International Player Read online

  Abigail might think an ordinary person didn’t need a stationery cabinet in their home, but times like this proved her wrong. I didn’t spend the next twenty minutes trying to find some scissors because I knew exactly where they were—alongside my notebooks (at least eight that had never been used), Post-its (every size and every color), envelopes (a selection of sizes and weight), paper (in ten different shades, Bone Enamel being my favorite), a hole punch, and shelves full of other neatly organized items that were or might be useful. I picked out one of two pairs of medium-sized scissors and sliced open the package.

  Well, there was no excuse now. I had a brand-new pair of trainers, and I was wearing a sports bra. Time to start running. Working out counted as the breadth Abi said I needed. It wasn’t work related, was a potential hobby (if I survived this morning), and it didn’t involve thinking about Noah, which I’d been doing far too much of since Abi announced he was coming back. The fact that it didn’t involve other people suited my introverted habits quite nicely. Abigail would be happy. I would be distracted. I was killing two birds with one stone.

  The only problem was, I’d never run seriously before. But how hard could it be? It was just walking but faster.

  I tied my brand-new Adidas laces and headed out into the July London morning. It was light enough to see where I was going and early enough for no one to be up to witness my potential humiliation. I was also hoping that while I was fighting for breath, I’d decide on whether or not to go to lunch at my sister’s later that day.

  I tightened my ponytail as I strode past the unoccupied porter’s desk and paused outside the door. Which direction should I head in? I’d not planned my journey or anything, so I really wasn’t prepared. Perhaps I should forget it for today and figure out a route for tomorrow? I could map out a manageable distance and head to a specific place, then work back. But I was here now, I might as well start.

  I checked my watch and turned left out of my building toward the park, walking at first and then breaking into a light jog as I turned off my road. The streets were eerily quiet, and although cars passed me fairly regularly, it was almost as if I were in a different city. The dull roar of the motorway that I never normally noticed had disappeared, and I could even make out birdsong. Instead of dodging pedestrians, I had a chance to look around and examine the white stucco houses, mostly divided into flats, and wonder who lived beyond the glossy black front doors.

  This wasn’t so bad.

  I just needed to keep my pace steady. Not push myself too hard, too fast. As I carried on along the empty streets, my breathing fell into a rhythm with my feet. I breathed in every two steps and pushed out again every two steps. The sensation of being so aware of my lungs emptying and filling brought my thoughts back to Noah.

  And lunch. And how I wanted to see him, which clearly meant I shouldn’t go. It had been four years. Why did my heart rate shift into a different gear when Abigail just mentioned his name? Why could I still remember how his arms felt around me and his beard scraped against my cheek when he greeted me?

  I’d heard stories about Noah from Rob as he relived what he’d called his “glory days” at university, but our paths hadn’t crossed until the wedding. Noah had just returned from working in Hong Kong or China or another faraway destination. Even then he’d stood out—all blond hair, white teeth, and long limbs. He’d grinned at me from across the aisle and I’d looked away. Confused by his attention, I’d done my best to ignore him through the rest of the ceremony.

  When he’d tried to engage me in conversation during the pre-reception drinks, I’d tried to figure out why. Was he one of those uber-friendly people who just liked getting to know everyone, or did he feel obligated to make conversation because I was Abigail’s sister? Or a bridesmaid?

  When he’d asked me to dance the first time, I’d refused. The second time I’d offered him a deal—a fifty-pound contribution to the Harbury Foundation in return for three and a half minutes to Katy Perry’s “California Gurls.” He’d countered with two hundred pounds for five minutes and forty seconds of Spandau Ballet’s “True.”

  I’d accepted.

  For the first time ever, I’d been nervous to touch a man, for a man to hold me. Until Noah had slid his arms around my waist and breathed out a “Perfect” in my ear, his whiskers scraping my cheek. I’d melted into him, letting him press his hands against my back so there was no gap between us. Five minutes dissolved into just a few seconds where Noah had been the only person I’d been aware of in that marquee.

  It was clear he was trouble.

  And a player.

  And well used to banging bridesmaids at weddings.

  His intentions became all the more clear when I figured out we were the only two single people over eighteen at the wedding. So I challenged him to see me as a friend rather than a potential conquest. I told him that I wouldn’t be sleeping with him, but we could hang out and I could steer him away from conversations with aunties who wore too much perfume and cousins who were ten years too young for him.

  And that night something new had been born between us. I’d become the first ever woman he’d tried and failed to sleep with. He’d become the person I was closest to other than my sister. We’d become the best of friends.

  He teased me for being a geek. I bollocked him for being a player.

  He was always able to tempt me into doing things I thought I’d hate and ended up enjoying. I showed him how boys were not the only experts on comic books.

  He’d once confessed how relieved he was that I’d rejected him at the wedding so we could be friends, and right then and there a line in the sand was drawn.

  Noah turned out to be different to how I expected. He wasn’t just some handsome player. I liked him, respected him, thought he was clever and driven and humble, and somewhere along the way I’d developed a huge crush on him. At least he’d never known, and I’d been saved that embarrassment. I’d hidden it well. Under my geekdom, and firmly in the center of the Friend Zone.

  And that was why I should avoid him. I didn’t want my crush coming back and this time have him figure it out. He might have wanted to seduce me at a wedding because of a lack of other single women of a suitable age, but I wasn’t the girl who was going to change his player ways, and I had no interest in being another notch on his bedpost. I should make an excuse about not being able to make lunch.

  My thighs began to burn and a trickle of sweat ran from the back of my neck down my spine. I hadn’t even reached the park yet, and I wanted to stop, give up, and turn back. But no. This was my chance to do something different. Prove to my sister that I had breadth and to myself that I’d changed and was no longer the girl who ran away from men who were far too attractive for their own good.

  I wanted to see him again. I wanted my friend back. And I wanted to know if he remembered that night before he’d left for New York. That night when we’d shared a bottle of wine, listened to music, and we’d almost crossed that line that had been drawn in the sand between us.

  Had he wanted me then?

  Had he known how much I’d wanted him?

  THREE

  Truly

  I bit down on the side of my thumbnail as I paced in front of the tidy, terraced Victorian villas. A ponytail looked casual enough, right? And everyone would be wearing jeans. But the blush and the eyeliner? On a Sunday? Abigail was bound to notice.

  I should never have come.

  The slate-gray front door of my sister’s house swung open and I froze. “Truly?” my brother-in-law bellowed. “I thought that was you. What are you doing out there?”

  “Sorry, just finishing up a call.” I wasn’t even holding my mobile, and anyway, who would I be calling on a Sunday? I really needed to work on my cover stories.

  I lifted up on tiptoes and kissed Rob on the cheek. “Did you do roast potatoes?”

  “I wouldn’t dare do anything else.” He scooped up the bottle of white wine in my hand. “Going for a change?” he asked, looking a
t the label. “You usually bring red.”

  “I just had it in my fridge.”

  “Along with some moldy cheese?”

  And hummus, but I didn’t say that. Instead I whacked his stomach with the back of my hand for daring to be right. A stocked fridge wasn’t a priority. I usually ordered something in the office or bought two lunches and kept one in the communal fridge for later.

  “Is that you, Truly?” my sister called from the kitchen.

  I slipped past Rob and took a deep breath as I headed to the back of the house. The blush and eyeliner were just armor. Protection from Noah and his charms. I so desperately wanted to see him again and for him to have no effect on me. I didn’t want to be the girl pining after some guy who didn’t know she was alive or at least didn’t see her as dating potential. It was sad and pathetic and that wasn’t who I was. I pulled my shoulders back and turned left, expecting to see Noah for the first time in four years. But the only person in the large, airy room was my sister, who was at the hob, peering into a saucepan.

  She spun around as Rob came in after me, looking guilty.

  “Did you touch it?” he asked. Rob only agreed to cook on the basis Abigail left him to it and didn’t interfere.

  “I swear I didn’t. I just looked. Because—”

  “Don’t pretend to be helping, Abigail. Pour the wine.” He handed her the bottle he’d just taken from me.

  “You’re a cruel man, Robert Franklin, making a pregnant lady pour wine she can’t drink.”

  I glanced around, noting that Noah was nowhere to be seen.

  “You brought white?” Abigail asked as she kissed me on the cheek.

  I shrugged, pushing my hands into my pockets as she took in my made-up face. She noticed, but at least she didn’t say anything. Just like she didn’t say anything about Noah’s absence. Maybe I was off the hook. Maybe he’d had other plans. No doubt he had plenty of friends to catch up with, women to hang out with, things to do. That was who Noah was. He was busy. Always working toward one goal or another. Always on the go.

  The footsteps thundering down the stairs told me I hadn’t gotten off as lightly as I had hoped.

  Abigail looked up at the ceiling. “I swear he’s going to bring this house down.”

  Her voice faded out and all I could focus on was my breathing. It was as if my body had decided that it wasn’t involuntary anymore, and if I wasn’t careful, my lungs would empty and never refill.

  I moved toward the glass doors to pull them open and suck in some more air.

  “Hey, guys, sorry. I had to take that call.” Noah’s deep voice tumbled out from behind me, setting off goosebumps across my skin.

  Slowly, I turned and took him in. All six foot four of him filled the doorway. I’d forgotten just how perfect he was in the flesh. My memory of him didn’t paint him as vividly as he was in real life. It was as if the color had been turned up on him compared to the rest of the population. The high, chiseled cheekbones, the Nordic nose that looked like he just stepped off a long ship, and the dirty blond hair that was a little longer than he wore it all those years ago—it was all too perfect. His long, long legs were clad in denim and his broad chest was covered in what looked like gray cashmere. Jesus, no wonder this man had gotten over the desire to sleep with me and friend zoned me so quickly. He looked like he’d been designed for my sister—beautiful, graceful, and powerful.

  He followed Abigail’s glance toward me and as our eyes locked, I gave him a wave with both hands the way a five-year-old might.

  “Truly,” he said, his low voice echoing through my body.

  His eyes lit up in the way they always did as a smile spread across his face. But his warm greeting wasn’t reserved just for me. Or even people he liked. He simply had a way about him that made the people around him feel special. He strode over to me.

  “So good to see you. It’s been ages.”

  My body heated the closer he got, and as he bent, I inhaled that blend of citrus and warm skin I remembered. The scruff of his day-old beard caught my cheek as he pressed his face to mine. My heart began to pound, and I willed him to move away so he wouldn’t feel it. “You look really well,” he said, the pitch of his voice loud rather than intimate. He pressed his palms to my shoulders and held me at arm’s length, then he glanced over at Rob and Abigail as if he wanted them to agree.

  He released me, and as if he’d been holding me up, I had to step back to get my balance. I cleared my throat in the hope it would reset my pulse to a normal rhythm. “Welcome back,” was all I could manage.

  “Wine?” Abigail asked.

  “I’d love a glass of pinot noir if you have it,” Noah said.

  Rob snorted. “You know we have plenty.” He turned from the saucepan in front of him and rolled his eyes at me. “This guy turned up with six cases of it. And it is so good. You normally drink red; you want to try it?”

  I shook my head. “Trying to keep a clear head, so I’ll stick to white. I’ve got a busy week coming up.”

  “So how was the flat hunting?” Abi asked, then turned, handing me a glass of the wine I’d brought. “He’s been out all morning looking at places.”

  “Good. It’s helping me narrow down what I want,” Noah replied.

  I slid onto one of the oak benches at the dining table so I faced the room. Resting my elbows on either side of my glass, I waited to hear all about Noah’s life now. His future.

  I was going to need all the wine.

  “And what is it you want?” Abigail asked.

  “A bachelor pad,” Rob said, and I tried to keep my face neutral. “Somewhere that has mirrors on the bedroom ceiling.”

  “Something central,” Noah said, ignoring Rob. “I want my commute to be short, but I need to be able to get out of the city quickly to get to the airport.”

  “Didn’t you just sell your company?” Abigail asked as she poured the pinot noir into his glass. “Where are you commuting to? Are you going to get another job?”

  Noah lifted one of his long, muscular legs over the bench and took a seat across from me at the kitchen table. “I’m still on the board, but I’m a non-exec, so I just have to go back to New York once a month.”

  “Wow, a job where you only show up once a month—must be nice to be you,” Rob said over the clattering of the saucepans.

  Rob knew as well as the rest of us that Noah worked hard. He might only have to show up in New York once a month, but Noah wasn’t a guy who took it easy just because he could. He was always working toward something.

  “I’m actively looking for my next business challenge. Taking my time and seeing what captures my interest. And I’m learning to fly.”

  “Flying? How?” I’d only been half listening while I’d been remembering the feel of his hot skin under my fingers.

  Noah grinned. “I’m aiming for a full-on Black Swan moment. Until then, I’m going to work toward my pilot’s license.”

  “Right,” I mumbled, staring into my glass. Why had I asked such an inane question? This was why I was no good at the galas and the dinners that Abi navigated so effortlessly.

  “Seriously? You’re taking flying lessons?” Rob asked, glancing at Abi.

  “Don’t look at me as if you need my permission. I’m not your mother.” Abi slid onto the bench beside me.

  “Got my first one this week. I thought I might as well take advantage of having some free time. I’m going to do a skydiving course as well.”

  “Sounds like you,” Rob said. “Action. Adventure. Is there anything you’re afraid of?”

  Noah just grinned. If the building was on fire, Noah would be the one organizing the evacuation and guiding everyone to safety. He was always in control, calm and sure of himself.

  “Yeah, there’s no way I can take flying lessons,” Rob muttered. “Five and a half months until everything changes.”

  “So that’s not long until you guys are parents. Are you terrified?” Noah asked.

  “No.” Rob placed the roa
st chicken on the table.

  “Liar,” Abigail replied.

  “Okay, mildly terrified,” Rob replied. “And of course, it doesn’t help that Abigail is insisting she’s going back to work the week after she gives birth.”

  “Six weeks after. And you know the demands of the foundation. I can’t just abandon ship—baby or no baby.”

  Noah glanced at me, and I rolled my eyes as a thousand memories tumbled into my head and made my heart ache. Before he’d left for New York, this had been the pattern. Rob and Abigail would snipe, quarrel, and bicker, and Noah and I would look on amused, while trying to figure out who had won our bet.

  How many times would Abigail accuse Rob of being a control freak?

  How often would Rob ask for permission to do something that Abigail didn’t like and then accuse her of being the control freak in the marriage?

  How many bottles of wine would we get through?

  Was he remembering all those things too?

  “So apart from flying lessons, what’s the plan?” Abigail asked.

  As she and Noah chatted, Rob filled the table with a collection of different dishes and finally sat down. Then we began to eat, passing plates and sauces, scooping potatoes, and carving chicken.

  How could it be this easy to sink back into a routine with this man who’d meant so much to me? It was a relief, but at the same time, so frustrating. If only Noah could have turned into some kind of arsehole, or gotten married. Or at the very least gone bald.

  At least the anticipation was over now.

  I had to accept that Noah was just the same as he ever was. It was me who needed to change. Me who needed not to fall for him again. He saw me as a friend, and that’s the box I was going to keep him in—with the lid on tight.

  FOUR

  Noah

  How long would the pounding in my chest, my burning cheeks, and the way my legs fizzed when I walked last? There was nothing like falling out of an airplane from fifteen thousand feet to throw your body for a loop. I pulled off my helmet, exhaled, then stripped out of my jumpsuit. As I pulled my jeans and t-shirt from the locker, Dave, one of the two instructors who’d jumped with me, entered the changing rooms.