A Whole New Ball Game

by Lauren K. McKellar

  I should have known better than to doubt him. He’d always been a fair boss, if a little stern, and I’d had no reason to not stand my ground at dinner with Jarren, or even go to Dean the next day.

  But sometimes, you needed a push to make those big decisions.

  I’d made mine.

  Now I just had to hope Sawyer would be willing to play this long game with me.

  Chapter 32

  Sawyer

  The days flew by in what felt like one long photo shoot. Smile for the cameras. Wave to the crowds. Sign this, pose for a selfie, talk about things you did that people loved and things they wish you had done better.

  It still amazed me. How’d I get so lucky?

  ‘I worked hard,’ I told one fan with football stars in his eyes. ‘We all did. And if you do it—if you make the right choices, make sacrifices when it comes to your personal life, and put Aussie Rules above all else—you can do this too.’

  ‘I will,’ he promised, pulling his phone from his pocket. ‘Mind if we take a selfie?’

  ‘Of course not.’ I posed for the photo, then hopped into the waiting cab.

  Ironically, I was about to do exactly what I’d told that young man not to.

  ‘Bonaparte Oval please,’ I told the driver, and he whizzed through traffic in the opposite direction to the in-store sports apparel signing I was supposed to be at.

  Zoe’s trial.

  Nothing was more important to me than that.

  When we reached the oval, I settled the fare, then made my way to the sidelines in a rush, past the men from the Lions club setting up a sausage sizzle. I kept my head low, hoping that by arriving a few minutes late I’d avoided any unnecessary attention.

  Two teams ran onto the field, some in black bibs, others in white. A tall, lanky guy on the sidelines raised his arm high in the air and blew the whistle—

  And they were off.

  I stepped closer to the crowd of watchers on the sidelines, their faces all serious. No one spoke. My muscles tensed, and I clenched my jaw as I searched for Zoe in amongst the players, finally spotting her in a white bib with the number eight on it. There’s my girl. Show ’em what you got.

  She raced toward the ball and leapt into the air, catching it on the full before sprinting down the field. Damn, the girl could run—she did it at our training sessions, but now it was as if she were running with an entirely new energy and focus, as if something possessed her to go harder, faster than she ever had before. She broke clear of the pack, and just as the defence rushed forward to meet her, she dropped the ball and kicked.

  It sailed through the posts effortlessly.

  ‘Yes!’ I punched the air. She did it! Way to make a killer first impression.

  A few women on the sidelines clapped. One shot me a look, leaving me in no doubt as to her negative feelings about the situation. On the other side of the oval, four women sitting in camp chairs talked amongst themselves, one scribbling something on a clipboard in front of her. Number eight. That was what she had to be writing.

  The game went on, the black team fighting back with one goal then another, pushing them into the lead. Zoe fought to get the ball, but defence wasn’t her strength. She attempted a tackle on one Amazonian woman, but the warrior shook her off as if she were a fly. Zoe tumbled to the ground, but she bounced. She just flew right up again as if she hadn’t been slammed. Amazing.

  The whistle’s shrill tone pierced the tense air. I let loose a long breath, rolling my shoulders. This was worse than watching my team play. Had I been this stressed in the GF?

  No.

  Because then, I could control what was happening.

  Here, fate was controlled entirely by someone else, was happening to someone else, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  The crowd at the sideline broke, some rushing forward to their loved ones on the oval, others hanging back. I headed toward Zoe, already at her kitbag and knocking back a water. A frown drew her brows together.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey!’ She broke into an easy grin, throwing her arms around my waist. ‘You came!’

  ‘Of course.’ I wrapped my arms around her. Home. ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

  She pulled back, making a face. ‘I’m sure you have somewhere else you should be, don’t you?’

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, as if adding weight to her words. I hit cancel. Kristy’d be furious, but I could deal with that later. I’d already told her that Saturday was out of bounds. I needed to be here for this. ‘Nowhere more important than where I am now.’

  ‘Well, I’m not exactly giving you much to see.’ Zoe glanced over to the four women in the camp chairs. ‘I’ve barely touched the ball, and when I have, it’s been to fumble a tackle or trip over my own feet.’

  ‘Or score the first goal of the game with an amazing sprint.’

  She laughed. ‘One lucky strike won’t be enough.’

  ‘But it won’t just be one. You guys will fight back, and then you’ll show them how it’s done. How you can dominate this game. I know it.’ I—wait. One lucky strike wouldn’t be enough. ‘Hang on, what you just said. Does that mean you’re actually trying out?’

  Does that mean you’re going to stay?

  ‘I—’

  ‘Number eight, get over here!’ a woman called from a huddle of white bibs in the centre of the oval.

  Zoe winced. ‘Sorry. Gotta go.’

  ‘Knock ’em dead.’ I watched her race across the field, drink bottle still in hand.

  As I walked back to where I’d viewed the game from earlier, the scent of sausages lingered in the air. My stomach rumbled, reminding me of the spread I was missing out on at the in-store. Yeah. I could go some of that.

  I made my way over to the line.

  ‘Sawyer?’ The woman next to me gave an open smile.

  ‘Gail! Hi.’ I offered my hand for the women’s team manager to shake.

  ‘I should have known you’d be here.’ She glanced to the women on the field, still huddled together. ‘Which one was it you wanted me to keep my eye on?’

  ‘It’s number—’

  No.

  I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t interfere when the stakes were this high, and this looked like it had finally become a reality for Zoe. If selected, she might stay. And while I wanted that more than anything—God, did I want that—I had to let it be because of her. Not because of me.

  ‘You know what?’

  ‘What?’ Gail asked, stepping forward and handing over her gold coins to the man in the blue apron.

  ‘Her actions are gonna speak for themselves.’

  Gail’s eyes twinkled. ‘I like your confidence.’

  So did I.

  * * *

  The rest of the game flew. Zoe got another goal in, and even managed a decent tackle or two. She was good, really good—but so were the other women on the field. Much better than I’d expected them to be. This was a real league, not just some equal rights bullshit.

  When the game ended and the cooldown had finished, the four judges walked out onto the field. The two teams started to stretch, long arms and longer legs moving in different positions. The watchers on the sidelines inched forward. Was this it? Would they announce the team now, after just one game?

  My phone buzzed again. I pulled it to my ear. ‘Hey, Kristy.’

  ‘Sawyer Jonathan Benson, if you don’t get here in half an hour, I will have you castrated.’

  ‘I’m walking toward the car as we speak.’ I shuffled back to the outskirts of the group. I would be in just one moment, after I heard this announcement.

  ‘Good. I let you off this morning, but it’s nearly midday, and if you’re not here by one, there will be consequences.’

  ‘You play the mum role real well.’ I waved at Zoe, and she gave me a small smile, her chest panting from exertion. ‘I mean that. Thank you for everything.’

  ‘I … thanks.’

  Huh. My usually fu
ll-of-words sister had been rendered speechless.

  ‘Also, we still need to talk about Zoe.’

  ‘What’s there to talk about?’ So strange she kept bringing that up.

  ‘Just … wait! Leigh, do not put that in your mouth!’ Kristy shrieked. In the background, I heard the guffaws of my teammates. Sounded like they were having a good time. ‘Sawyer, I gotta go. Just … be careful with Zoe, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon. Less than an hour.’

  ‘Okay.’ I hung up the phone and moved back to the group of women in the middle of the oval, all clustered around Gail and the other three women who’d been sitting in those chairs.

  ‘We’re moving onto round two of the trial. Round two will consist of some more specific drills and plays. If I call your name, please remain on the oval. You’ve progressed to the next stage, and are one step closer to being a part of the Killers female squad.’ Gail paused, her face softening. ‘If I don’t, thank you so much for your time, but you may leave.’ She took the clipboard from one of her offsiders. ‘Angela Luckerman.’

  Beside me, a woman hissed ‘yes’, beaming. The Amazon in the black bib jumped in the air, whooping and cheering.

  ‘Kennedy Smith.’

  Another girl clapped, a grin so big on her face it stretched to her eyes.

  These women were serious about this. This was all important.

  As Gail read out more and more names, my shoulders tensed further and further. C’mon, Zoe. Pick Zoe.

  ‘And finally …’ Gail glanced down the list, then looked back at the women in front of her again. ‘Zoe Taylor.’

  ‘Yes!’ I punched the air. ‘Hell yes!’

  Zoe’s cheeks flushed red. She smiled, long and wide, and damn it, I was so proud of her. Of how far she’d come. Of how hard she’d worked to get to this point.

  I knew this didn’t mean she’d made it. Of the thirty-odd women who’d played, around twenty remained. And they were twenty of the best Aussie Rules players I’d ever seen.

  But she was in with a real shot.

  And I was behind her, one hundred per cent of the way.

  Chapter 33

  Zoe

  ‘How you feeling?’ Tahlia leaned against the doorframe in my bedroom.

  ‘Good. Nervous. Sick.’ I made a face, looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror. ‘Is that how I’m supposed to be feeling?’

  ‘It is.’ She stepped into the room. ‘Luckily, however, you look amazing in that dress.’

  I twirled, the beads on the black floor-length gown I’d borrowed from Aubrey shimmering. ‘I can’t believe I’m wearing something like this.’

  ‘Well, you better get used to it.’ Tahlia opened my jewellery box and fiddled around inside, then pulled out a pair of simple diamond studs. ‘These. Definitely these with that dress.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I placed one through my ear, then the other. ‘I’m going to tell him tonight. After the awards.’

  ‘I’m so proud of you.’ Tahlia stepped back, her gaze darting from ear to ear. ‘Yep. They’re perfect.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I took the hot pink lipstick I’d just applied and stashed it in my clutch. ‘You know it still means I have to quit though, right?’

  ‘I know.’ Tahlia sighed. ‘I know, and I’m devastated, but if you need to follow your dreams, you have to follow your dreams.’

  ‘Thanks, Tahls.’ I gave her a big hug. She’d been so supportive of me through this whole thing. The fact she stood by me now spoke volumes.

  I’d spent the afternoon looking at jobs online. It was hard to find part-time roles that would suit the hours I needed, but a few had matched my criteria and I’d emailed off my applications. I’d also shot an email to Aubrey, hoping she still had that discount deal on her personal trainer.

  After all, I had no way of knowing if I’d get into the team.

  But if I didn’t, I was going to do everything I could to ensure 2020 was my year. With the money I had saved, I could really dedicate time to pushing myself to the limit, making sure they chose me next time around.

  Because I wanted to help people.

  But I wanted this too.

  On impulse, I grabbed my phone, refreshing the inbox.

  Nothing from Aubrey.

  One email from Mum.

  Dear Zoe,

  I love you, darling. I’m a little confused by your last email, however. I don’t know if you were joking?

  In case you weren’t, I’m going to make it easy for you. Choose the children who don’t get to choose if they play sport or not. You want to do some physical activity after your shift? I’m sure someone will need their house cleaned, or water brought up from the well.

  I suspect, however, that all you’ll want to do is lie down when you’re not needed.

  This sort of work is draining—it’s not for the weak. I’m writing about that in my memoir (did I tell you I’m writing a memoir? I’ve spoken to a few publishers—they’re very excited!).

  I hope this helps. I’m so proud of the woman I’ve raised you to become—kind, caring, and always doing what’s right. You’re my number one.

  Love,

  Mum

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just …’ I shook my head, stuffing my phone back in my clutch and placing the small bag on the table. ‘You know what? It’s nothing important.’ I’d let her choices rule my life for too long—it was time to do it my way.

  There was a knock on the door. Tahlia gave a little squeal. ‘Good luck!’ she whispered, giving me a quick hug before heading for her room.

  ‘Thanks.’

  I went to the door to open it and—

  Whoa.

  Sawyer in his footy gear was hot.

  Sawyer in a suit was smoking.

  The black jacket highlighted his broad shoulders, and that crisp white shirt set off his golden skin even more. I reached in, grabbed his slim black tie, and pulled him close. ‘Hi,’ I whispered over his lips, before replacing my breath with a kiss. His lips parted, and he grabbed me closer. His firm body felt so good against mine. I wanted to rub myself up and down it. Sex on a stick—that was what he was.

  ‘You look …’ Sawyer stepped back, his eyes running over my body. ‘Amazing.’

  ‘So do you.’ Seriously. How soon could I get him out of those clothes?

  ‘Maybe we should skip this thing.’ Sawyer tugged at his tie, stepping into my apartment, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘It’s not that important, and—’

  ‘Uh-uh! No.’ I pressed both hands against his chest—mistake! That chest—and gently shoved him back out the door. ‘Your sister would kill me. And you look so hot—the world needs to see that.’

  Besides, I’m sticking around.

  That means we can finally have sex and have it as many times as we want.

  I shivered in anticipation.

  ‘What are you smiling at?’ Sawyer narrowed his eyes.

  ‘Oh, nothing.’ I grabbed my clutch from the table and joined him in the hall. I’d tell him later, when the business part of the evening was done. ‘Let’s go.’

  We reached the car, and the driver ushered us inside. He offered us each a glass of wine before we headed across town, but I refused. Too much energy was still buzzing through my system.

  ‘How do you feel about today?’ Sawyer asked. His hand moved to rest on my thigh, and I was acutely aware of its heat. Higher.

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘I gave it everything I had.’

  ‘You did. I was so proud.’ He squeezed my leg, and I shifted, allowing the slit in my dress to connect his skin to mine. His Adam’s apple dipped. ‘About before—you said something that made me think maybe you’re going to—’

  His phone blared from his pocket.

  ‘Hang on a sec.’ He pulled it out. Kristy flashed on the screen, and he swiped to answer. ‘Hey sis, what’s—’ He paused. An angry voice chirped on the other end of the
line. ‘Yes, we’re on our way. A few minutes, tops.’

  I smiled, looking out the window. She mightn’t have been my biggest fan, but I really liked Sawyer’s sister. From what I could tell, her only gripe against me was the fact I might hurt her brother.

  And I wouldn’t.

  In fact, I was fairly sure my news would thrill him.

  ‘Okay, okay. Look, I can see the Crown now. Be with you in a sec.’ He ended the call as the car slowed to a stop outside the casino. A long red carpet lined the path, roped off on either side with people swarmed against the barriers, some brandishing microphones and cameras, others in their team attire.

  Sawyer placed the phone on the seat and linked his hand with mine. ‘Sorry. Kristy just worries when I’m even a second overdue.’

  ‘She’s a good publicist.’

  ‘The best.’ He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. ‘Now what were you saying before?’

  ‘Just that …’

  ‘Sawyer!’

  I glanced out the window. Somehow, the crowd had gotten wind of who was behind the tinted windows and were screaming his name.

  ‘I’ll tell you after.’ I gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Once you’ve won Player of the Year.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘You know that probably won’t happen.’

  The door opened, and the crowd called his name. A pair of knickers flew through the air and landed at his feet.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’ I giggled, letting him lead me out of the limo and into the throngs of the press.

  We walked into the building at a slow pace, Kristy appearing from nowhere and directing Sawyer on who to talk to and telling me where to stand while he did. Thankfully, I liked the instructions I received—remain right by his side.

  By the time we reached the building’s interior, it was a pleasant relief to be handed a glass of beer and see familiar faces, even if they did belong to a few of the WAGs I hadn’t really spoken much with, as well as some of the other football players.

  ‘Sawyer, can I chat to you for just one second?’ Kristy tugged on his arm, then made a small face at me. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Of course.’ She led him away. Martina turned to Leigh, asking him about his date for the night and whether he saw it going anywhere. She wasn’t rude, but the nature of the conversation felt a little personal for him to be chatting about in front of someone he barely knew.