Most of their childhood friends had apparently signed up for roles as extras, and in between filming, Neela and Blake found themselves being reacquainted with faces and names neither of them had seen or heard in over a decade.
During an early lunch, they discussed two simple action sequences to present to Martin, and after a brief conversation with the Pastall’s representative, they decided to go for a shot of a straightforward tackle. After a few practices and time to allow Martin to position the lights and cameras, they were ready for the actual shoot.
“Right. Let’s do this for real,” Blake said to Neela. She nodded, and he smiled, squeezing her upper arm before he turned to Martin. “Get this on the first go, Martin. If you miss it, I promise you, whatever we do afterward will never be as good. I’m coming at her at full speed.”
Neela suddenly felt nervous. On the first go? “Blake—”
“What’s the matter? Is a silver medalist afraid of a world champion?”
The nervous first-time actress disappeared, and the competitor returned. “You wish,” Neela murmured, hands on her hips.
Blake grinned. “You know how to play. You know where to go.”
“Shut up. Don’t tell me how to do my job.”
His laughter followed her as she walked to the marker. She could hear Martin in the background yelling last-minute instructions about light and angles. She glanced over her shoulder. Most of the extras from the morning shoot had chosen to stay and watch.
More eyes on her.
“Like when we were twelve!” Blake yelled, now several meters away. He casually tossed the ball in his hand, an easy grin on his face, and nodded encouragingly.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Stop thinking, she commanded herself. Be that scared-of-nothing twelve-year-old who dominated the field over every rugby player at school, both boys and girls. Forget the cameras. It’s about technique and heart.
“Action!”
She reached down to touch the grass and brought the scent back to her nose. She inhaled deeply, then kept her body low and turned her shoulders slightly in. She watched Blake’s feet and gauged the speed he’d reach in a matter of seconds. She knew he’d be true to his word, that this would be real. When he was within range, she launched herself at his body automatically, and her arms encircled his waist while she used the full strength of her legs to pull him down.
She heard a gasp from the sidelines as their bodies hit the ground simultaneously.
She automatically rolled around to stand up and reached for the still-lying-down Blake. He took her arm but didn’t let go once he was on his feet. Instead, he pulled her close to him, their bodies now in full contact. Her hands were splayed against his chest as he snuck one arm around her waist, holding her as close to him as they’d ever been.
Heat exploded where her body was touching his. Everything and everyone else disappeared. Had the director yelled “Cut!” yet?
It didn’t matter. She was lost in his eyes.
“You did that way better than when you were twelve.”
She felt goosebumps erupt on her arms as he tucked loose hair behind her ears, a lingering caress behind an earlobe she hadn’t known was so sensitive.
She was still breathing hard from the exertion, or so she tried to convince herself. “Thanks. You’re heavier than when you were twelve.”
Blake threw his head back in a loud laugh, then kissed her on the temple. He covered her shoulders with his arm as they walked toward the enthusiastic group of spectators on the sidelines.
Martin came running toward them. “That was good! Very good! You got some of the PAs sighing with that last look you two gave each other. You were right, Blake. We got the shot we need. I think we’re done in record time. Money saved makes everyone happy.” Martin turned to Neela. “You’re a natural on screen. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first of many commercials for you, young lady.”
“Thanks. Are you sure you don’t need us to do this again? Because I’d be happy to give it another go.”
“No, I don’t think we could recreate that chemistry again. It’s really good! The rep from Pastall’s loved what we got. We’re good! It’s all good!”
Blake pulled Neela closer and kissed the top of her head. “You heard the man. Sometimes the real thing only needs to happen once.”
Neela turned her head toward Blake’s chest. Her arms were somehow already around his waist. “We’re still talking about the commercial, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but it applies to a lot in life, don’t you think?”
“Kiss her, already!”
Neela glared at Tim, who had his phone focused on them.
“And hurry up!” Tim continued. “I want to get the first viral video of the year. Blake beat me last year.”
There were a lot of hugs and final requests for autographs and selfies from the crowd when filming was complete. Amidst the happy chaos, something made Neela look toward the far end of the field. Her throat tightened, and a shiver ran down her spine. A lone figure was leaning against the last post of the fence. His face wasn’t distinguishable from that distance, but she’d recognize his posture anywhere. He was staring at her. Then, as if he was satisfied that she had seen him, he turned and walked toward a motorbike parked close by.
Kyle.
“What’s wrong?” Blake’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“You tensed up.” He searched behind her. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
Neela broke out of Blake’s hold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He caught up with her in half a step, his face a study of controlled emotions. She knew that face. It was the face he had on the field, ready to battle, determined to win.
“The last time you looked like that was after our run last year. You suddenly went stiff and blocked me out,” he said.
“Forget about it, Blake.”
He pulled on her arm to stop her walking. But he didn’t hold on, allowing her the choice to keep moving. She swallowed, crossed her arms but kept her gaze down.
“Neela, you can trust me. Talk to me. Something made you freeze up.”
She sighed. “I’ve got to go. The girls have a catch-up tonight.”
He called after her. “Call me when you get home. I just want to know you’re safe.”
Neela bit down on her lip. She’d heard his concern. She nodded but avoided his eyes.
She started jogging to the trailer where her clothes were. The magic of the afternoon was gone. Her little step back into a time when life had been near-perfect was over. That part of her life was done, never to be reclaimed again.
But that wasn’t quite true. A different past had emerged, and she knew he was waiting for her.
Fifteen minutes later, after quick goodbyes to family, she got on her bike. Surrounded by fans, she felt Blake’s eyes on her as she rode past him. Judging by the size of the crowd, she expected him to be there for at least another half an hour.
He wasn’t the only one who was watching her leave. Tim, leaning against the hood of Blake’s car, also studied her movements. She raised a hand, and he returned her acknowledgment with a nod. Then she revved the engine and rode away from the school.
The sound of Kyle’s bike coming up behind her wasn’t unexpected. He passed her with a quick look. A hand signal indicated he wanted—expected—her to follow him. Her jaw clenched, and adrenaline roared through her body. She heard the faster pace of her breathing, its uneven tempo echoing through her brain.
She revved her engine and rode to his side. This time she met his gaze and shook her head.
No more.
She was never going to follow him. They needed to talk but on her terms.
She went ahead of him but kept her bike at a speed that showed him she wasn’t going to outrun him. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked following a woman. Even when they rode in a group, he was at the front of the pack. She used to think it was because
he was a natural leader. Now she knew better.
He came up next to her, then moved his bike ahead by a couple of meters. She didn’t push; she was mentally calculating a place to stop so they could have the conversation he wanted. It had to be in public. A sober Kyle was intimidating, but a drunk Kyle was a trap.
She spotted an exit that led to a convenience store not too far off the main street. It was popular with day-trippers and was seldom empty. She edged her bike up a little and raised her hand to indicated she was going to go off the highway.
As she’d hoped, cars were lined up at the pumping stations. A couple was pulled off to the side, their occupants standing by, drinks in hand. Neela rode to a corner that was private but not isolated. Her screams could be heard if Kyle tried anything.
He was right behind her but chose to park in front of her, blocking any chance of an escape.
She held the cry that came close to spilling out. Her hands shook. She clasped them together, wanting to control that visible sign of her fear. She shoved them into the pockets of her jacket when she couldn’t stop the shaking. Helmet still on, she watched Kyle remove his. He smirked as he leaned over the front of his bike, but she expected the eyes hidden behind sunglasses to be cold and assessing.
“Surprised you didn’t try to outrun me,” Kyle said.
She shrugged. “No point. You were always the better rider than me. You’d catch up.”
“Glad you remembered that.”
“What do you want, Kyle? My final payment isn’t due for another week. You know I’m never late.”
“I was on a bit of a holiday. Between jobs. You know how it is. Saw you were filming a commercial. Big bucks in that, isn’t it?”
“You’re getting most of it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not a cheat. I’m only asking for what’s mine.”
Neela bit back a string of epithets, fear and rage building inside her. “You’re getting what’s yours. You had no business being at the school today.”
“The papers said it was an open set. I wasn’t breaking any laws. When did you get so uptight about things, eh, little one?”
“Don’t call me that.”
Kyle laughed and straightened up. He looked around before putting his helmet back on. Then he turned to her, his voice now low. “I’ll call you whatever I want. And I’ll do whatever the hell I want. Piss off, Neela. Don’t get it into your little head that you decide things for me, understand?”
He made a point of spinning his back wheel enough to leave a blanket of dust in her face.
She remained on her bike after Kyle disappeared from her sight. Fear rooted her to the spot. The taste of blood on her bottom lip started a shaking that transferred from her hands to the rest of her body. Then it was hard to breathe.
She reached up to pull off her helmet and threw it onto the ground as she fell off her bike. The bike toppled from the suddenness of her actions, its loud thud capturing the attention of those around.
The voices that accompanied the concerned faces of strangers seemed so far away. She stared at them blankly, unable to understand the words they were offering.
“You all right?”
“She looks like she’s in shock.”
“Should we call the ambulance, Mum?”
“No!” Neela cried. “It’s all right. I just didn’t have enough to drink. Sorry. I’m dehydrated. That was silly of me.”
“Matt, get her some water!” instructed the woman.
A bottle was thrust in front of Neela in a matter of seconds. From the corner of her eye, she watched a couple of young guys lift her bike up effortlessly.
“Maybe you should get you inside, darl,” said the same woman.
Neela met her eyes. Kind, gentle brown eyes... like Mum’s. Tears sprung up, but she brushed them away quickly. “No, no, I’m all right.” She accepted the arm of one of the younger men. “I’m sorry for the trouble. It just hit me.”
The woman nodded. “Yeah, dehydration can do that to you. One minute you’re all right...”
“And the next, you’ve fallen off your bike,” said the younger of the two men.
“Well, you make sure you take a breather before you start your ride again. Have you got far to go?” asked the woman.
Neela shook her head. “Only another half an hour.”
“Well, that’s good, then. But drink up. You gave us quite the scare!” She studied Neela, a small smile forming on her face. “Your color’s coming back. Promise me you’ll sit for a bit before you get on that bike again.”
Neela smiled weakly. “I will. Thank you for your help. You’re very kind.”
“Of course, darl.”
She kept her word, but it wasn’t a choice to stay put. She just couldn’t move.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It had been a crap start to the New Year. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. In a month, he’d be named the new captain of the National Team. The Club team was looking particularly strong with the new signings. Pre-season training would start in a week, and his ankle seemed as good as new.
But he still felt like crap ever since Boxing Day.
Blake thought of the picture Leila had posted on her Twitter account this morning. It was of the Sevens team on their way to a stadium in Sydney for the start of a tournament. Neela was staring into the camera from the back row of the bus, her eyes bright. No fire in them yet; that would come when she got on the pitch.
He shouldn’t be annoyed that Neela continued to avoid being on social media. It was probably the saner option in a life that was becoming far too digitalized. But how was he supposed to know what she was up to if she never posted anything? He was left with following her via the team’s official account and those of her teammates.
His brothers would have laughing fits if they knew how desperate he was for news of her. Blake smiled as he remembered her face when she’d opened his promised Christmas gift of Milo tins. If he hadn’t realized how much he loved her before, he would have recognized the emotion in that instant.
It hit him so hard that he almost forgot to breathe. She had the widest smile, and her beautiful brown eyes had lit up as a deep laugh erupted. Lulu had caught the infectious sound and joined the giggling. It had been a moment of pure joy that he knew he’d remember all his life.
Neela had him, and he didn’t care. He knew he had to give her space. He could wait, but waiting wasn’t the concern. What he was worried about was her running away. Unlike the player who was part of a dominating team, Neela off the field was harder to understand. She had built walls around her heart. Should he burst through them or wait for her to open a hidden door that would let him in?
Blake glanced at the GPS on the dashboard. He had taken an alternate route to Mitch Molloy’s house today since he had an extra hour to kill. It wouldn’t be too long before his schedule became packed again, and aimless long drives would have to wait until the end of the season. When Tim called last night to ask for a lift back from his brother’s, Blake had agreed readily. Besides, he still owed Tim a favor for delivering the lollies.
He pulled his car in behind Mitch’s SUV and headed to the doorway of a red brick house in a regular middle-class suburban neighborhood. No fancy mansions for Mitch or Liana. Few would suspect that behind such simple walls lived a couple who were each an icon in their respective sport.
Blake heard a familiar scream, a sound that elicited a smile. He rang the doorbell.
Tim swung the door open with force. “You’re late!”
“It’s barely past nine, mate.”
“She’s killing me.”
“What?”
“Duck!”
But Blake caught the foam ball and threw it back at the little girl with an odd-shaped shooter. “You missed —”
The words were barely out of his mouth when another foam ball hit his forehead.
Tim burst out laughing, falling backward over the sofa in the living room as Jayne Molloy screamed, “Aha! Got you! I
’ve killed all the monsters in the house!”
Blake shook his head but couldn’t stop smiling. He looked over at Tim, who was still shaking with laughter. “How long have you been at it?”
“I’ve been going for cover for an hour.”
“She started early.”
“It didn’t end from last night. Woke up with my two front toes tied.”
“Don’t you have anything to defend yourself with?”
“She stole it. It’s actually my shooter she’s using now.”
Having had his fair share of babysitting Jayne Molloy, Blake had no doubt that that was precisely what had happened. Blake was convinced that Jayne would either follow in her mother’s footsteps and break glass ceilings or end up in jail. The child had no fear.
He was just glad he could observe all this from the sidelines.
“Mitch around?”
“In the back, putting the finishing touches on the ramp.”
Blake whistled. “I still can’t believe Liana let him build it. Jayne, skateboard, and ramps sound like a dangerous combination.”
Tim grinned, getting up from the sofa. “It is. But Mitch used the feminist card on Liana. You know: ‘If we had a boy, would you say no?’ Liana never has an answer for that. Let me get my things. Fifteen minutes?”
Blake found his former captain in the backyard, on his back, with a screwdriver.
“You’re in my sun, Stanton.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your socks.”
Blake looked down at his choice of socks for the day: light blue with green flowers. “Your daughter gave them to me at Christmas.”
“I know. I had to pay for them.”
Mitch got up and reached for a leveler, then placed it on the platform. He eyed it and seemed satisfied with the measurement. He looked at Blake. “What you reckon? Will it hold Jayne Molloy on a skateboard?”
Blake jumped onto the ramp and pressed hard with his feet to test the strength. Solid. He jumped again. Nothing moved. “I give it a month,” he told Mitch.
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