Always You

by Tiara Inserto

  “Would you? That would be great.”

  Neela took one more look at her bag. She would have a little bit of time to throw in any last-minute items afterward. Otherwise, there were shops in Dubai. She was anxious to get out of the house, and a quick ride seemed the perfect solution to her usual pre-travel anxiety.

  When she pulled into the Club’s carpark, Scott walked out of the Club building. He was dressed casually, but he had a severe expression on his face as he talked on the phone.

  She turned off her bike, her actions attracting Scott’s attention.

  When she took off her helmet, she recognized the surprise that came over his face. This wasn’t the first time people had been caught out by the sight of her on a motorbike.

  “May I call you back in five minutes? I’ll have to pull those numbers for you. Thanks!” Scott said. He smiled widely at Neela as he ended his call. “I didn’t know you rode. I do, too. I knew we’d have a lot of things in common.”

  “That’s one thing.”

  “It’s a good start, don’t you think?” Scott grinned. He reached for the brown envelope Neela held out for him. “Fantastic. Do you have any other questions?”

  “No. Mano went over it with me, and if he’s satisfied, then I know it’s good,” Neela said. “I’m still surprised at the money. I won’t lie. It’ll be nice to have a little extra.”

  “You’ll earn it. And Blake made sure it was equal.”

  Neela’s head jerked up. “What?”

  “It’s something he’s always insisted on whenever he does a campaign with other people. Everyone gets the same amount. It’s part of his contract,” Scott said. “Don’t tell him I said so, but he’s one of the good blokes in the world. Always fair and disgustingly honest.”

  Scott’s phone buzzed. He gave Neela an apologetic look, then frowned when he saw the number. “May I ask another favor? I really need to take this call. I was supposed to meet Blake on the field. Could you ask him if he could meet me at my car? I think this call may take more than a few minutes.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Yeah. The players take turns helping out with the after-school camp. Part of the Club’s community outreach program.”

  Neela glanced at the gates leading to the field. “No worries.”

  “Thanks, Neela. Dinner sometime, eh? To thank you and to celebrate us working together?”

  “That would be nice. Nothing fancy, though.”

  “We’ll see. Good luck in Dubai.”

  She walked towards the pitch, where the gates were open for the afternoon. She could see two, maybe three, different groups of children, with at least two adults overseeing a drill in each group. She walked behind some people she assumed were parents. They were watching the activity in front of them very keenly, some of them commenting among themselves. Cameras and phones were out in abundance. Neela found an empty spot and rested her arm against the metal rail of the chain-link fence.

  She spotted Blake quickly, dressed in the Club’s off-pitch uniform of a maroon polo shirt and black shorts. Wearing a baseball cap and sunnies, he looked like every other player and coach. But she’d recognize those shoulders anywhere. He shouted out directions to the group he was working with.

  Neela studied the players in Blake’s group. They must have been about twelve or thirteen years old. They listened intently. Judging by their enthusiastic and energetic attempts, each child was eager to impress the local heroes who were present.

  She would have loved the opportunity to learn from a professional when she was that age. But the infrastructure RugNZ had in place now was still in its infancy when she was a child, and girls weren’t the target group back then.

  A whistle blew at the far end of the field, signaling the end of the day’s practice.

  The young players began to move toward their respective coaches. Blake checked his clipboard before he gave what would be the final speech for the day. Whatever was said, the participants cheered loudly, and it was another ten minutes of photo-taking and autographs before the pitch began to clear.

  As the students began to disperse, Neela walked onto the field, pulling a blade of grass as she did so. A young boy approached her for an autograph.

  “Thanks, Neela,” he said as she signed. “You’re a legend.”

  “You’re most welcome. And keep at it. Have fun with the sport.” She gave him a final wave as she watched her new fan run to a waiting parent.

  Blake was in discussion with one of the Club coaches when she reached him.

  “Hiya! What are you doing here?” he asked and moved to kiss her on the cheek.

  Neela prided herself on standing still instead of ducking. She ignored her disappointment that it was nothing more than a cursory peck. She smiled instead, resting her sunglasses on her head so she could meet Blake’s eyes. “I just dropped off my contract with Scott. He had to take a call and asked that you meet him in the carpark.”

  Blake turned his head toward the gates. “That’s right. I forgot I was supposed to meet some of his new clients. Glad you and I don’t have a date, eh?”

  “Would you have canceled on him or on me?”

  Blake feigned a wounded look that made Neela smile, “Darl, you first. Always.”

  She knew he was teasing, but that didn’t stop the blush she felt creeping up her neck.

  “Did you ride over? I’ll walk you to your bike if you have a few minutes,” Blake said as he began to pick up the first of a line of fluorescent cones on the field. They walked toward a stocky figure collecting the various equipment that had been used in today’s training. “Do you know Jim Wilson? He’s in charge of youth development and community outreach at our club,” he said as they reached the remaining figure on the field. “Jim, Neela Smyth.”

  Neela shook Jim’s hand. “Hi. Looks like a great program you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks. Very good to meet you, Neela,” Jim said. “We hope we can get a couple of the ladies from the Sevens to come out for one of our summer camps one of these days.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble trying to convince us,” Neela said. “We’ve got to get the next generation ready.”

  She appreciated Jim’s questions. It was apparent he loved the sport and had a real passion for sharing it with both boys and girls. As they parted company, she agreed to a follow-up conversation with Jim after her trip.

  “What do you have to do until you leave tonight? Sure you don’t have time for a quick drink with Scott and me?” Blake asked as he bent to pick up a ball.

  “I still have to finish packing, for one.”

  Blake grinned. “Yeah, I’m a last-minute packer myself. Before I forget, I hope you don’t mind, but I just found out today that I have to change our second date. We—my family—are celebrating Mum’s birthday a week earlier than usual. Dad suddenly decided he wanted to go on a little holiday with her. Just the two of them.”

  She swallowed the disappointment that threatened to show on her face. “That’s very sweet. No worries. We got plenty of attention with the first date.”

  “Yeah. Tim was right. As a couple, people find us interesting.”

  “Let me know when you want to reschedule.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you want to keep the date but go with me to the birthday party.”

  She stopped abruptly. Meet his family? “Are you sure? How does this help get the kind of attention you need?”

  Blake tossed the ball in her direction. She caught it with one hand. “Mum’s friends are fairly active on the social media scene,” he explained. “Trust me, if there’s something that needs to be publicized, you won’t find a better party to go to. Besides, she’s been wanting to meet you again.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Mum’s never quite believed we’ve never spent any time together, especially since I live with Mano.

  “Why would that be odd?”

  Blake shrugged. “Well, Mum thinks that all rugby players know each other. L
ike she thinks just because Andrew is in IT that he should know Mark Zuckerberg.”

  Neela frowned, remembering the cover of a magazine from a few months back. “I thought he did.”

  “They only just met. Bad example. Anyway, now that there are a few photos of us floating out there in cyberspace, I can’t pretend I don’t know you anymore.”

  “Are you going to tell her the truth about what we’re doing?”

  “I told her we’re friends, and I won’t say more.”

  “But you won’t tell her the complete truth.”

  “Do you tell everyone everything, Neela?”

  She tossed the ball back at Blake. He caught it and stopped to face her.

  “Well?” he insisted.

  The wind picked up suddenly, and loose strands of her hair covered part of her face. Before she could push them away, his fingers gently brushed them aside, tucking them behind her ear. It was a barely-there touch, but one that sparked a tingling sensation that swept through her body.

  Neela swallowed. He was now close enough that she could see the light flecks of gold in his brown eyes—eyes that were framed by lashes that no man should have but most women would pay for. He had perfected the use of those eyes in countless photo shoots, but now that they were in front of her, staring at her so intently, she could finally admit to their potent hold on her.

  A year ago, she had sensed his ability to get past her defenses, to see beyond the tough image she displayed as a rugby player. Why wasn’t she resisting? She knew what could happen if anyone had that much power over her.

  Blake raised the ball between their faces, his eyes peering over its top.

  “No,” she whispered. “Not always.”

  “Will you always tell me the truth?”

  She reached for the ball, but he didn’t let go. He hadn’t blinked. Neither had she. “I’ll try.”

  He wanted a better response to his question. Neela recognized the face in front of her. It was the one he put on when playing. He wasn’t going to back down from getting a full answer.

  She took a deep breath. “Everyone is allowed some secrets.”

  He studied her, but his eyes were no longer searching or demanding. He nodded slowly.

  “Fair enough. That’s an honest answer,” he said softly. He released the ball and smiled, easing the tension between them. This was once again the face she could deal with, the casual, relaxed look that was reminiscent of their shared childhood.

  They resumed their walk to the gates. “I best give you fair warning,” Blake went on. “People tend to dress up at Mum’s parties, but don’t feel like you need to go out and get something special.”

  “How fancy will it be?”

  “No one will be in their gym shorts, I can promise you that.”

  “Very helpful.”

  When they reached the carpark, Neela spotted Scott still on the phone but inside his car, with papers in front of him. His wild gesticulation mirrored the movements of a conductor at the symphony.

  Blake followed her line of sight. “He can be a bit aggressive, but he’s a good bloke to have in your corner.”

  “You’ve known him long?”

  He nodded. “Since university. He loves most sport but can’t run, throw or catch to save his life. He’s even fairly hopeless at fishing.”

  “Well, we all have our talents.”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” he said, his dimple showing. “I guess you’d better be off soon, or you’ll arrive in Wellington with nothing more than your uniforms.”

  Neela laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “That’d be me too. Dressing for work goes against every style choice I’d make personally. There are so many colors to choose from, and we stick to black and white.”

  “They’re our national colors.”

  “I know. But a little pink or purple never hurt anyone.”

  Neela giggled, and an odd look passed over Blake’s face. “What?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Nothing. I’ll pick you up the Saturday after you get back? Around four o’clock?”

  “That works.”

  Neela knew she was holding her breath when Blake leaned forward. Her heartbeat doubled the moment she felt his lips make contact with her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut; her nostrils swelled. She inhaled the intoxicating mix of sweat and masculine scent of the man in front of her.

  When their gazes met, she saw that he was equally affected by what should have been chaste contact, except her body was demanding more. She squeezed her fists tight, resisting the need to pull him close so she could fully experience what his lips promised.

  “I’d normally say ‘good luck,’ but I know you don’t need it,” Blake said, his voice low and husky. Would he sound like that in a dark room, his breath on her skin? “You’ll be amazing, as always.”

  “Thanks.”

  For a second, neither of them said anything. Her eyes strayed to his mouth, and she had to force herself to turn around. But she knew he was watching her as she made her way to her bike.

  Get a grip, Neela. This is just Blake. No need to go all weak in the knees.

  It was just Blake. He wasn’t her type. Never had been; never would be. He flirted, and he smiled too much. He was a ladies’ man—except he was showing her that he wasn’t. He was still friends with his ex-girlfriends, even shared recipes with them.

  What sort of man continued to be liked by his ex-girlfriends?

  A good one.

  Neela reached for her helmet, then straddled her bike.

  She knew that voice. It came from her heart. It was the same one that had told her to trust Kyle, to let him decide things for her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A few days after the team’s return from Dubai, Neela stared at her reflection in the mirror. She leaned in closer and second-guessed her decision to dismiss Leila’s offer to help hide the bruise on her cheekbone. She sighed. She’d probably be more conscious about it under makeup than exposed. She wouldn’t be sorry for it, though; it was the result of her stopping a try in the finals.

  The security door buzzed, and Neela heard Leila call out that she’d get it. She looked at the clock on her side table, which told her that he was right on time. Ignoring the bruise, she resumed tightening the screws of the pearl studs her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, then took one more look in the mirror.

  This is going to be as good as it gets. It’s not a date. It’s just a night out with a friend.

  But the butterflies in the pit of her stomach were still there. It was one thing to pretend in front of her friends; it was another thing entirely to actually meet her fake boyfriend’s family. Too late now. “Nee-lake”— or “the champion rugby couple,” as one reporter had titled them — was already featured in various entertainment shows and articles, much to Leila’s amusement.

  Neela reached for her brown clutch, made sure she had her phone then walked out to the living room to meet Blake.

  He smiled when she entered the room. Her heart raced in reaction to his approval at her appearance. That bloody dimple appeared again.

  “You look nice,” Blake said.

  “Best I’ve seen her look in a year,” Leila confirmed. “This must be something special, for her to clean up like that.”

  Neela shot Leila an irritated glare that only caused her friend to laugh loudly.

  “Thanks. You do too,” Neela said, hopeful that her voice was carefully moderated.

  Blake was dressed in brown khakis and a blue sports coat. His cream-colored button-down shirt was unusually conservative for him. Then she took a closer look at the buttons and grinned.

  “Where on earth did you find a shirt that has butterflies as buttons?”

  “Butterfly buttons are everywhere.”

  “Not on men’s dress shirts.”

  “Easy enough to find.”

  “You had the original buttons replaced, didn’t you?”

  “So I asked. No harm in that.”
r />   “Okay, you two,” interrupted Leila.” How about a picture?”

  Neela groaned.

  “Oh, come on. My sister really wants to see this. Blake said it’d be okay to post it to her,” Leila said.

  Neela bit back a retort on what Leila could really do with the picture. But this was all part of the plan to be seen. “Okay. Just don’t make it a silly one.”

  “Would I do that?’

  “Yes!”

  Blake laughed and put his arm around Neela’s waist. He angled his head close to her ear. “You smell nice. Is that perfume?”

  “No. Just your good old-fashioned over-the-counter soap.” She risked looking at him, their faces inches from one another.

  His gaze stayed on the bruise on her cheek before he met her eyes again. “You make the soap smell really good,” he whispered.

  The flash from Leila’s phone surprised them both, and when the spots disappeared, Neela was greeted by Leila’s mischievous grin. “That was perfect! My sister will be so jealous! Don’t hurry back. Just let me know if you decided not to come back at all, yeah?”

  “Leila!”

  As they walked out of the building, Blake asked about her time in Dubai.

  “It was pretty perfect. We’re always glad for a win, but it was especially nice to get a bit of revenge from the Summer Games,” Neela admitted. “As proud as I am of the silver medal, I wanted the gold.”

  She frowned when he stopped in front of a black sports car and unlocked it. “Where’s your ute? The one we drove in to the Esplanade.”

  “At home. This will be more comfortable on longer drives.”

  She surveyed the meticulously kept interior, briefly touching the polished wood veneer before she put her seatbelt on. Memories from a year ago surfaced. “Wasn’t this what you were driving in Auckland?”

  “Yes. It was Andrew’s then. He was ready to move on to the next model, so I bought this from him.”

  “It’s pretty flash.”

  “He bought it because of the technology in it. Trust me, it could look like something from the 1950s on the outside, and he wouldn’t care. It’s all about what the engineers do inside.” Blake pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Can you smell that?”