she began slowly. “I don’t remember that. Primary school was so long ago.”
“Neela Smyth, you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten how you were the one who always divided the players up into teams. And you must remember how no one would tell you any different, whether we agreed with you or not.”
“Was I fair?”
He laughed, his eyes lighting up, and she suddenly understood why reporters—both women and men— would finish their segments smiling. Blake made people like him. He must have picked up that attribute when he was older because she didn’t remember him being more than the smallest kid on the field, full of energy but lacking any real skill. And he definitely hadn’t always been liked.
“You were, actually,” he said. “Though, when I think back, you taking me on your team was more of a testament to your strength as a player than to mine.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that rose up at that concession to their shared past. That part, she did remember. Blake had been such a puny little thing when he was a young boy. No one had wanted him on their teams, nor had any of them suspected he’d go on to be one of the youngest players on a world championship rugby team.
“You’re not going to distract me from trying to leave, Blake.” She finished her coffee and jumped off the barstool. “I’m sure you have more important things to do today than go over childhood memories. I need to go home.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She paused and turned around slowly. Hands on her hips, she hoped he heard how serious she was. “No.”
“Come on, help a fella out. Mano’s still my landlord, and he’s one of my captains. If I fail, he may kill me.”
“He won’t kill you.”
“Come on, Neela, please?”
She couldn’t help it, but the exaggerated look on Blake’s face dampened the irritation she wanted to feel for him. But she also wasn’t naïve. Rugby wasn’t the only reason his name was in the public eye so often.
“This is new territory for me. Is the famous Blake Stanton trying to charm his way with me? Because you know that won’t work with this girl. Save it for your adoring fans.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. Come on. I made a promise I intend to keep. If you won’t stay here, I’ll have to go back with you.”
“No.”
“I’ll wait outside your place all day if I have to. I’d rather not because it’s not how I want to spend a beautiful Sunday. But a promise is a promise between brothers.”
She groaned. “Oh, don’t give me any of that ‘rugby brothers’ rubbish.”
“You’d do anything for your rugby sisters. I know you would; I’ve seen your team play. There’s real chemistry there. You’re aiming for the gold in Rio. Whatever happens, whether or not you make the team, you lot support each other. That’s just how it is. You understand that I’ll do nearly anything Mano wants me to do because I know he’d do the same for me.”
Neela hated being pushed into a corner, especially by the likes of Blake Stanton. They weren’t exactly friends, but they shared a social circle that encompassed both the rugby world and the small town they had grown up in.
Then there was his relationship with Mano. Her cousin didn’t let many people into his life, and Blake was one of the few. She had heard his name often during the last few years, and she was quite sure that if Blake Stanton said he was going to do something, he would. She didn’t doubt he’d follow her or even wait outside her unit all day. That would go over well with the neighborhood once word got out that a famous rugby player was hanging around for no apparent reason.
She decided on a compromise. “I’m going home. You can come back with me if you like, but it isn’t necessary. You can’t stay over, though. My flatmate’s very particular about guests, and our sofa is too narrow.”
“I’m sure I would fit.”
“I doubt it, but it’s a moot point. You’re not staying the night.”
“We’ll see.”
“Blake!”
Blake grinned, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “If I have to sit in the car all night, I will. I don’t break my promises.”
An hour later, as Blake parked the car outside her building, Neela scanned the quiet street for anyone who looked remotely familiar. The Kyle she knew would never be up this early, especially on a Sunday. Or would his ego prompt the unexpected? She didn’t know anymore.
Before she could dwell on the possibility, a sudden rap on the window startled her.
Twelve-year-old Leon Liu was staring unashamedly at the driver of the black sports car that screamed ‘money.’ Neela lowered her window for her upstairs neighbor. “What are you doing out here, Leon? It’s a cool morning, and you’re only wearing a jumper.”
“Just went to the shops to pick up some bread. Mum has one of her headaches,” Leon explained, his eyes still on her companion. “Is that who I think it is?”
Before she could answer, Blake leaned over, an easy smile on his face. “Hiya, mate. You all right?”
Leon raised his hand for a wave. “Hiya. Yeah, I’m fine. You a friend of Neela’s?”
“Yeah. I live with her cousin.”
Leon glanced at her before turning his attention back to Blake. “You live with Mano Palua? That’s a cool house to live in.”
He grinned. “It’s not bad. But only if we win. When we lose, Mano’s a terrible flatmate.”
“Yeah, I bet. Well, I better get the bread back home. Mum gets all weird if she doesn’t start her day with toast.”
“Nice meeting you, mate.”
“You too, Mr. Stanton.”
She watched the boy make his way back to their building.
“You know him well?” Blake asked, his eyes also on Leon’s retreating figure.
“I babysit on occasion. His mother works late at a local restaurant.”
“His dad?”
“Never met him. I’m not sure if he’s around. I don’t ask, and neither Leon nor his mum talks about him. She’s a good mum, and he’s a good kid,” she said as she got out of the car. Rolling her shoulders, she breathed in the fresh morning air.
“How long have you been living here?” Blake asked when they reached the security door.
“About a year,” she replied as she entered the code.
They walked up two flights of stairs and Neela unlocked the door. After Blake had entered the unit, she instinctively looked up and down the stairwell before she locked the door behind her. She exhaled quietly and hoped her thundering heart would calm down quickly.
Blake had made his way to the console near the window. He picked up the picture that had been taken on the night of Mano’s debut on the National Team.
“I remember this,” he said. “He scored two tries that night. He was unstoppable.”
“It was the first time I’d been to Eden Park. Mano flew my parents and me over. I was excited and so nervous. He introduced me to Mitch Molloy, Connor Dane, and Jay Morrison afterward. I couldn’t believe it. Mum said I slept with a smile on my face.”
He put the photo down and picked up the next one: a picture of Mano the night New Zealand had recaptured the world title. He smiled, possibly remembering the thrill of a long-awaited victory. Like the others on the team, Blake had become a national hero that night.
Neela came to stand next to him and looked at the photo in his hand. “That was quite a night. You played full-on for eighty minutes.”
“You were there? You didn’t come over to say hi or something?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I had my own hero to fawn over. Besides, I didn’t know whether you would have remembered me after all those years.”
“You’re one person I would never forget, Neela,” Blake said softly.
Something in his voice made Neela look at him. She wished she hadn’t, as she found herself suddenly caught in an intense look. Whatever he was remembering, she was being swept up in it, and it held on to her. Who was that gir
l you remember, Blake?
She swallowed and dug deep to break the hold his gaze had on her. Refocusing her attention to the picture, she said, “Mano’s embarrassed that I have this out, but I love that shot. He’s never looked more happy or free if that makes sense. He took the Championship seriously.”
She felt him still staring at her but didn’t look up. Then she heard a quiet sigh before he spoke again.
“All the senior members did,” he said. “The difference between how we prepared for the last tournament and the upcoming one is like night and day. There’s always pressure, you know. But in getting ready for Twickenham, it’s a different kind of expectation. This time, it’s really for ourselves.”
“Still like the pressure?”
“Still love the game. And that’s what counts the most.” Blake turned from the console and surveyed the room. “This is nice.”
“Mano found the place for me,” she said. “He introduced me to Corrine. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. She’s sweet. Teaches music at the college.”
Blake’s gaze stopped on the very narrow blue sofa that faced the small TV.
“You are not staying over,” Neela said firmly.
“It’s not that narrow. I could fit.”
She didn’t bother hiding her grin as she shook her head. “Look, you asked to be here, but don’t expect me to entertain you. I don’t need you here, but I also believe you’re hard-headed enough sit outside just to keep a promise.”
“You don’t need to entertain me. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself. Mano, Tim, and I do our own thing most times.”
“Suit yourself. You’re welcomed to put on the telly if you like.”
“If you have the all ingredients, fancy some choc chip cookies?”
Neela knew she looked surprised. She couldn’t help it. Those were the last words she had expected to hear from Blake. “You bake?”
“Yeah. And I promise you, my choc chip cookies will bring you to the brink of ecstasy.”
Neela blinked. “Do you say that to all the girls, Blake?”
“Yeah, I do, actually.”
“Shameless.”
“But it’s true.”
“Well, go ahead, then. Knock yourself out in the kitchen.”
Blake started singing as Neela closed her bedroom door. Again, she shook her head, but this time with a smile on her lips.
* * *
Later, Neela tried very hard to stop from groaning as the first bite of chocolate chip cookie literally melted in her mouth. She couldn’t prevent her eyes from shutting at the onslaught of texture and flavor—chocolate, vanilla, nuts, and was that a hint of cinnamon? —warmed her mouth.
“Not bad, eh?”
Blake was watching her, amusement danced in his eyes.
“These are deadly,” she admitted before taking another bite. This time, she forced herself to keep her eyes open, but a sigh escaped.
“Told you,” he said smugly. “It’s my nan’s recipe, and she said it came from her mother. The ingredients aren’t a surprise. It’s the technique in the mixing that makes the difference.”
Blake’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. The amusement in his face disappeared as he answered the phone. “Hello? Yes, I’m with her. She insisted on going home, so that’s where we are.” He held out his phone to her. “Mano.”
She grimaced but took the phone. “Hey. Where are you?”
“Don’t give Blake a hard time. You and I need to talk about what happened,” Mano said.
“Nothing happened.”
“Look at your arm and say that again.”
Neela threw Blake a suspicious look. He offered her another cookie as if he had sensed the reason for her ire.
He was always such a dibber-dobber.
She took the cookie, bit into it, then returned her attention to Mano. “Okay, I’ll admit that Kyle was a little rough. But I’m fine. Yes, I was lucky Blake was there. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“You promised you wouldn’t see him again, especially without me.”
“I met him because he promised he wouldn’t come to my building again. I thought it’d be safe at a pub that’s always full of people. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t have met him alone. And I don’t like having a babysitter, so you can let Blake off the hook by telling him he can go home.”
“No.”
“He won’t fit on my sofa!” she yelled. “I’m fine. I was in a little bit of a shock last night. It’s been almost a year since I last saw Kyle. I’ve learned my lesson, Mano. I won’t let him come near me again.”
“Let Blake stay with you girls tonight. I can speak to Corrine if you like. She won’t mind.”
“I’m sure Blake has more important things to do than be here with me. Tell him to go home.”
“I haven’t forgotten what you went through that night. Kyle could have really hurt you.”
She responded with silence.
Her automatic rejection of his statement didn’t come as easily as it would have a year ago. She had since learned to face those demons, to accept the truth. She hadn’t forgotten that night either. She could still feel Mano’s gentle hands as he lifted her off the floor and wiped the blood from her face. The anger and sadness in his eyes that night would forever be seared in her memory.
Recognizing that she was the cause of his pain and fury woke her from the cloud of denial she had created for herself. She had never thought of herself as a victim. Victims were weak. She was strong. Her mother taught her that. She was raised to be strong.
“Neela? Are you still there?” Mano asked.
She felt Blake’s eyes on her and blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill. She wasn’t going to cry in front of Blake again. Far too many tears have already been shed because of Kyle.
“I’ve moved on, Mano.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Promise me you’ll let Blake keep you company until I arrive.”
“Flying to Auckland is overreacting.”
“RugNZ needs me there by the end of the week anyway. This just pushes things up by a few days.”
“Margot?”
“Her parents are with her. She’s doing well and is comfortable. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
Neela looked at Blake. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a thumbs-up. She rolled her eyes, which only made his cheeky grin grow wider. “He can stay today, Mano. Only today. I have a say in how I want to live my life, okay?”
She tossed the phone back at Blake before she walked to the kitchen. She opened the fridge, found the milk, and reached for the large tin of Milo in the kitchen cupboard. Today called for chocolate. Lots of it. She could hear Blake talking but couldn’t distinguish his words.
“So, we both agree that I’m here because of Mano?” he asked as he entered the kitchen.
Neela poured the milk into a mug then shut the microwave door. “We shouldn’t let him bully us. I’m related to him, so I can’t quite escape him. Why are you living with him? You’ve got money. Don’t you want your own place, something really fancy, with a view of the water or something?”
“How often does one get a chance to live with a legend? He took me under his wing and kept me straight about dealing with everything that comes with being on the National Team. I’m not perfect, but one thing I’ve always known is to stick close to those with experience.”
“Are you going to move out when he retires?”
“Or if he and Margot get married first.”
Neela smiled at the thought. “Do you think they’re talking about it?”
“You know your cousin. He doesn’t say much. But it’s something he wants with her.”
The microwave sounded. Neela reached for the mug and began scooping Milo into the warmed milk. “Would she agree, you think?”
Blake gave her a lopsided grin. “I don’t see why not. He’s not a bad catch. They’re perfect for each other.”
She sighed. “They are. Some couples are just that
way, aren’t they? Is that the way it is with you and your latest? What’s her name?”
He looked surprised at the question. “Lindsay.”
“She seems nice.”
“Yeah, she’s good.”
“You don’t think she’d be worried about you spending the night with another girl?”
“She’s in Los Angeles visiting her mum.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Blake,” Neela grinned.
“We’re not doing anything that would make her upset.”
“How long have you two been together now?”
“Almost two months, I think. Do you know her?”
“No, but she comes across well in the media. Not like that other girl you saw for a while. The redhead? She loved all the attention.”
“Carla was all right.”
“I understand that the exclusive she gave on your breakup was a good read. The magazine was sold out the day the story came out.”
Blake crossed his arms as he shrugged. “She checked in with me before she agreed to talk to the reporter.”
“You didn’t mind?”
“I trusted her to tell the truth about our relationship, and for the most part, it was a fair account about why we broke up.” Blake shrugged again. “She’s a nice girl, hard worker. What they offered her for the story gave her a bit of a break with her finances. Everyone could use a hand once in a while, eh?”
Neela pushed over the mug of Milo. “Here. Unless you want something else?”
Blake grinned. “I was hoping you’d share.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You didn’t when we were twelve. At the end-of-school-year picnic, remember? You took the last Choc Cherry, and I asked if we could share.”
Neela snorted. “No one in their right mind shares a Choc Cherry! And why do you remember such odd things?”
“Some things I don’t forget. My first try at school, being invited to the National Team, winning the World Championship, and not getting a Choc Cherry when I was desperate for one.”
She put another mug of milk in the microwave. “Your family left for England after that picnic.”
“Yeah. Dad was stationed there for four years.”
“What was that like?”
Always You Page 4