I knelt down, the metal kit clanging against the floor beside me. I hate this part. I’m sorry, Emily. ‘I’m just going to take your hand for a second and change those Band-Aids.’
Emily flashed me a look that was definitely grouchy.
‘Come on, possum. You know Zoe has to do this,’ her father cajoled. ‘And if you stopped scratching at it …’
If she stopped scratching at it, I wouldn’t have to change the dressing so often, and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But you couldn’t use that kind of logic on a child, especially when this was a pain she could access, an itch she could scratch—and when there was so much other hurt ravaging her body, could anyone really deny her that?
‘Oh, you have Band-Aids there?’ Sawyer looked at me with wide eyes, over-animated. ‘I got a cut on my hand. Think you could hook me up, too?’
Emily’s little mouth rounded in an O as she looked from her hero to me and back again. ‘We can get Band-Aids together.’
‘We sure can.’ Sawyer focused on me. ‘As long as Zoe says it’s alright.’
Sweet. It was actually very sweet of him.
‘I’m sure I can do that for you, Sawyer. I’m just going to take Emily’s Band-Aid off first.’ I took the little girl’s hand and rubbed at a corner of the plaster. It was already loose, so it came off with ease.
Underneath, her skin was red, raw. Maybe I should leave it open for a while, let some air get to it. I knew the antibacterial cream was the best thing for it, but there was something about fresh air on a wound that I just couldn’t fight against.
‘I might do Sawyer’s sore next.’ I smiled up at him. Green eyes smiled down at me. ‘Tell me, Sawyer, where does it hurt?’
‘Right here.’ Sawyer pointed to the middle of his hand, identical in location to the wound on Emily’s.
‘Got it.’ After disposing of the old Band-Aid in the bin, I took a cotton ball and dabbed some antibacterial cream on it before applying it to Sawyer’s hand.
I looked up. He stared down at me, and suddenly, I was aware of just how intimate this felt. I was close to him, far closer than we had been in the hall, with his body looming over mine, his hand so close to my breast.
My skin prickled. How long had it been since I’d knelt in front of a man like this? Since I’d touched a man’s hand in anything more than a clinical manner, for pleasure instead of purpose, hoping he’d touch me back?
No.
I snapped my gaze to his hand. What on earth had I been thinking?
His hand was big in mine. Steady. His fingers were long, and as I gently stroked the supposedly injured spot, then applied a Band-Aid over the top, I heaved a sigh of relief. Done. It was finished.
‘Now it’s your turn,’ I said to Emily, adding a silent ‘thank goodness’ at the end.
‘Let me tell you about how I got started playing football,’ Sawyer said and, grateful for the distraction, I set to work, paying close attention to Emily’s wound.
Soon, the job was done, and I snapped the lid to the first-aid kit closed before placing it back in the safe
‘Zoe likes football,’ Emily said as I turned the lock.
‘I do.’ I smiled. ‘I play Aussie Rules every Tuesday night.’
‘Ever thought about going pro?’ Sawyer asked.
Emily burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Girls don’t play professional football.’
‘Hey.’ I frowned, walking over and straightening the covers on her bed. ‘I’ll have you know they do. There’s even a professional women’s league now.’
Emily eyed me, as if doubting my story, then turned to Sawyer for confirmation.
‘There sure is.’
‘Zoe, you should play.’ Emily beamed up at me.
‘Ha! I’m not that good.’
‘Zoe, play.’ Her face turned serious, a near scowl twisting her lips. He is so cute.
I’d do anything to make her smile, but I couldn’t do that.
‘Oh, Emily. I just play for fun.’ I shrugged and sat next to her on the floor. ‘Besides, if I did play, I wouldn’t have as much time to read books here with you.’
Her lower lip started to wobble again, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of me spending less time with her or my reluctance to join a professional league she knew nothing about. Either way, my heart tugged. Poor little thing. Not for the first time, I wanted to clothe her body in bubble wrap and protect her from everything bad in the world.
It’s a shame even bubble wrap won’t protect her against her problems.
Chapter 6
Sawyer
The kid was cute.
More than that.
She was sweet, too. Like a poster child for Reasons You Should Procreate, smiling up at me from the corduroy couch she shared with her dad.
Maybe if I’d taken Ava to see her, she’d have stuck around longer.
‘Okay, well, I better get going. You let me know if you need anything, okay?’ Zoe looked to Emily and her father in turn.
‘I should go too.’ I waved goodbye.
Emily flew into my body, her little hands wrapped around my leg. What a sweet kid. I leaned over, hugging her close. Poor little thing.
‘There’s a bag at reception for each kid with a bunch of signed stuff.’ I nodded to Emily’s father, and he smiled, snapping photos with his phone as he did. I pulled away and spun Emily to face the camera, making sure Dad got what he needed, before following Zoe out into the corridor and pulling the door closed behind us.
I jogged to catch up, falling into stride beside her. ‘Wow. That was …’
‘She’s a good kid.’ She gave me a smile that seemed part bravado, part something else.
‘Is she … okay?’ Stupid question, Sawyer. Of course she’s not okay. You didn’t come to stay in the Happy Families House if you didn’t have a serious health condition. The charity organisation was perfect for families who lived in small-town Australia but needed somewhere to stay while their loved ones received treatment at a big-city hospital.
Zoe shrugged one shoulder. ‘For now, she’s doing quite well.’
‘How do you do it? Work here with people like that?’ People who got sick? People who might die?
‘It’s what I’m passionate about. I’d do anything to make her happy.’ She shrugged one shoulder. ‘Anyway, I have rounds to do. If you need anything, Tahlia at reception is your best bet for—’
‘Why don’t you try out for the women’s league?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You said you’d do anything to make her happy.’ I shrugged. ‘Try out for the professional women’s league. It would obviously mean a lot to her.’
She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. I’ve always loved AFL—I’ve played all my life, but I’m not a professional athlete.’
An idea formed in my mind. Could she be the answer to my problems?
I needed someone to take to the Player of the Year Awards. Someone who I could have fun with, but I wouldn’t fall for, not when I was still recovering from my recent breakup.
I could never fall for Zoe.
She was moving overseas.
I turned on the charm, offering up my best smile. ‘As you now know, I’m a professional athlete.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘And?’
‘And I could train you. Help get you ready.’ I shrugged. ‘Help you make Emily’s dreams come true.’
She bit down on her lower lip. ‘I … I would like that, but I’m going overseas in a few months. There’d be no point.’
‘I thought the point was to prove that you could play footy just as well as any guy could.’
She grinned. A small smattering of freckles danced on her cheeks. ‘Well, that’s a good point.’
‘You have nothing to lose. I’ll train you—I’ll even hook you up with the club for trials. And I’m sure your boss would love to see you make this kid’s dream come true before you left.’
‘That would actually help my cause a lot.’ She nodded, then narrowed her eyes. �
�But wait. What’s in it for you?’
‘The pleasure of knowing I’ve helped a woman in need.’
She raised both eyebrows.
I winced. ‘And I was hoping you’d come to this dinner thing with me.’
‘Dinner thing?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So one “dinner thing” in exchange for a few weeks’ worth of training sessions. That would be the deal.’
‘Correct.’ I nodded.
‘And this “dinner thing”—it’s not a date, right?’
‘No!’ I shook my head. ‘No. You’d be doing me a favour.’ Helping me look like less of a loser in front of the world when my ex walks down the red carpet with my best friend.
‘Okay then.’ She held out her hand to shake. ‘Looks like we have a deal.’
‘Looks like we do.’
***
I went through the motions at training, focused. All about the ball. That was where my mind was the entire time.
I managed to avoid Braden, sticking clear of him in every team activity, every play we practised. I wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet.
I threw my body into each tackle with force, each pass, each drill the same. Every time my muscles tightened in the cool early spring air, I gritted my teeth. Braden and Ava, kissing on the red carpet. Her arms in his hair. His hands around that waist, that waist that I’d once—
‘Oomph,’ Leigh said as he landed on the ground.
I jogged to a stop, looking back at our team captain before turning around and offering him a hand. ‘Sorry, mate.’
He took it, dusting himself off. ‘No worries. You okay tonight?’
I shrugged. ‘Perfect. Fine.’ Never fucking better.
Leigh narrowed his eyes, then shrugged, walking away. ‘Suit yourself, Sawyer. But if you want to chat, I’m up for a beer later on.’
‘Okay, boys. Let’s call it a night.’ Coach clapped his hands once, and I slowed to a jog, walking it off. ‘Sawyer? Get changed, then I’ll see you in my office. Pronto.’
‘Sure thing.’ I nodded. Shit. What now?
As I headed toward the change room, I stretched my arms over my head. I’d need a good session with the masseuse tomorrow. Finals week wasn’t the time to be careless, and with the change in the weather, I didn’t want my body to seize up.
‘Hey. Can we talk?’ Braden stepped in front of me from out of nowhere.
‘Nothing to say.’ I shrugged, moving to step around, but he blocked my passage.
‘Clearly there is, man.’ He ran a hand through his hair, and it stood on end. ‘Listen, I’m sorry. I should have told you about me and Ava. I just—’
‘It doesn’t bother me.’ I attempted to move past him again, but he blocked my passage a second time.
‘Clearly, it does.’ He stepped closer. We were the only two left on the field. ‘Listen, I know it must be hard to hear, but you two were over. Don’t be a dick about this, please. Ava and I—’
‘Wait, I’m being a dick?’ Was he for real? ‘You’re screwing my ex, and I’m being a dick?’
‘Exactly. I’m screwing your ex. And we didn’t start seeing each other until after you guys broke up.’
‘How long after?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘How. Long,’ I seethed through gritted teeth.
Guilt crossed his expression, and he blew out a long breath between his teeth. ‘A few weeks. Maybe a month.’
‘We only broke up a month ago.’ What was he saying? ‘So you just got together?’
‘No.’ He looked at the green turf beneath our feet. ‘I meant we’ve been together that long. For a month this Thursday.’
A month this Thursday. Four, three, two … that was it. That was literally the night we broke up. ‘So Ava went straight from my bed into yours, and you didn’t think to tell me?’
‘I just—all my life I’ve been Sawyer’s best friend, you know? The short one. The second choice. Ava makes me feel like I matter. Like I come first.’ He shook his head. ‘And I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to feel like she’d chosen me over you, or anything like that.’
He didn’t want me to feel like I’d been rejected in favour of my best friend, but I had. Looks like I’m second choice now.
‘Well, whatever, man. I’m happy for you guys. Really.’ Sarcasm was heavy in my tone as I stepped around him and this time, he let me pass.
‘I’m sorry. Sawyer.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t be,’ I called as I headed into the change room.
Later that night, as Coach chewed me out for being too aggressive during what was one of the most important training sessions of the year, I couldn’t get that line out of my mind.
She chose him.
She didn’t choose me.
Chapter 7
Zoe
‘So you’re telling me, you’re going to some “dinner thing” with Sawyer Benson—the Sawyer Benson—and he’s training you in Aussie Rules to help you get picked for a team. How is this real life?’ Aubrey squeaked over the phone. ‘I want to swap. I hands down would like to request a do-over in life where I get to play you, and you can instead have your week filled with helping single men meet single women.’
Aubrey was a speed-dating host, which, as she said, might have sounded all fun and romantic, but actually left her with very little time to find eligible men for herself.
‘Aubs, you’re forgetting one very important thing,’ I said. ‘If you were me, it means you’d have had to have dated your brother.’
‘No!’ she gasped.
‘Have sex with—’
‘My life is fine. My life is golden,’ she said in a falsely bright tone. ‘Seriously, though. This is amazing. He is pretty much the most eligible man in the league.’
Those eyes, so like the ocean. Those arms, so strong and capable—capable of lifting a woman up and around his waist without breaking a sweat.
He was sexy, alright.
‘But it doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s a typical football player. The guy made a joke about naming his dick, for Christ’s sake.’ I made a face as I pulled the car into the parking lot of that ran alongside the oval where Sawyer said we’d meet.
‘Ew. Really?’ Aubrey sighed. ‘I’m disappointed.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Did you see that his ex and his best friend got together? They’re living in a converted warehouse in Dockside.’
‘Really?’ I asked.
‘Mm-hmm.’ She paused. ‘Maybe this whole dinner thing is to help make her jealous.’
I turned the car off, killing the lights. ‘Maybe it is. I guess I’ll find out more about it all tonight.’
‘Okay, well you make sure you call me after and tell me every little thing that happens. I want details of the most specific kind,’ Aubrey teased, and I laughed.
‘Like how many push-ups he makes me do in a row?’
‘Like how many squares he has on his abs, and whether he takes his shirt off or not.’
‘Goodbye, Aubrey.’ I picked up my phone, holding it closer to my mouth.
‘Bye.’
I killed the call, and silence filled the car. I couldn’t believe I was really doing this.
It seemed strange to be taking this challenge, but I wanted to prove myself to Emily—wanted to show her that anything a man could do, a girl could too. Who knew? It may even help my letter of referral.
I opened the car door and stretched, raising my arms high above my head. Every muscle ached. It’d been a long day at the house, and I raced around on my feet for so much of it. The last thing I felt like doing was physical exercise.
I glanced around the park, looking for Sawyer, but it was empty. We’d swapped numbers back at the centre when we organised to meet tonight, and he’d been very specific about the time. Where could he …
‘Will you sign this too?’
I spun around. Sawyer was stopped on the footpath outside the parking lot, two women by his side. On
e had her hand on his arm, her blonde hair perfectly fanned across her back, and the other held out a crumpled piece of paper.
‘Of course.’ Sawyer took the paper—or was it a receipt?—and scribbled on it, then handed the items back. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’
‘Are you sure?’ the blonde’s voice lowered, and I stepped closer, curious. ‘Because we live really close by. You could come back to our place …’
Was she for real?
‘As tempting as that is, I have a prior commitment.’ Sawyer looked up, and his eyes locked with mine. ‘Hot date.’
I smiled, looking down at my sweatpants and tank. Funny.
The girls said their goodbyes and Sawyer closed the gap between us, swinging a kitbag over his shoulder. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘It’s fine.’ I shook my head. ‘Just a part of life as a famous Aussie Rules player?’
‘Yeah.’ A twinkle lit his eyes. ‘Signing autographs, running balls around the field, and getting run over by angry women who think male Aussie Rules players are brainless.’
‘Hey, you stepped into my car.’ I pointed at his chest. ‘And I already apologised about the brainless comment. I am sorry.’
‘S’okay. I was teasing.’ He grinned, then placed his bag down on the ground in front of my car. ‘So I was thinking we’d use tonight as a sort of test. I’ll set some drills to work out your physical fitness, your skills, and then we can discuss a training plan from there.’
‘Sounds good.’ He was all business. I liked that.
We spend the next hour running up and down the field. I sprinted. I jogged. I threw, and I kicked, and I jumped. Each time, I felt Sawyer’s gaze on me, watching, assessing, and it made me want to run faster, throw harder, jump higher.
‘Okay, now I just want you to show me some tackles. I need to get a gauge of your defensive position,’ Sawyer says, picking up the ball from the kitbag on the ground.
‘But I attack,’ I say, frowning.
‘You do, but when you’re in trials, you might be asked to play a variety of positions. And you still need to be able to master the basic skills,’ he said, then bounced the ball once on the ground before it snapped into his fingers. ‘I’ll run the ball down the line, and I want you to tackle me.’
A Whole New Ball Game Page 3