Just for You (9 page)

“Yeh,” he said. “Different for me too. And I know. I know it’s your heart, now. And it matters to me, your heart.”

“It does? You sure about that?”

He smiled and kept walking. As steep as the incline was, she wasn’t out of breath, just as she hadn’t been on the island. “Yeh. Because I’m selfish about it. I want you to give it to me. And when you do, I want all of it, so it would be better for me if it were whole, eh.”

He could hear her sigh. They had turned her corner now, and unfortunately, had reached her front door, and this was where he drove away and left her again. The velvety dusk had turned to full, black night, uninterrupted by anything as prosaic as street lighting, and he wouldn’t have been able to see her at all if the night hadn’t been so clear, if the stars hadn’t been so spectacular, complete with the broad, bright streak that was the Milky Way.

He turned, took her in his arms, and felt the way she came to him. He didn’t kiss her, but she kissed him again, the gentlest press of her lips against the aching soreness that, for all its throbbing insistence, was no match for the way the rest of his body ached for her.

She clung to him a moment, then pulled back. “So hard, when it’s so good.”

“I did all right, then,” he said. “Made you happy.”

“Yeh. You did. I think you’d better get on back to Auckland, though, before I forget myself and ask you to make me happier.”

He smiled. “I’ll do that. And I’ll work out how to see you again, soon as we can manage it. We’ll get to work on that heart of yours.”

He was almost to his car when he turned around and said, his voice not loud but carrying across to her all the same, “Think about me.”

“That’s all?” she called softly back. “Just think?”

“Well, watch me, too, if you get the chance of it. Watch me, and know that I will’ve been thinking about you too. You can count on that.”

“N
ah, I dunno,” Hemi said on the following Saturday night, reaching into his locker for his shirt, pulling it over his chest and tugging it down, wincing inwardly now that the adrenaline was no longer coursing through his body, leaving him with the throbbing reminder of every single tackle he’d made and received over the past couple hours.

“Why not?” Aaron asked, lifting his foot to the bench to lace his shoe. “It’s going to be an awesome night. Best one yet. Damn, I’m good at this. I should go into business. Party planning.” He chuckled.

“Yeh, well,” Hemi said. “There’s a word for that.”

“You saying I’m a pimp?” Aaron laughed again. “Could be, mate. Could be. Wait till you see Mandy. Let’s say she’s got some talents her parents probably don’t know about, and a fair few friends who are as hot as she is—and just about as inhibited. She told me the Blues are their very favorite team, and you know how those girls love to support the team. Heaps of the other boys are coming. We got the win, time to celebrate.”

“In preseason,” Hemi pointed out. “Which means just about nothing.”

“You get religion, these past weeks? No fun at all, are you. Is it that girl? The one in Russell?”

“Yeh,” Hemi said. “Maybe it is. Or could be it’s all just getting a bit old.”

“A bit
old?”
Aaron asked in astonishment. “What, footy, beer, sex? Yeh, some of my least favorite things, aren’t they. You’re whipped, is what it is. A couple days with one girl, and I’ve lost my wingman.”

“I’m not your wingman.” Hemi got his own shoes on and started to pack up his kit.

“All right,” Aaron said. “I’m
your
wingman. I’ve lost my…wingmaster.” He laughed again, because seriousness wasn’t Aaron’s strong suit. “Come on. You can spend the night staring disapprovingly at the rest of us if you like, while we take advantage of what’s on offer. But I told Mandy you’d be there, and she’s got a couple of friends who’re dying to meet you. You’ll ruin my party before it starts if you aren’t there. Don’t let me down, I’m begging you, because that girl’s got a mouth like a hoover.”

“Aw, that’s some class,” Hemi said.

“Come on,” Aaron urged. “Help a mate out. What are you going to do otherwise?”

“Dunno. Early night?” At Aaron’s snort, he added piously, “My body is a temple.”

“Yeh, right. A temple you could find a girl or two to worship at tonight. I know that’s my plan. Come on. It’ll be good. You’ll see.”

Aaron was right, Hemi decided. Where was the harm? It was just a party. No harm in going to a party. Not like he had anything else to do.

It was, he had to admit a couple hours later, one of Aaron’s better efforts. The music was loud, the girls weren’t bad at all, and Aaron had a pretty sweet setup in the house he was renting in Newmarket. Every randy teenage boy’s dream, in fact. Hemi chalked the cue, lined up his shot, and sent another ball into the side pocket, then stood up, grabbed his beer, and took a long pull as he checked out the table.

He heard the shriek and stood, cue in one hand, his beer forgotten halfway to his lips, as the blonde at the air hockey table across from him lunged ineffectually after the caroming puck that crashed into its slot. She threw down her mallet in exaggerated despair, did some pouting, and flounced around a bit, which was all a pretty entertaining sight.

And then it got better, because she heaved a mighty sigh, crossed her arms over her chest and shimmied the tight, low-cut black top up past the black bra with its red lace trim that Hemi had been catching glimpses of all evening, and there was no chance he was going to stop looking now. She tossed it to one side, leaving her clad only in the bra, a little plaid pleated skirt that had clearly been designed with a naughty schoolgirl vibe in mind, and black over-the-knee stockings that were doing the business as well. Hemi had a feeling they’d be seeing whatever was under the skirt pretty soon, because she was fairly well away, and she didn’t seem to be trying that hard to win.

“I’m so
terrible,”
she wailed, an expression of comical distress twisting her bee-stung lips.

“Nah, darling,” Nikau said soothingly from opposite her, not bothering to hide his grin. “Good as gold. You just keep on playing. You’re distracting me so well, I’m bound
to start losing any time now, have to start getting my own kit off, tragic as the idea is. I hate to lose, all of us boys do. That’s the competitive fire in us. When we do, it’s a sad, sad experience. Think you can help me out with that, if it happens? Because that’s what I’m counting on.”

“Well…” A saucy smile curved her pretty mouth, and the wicked gleam in her blue eyes told Hemi that she had plans of her own for this party. She picked up her mallet again. “We’ll see. And you shouldn’t have told me that. Now I’ve got a psychological advantage.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nikau said, “you’ve had that from the start.”

She laughed, tossed her head of streaked blonde hair a bit, and cast a coy glance over her shoulder at the pool table, because Hemi and Nikau weren’t the only ones looking at her. “Is that right? You’d better look out, then, because I’m coming after you. I’m going to win, and then maybe, if you ask me very nicely, I’ll see what I can do about your sad experience.”

“You playing pool, mate,” Drew Callahan said opposite Hemi, amusement lurking in the gray eyes, “or watching?”

Hemi grinned back at his skipper, appointed only this season and already looking like he’d been born into the job. Not looking a bit pissed, either, whereas the three or four beers Hemi had had, on top of the tough match, were already having their effect. “Call it a break,” he suggested.

“Yeh,” Drew said. “Break’s over. Play pool.”

Hemi lost, not that it was a big surprise. Because the girl—Lexi, he thought her name was—
was
bad at air hockey, and before long, the skirt had joined the shirt, and it was just bra, undies, and those over-the-knee black stockings, and, well, he’d just say it was a good look on her.

Nikau had lost his own shirt, but Hemi wouldn’t have said he’d been trying as hard as he could have. More being efficient, getting his kit off ahead of time. The music was pumping, his teammates were wandering in and out, accompanied by what Hemi was beginning to suspect was half the off-duty personnel of the local Showgirls franchise and a fair few of their friends, just as Aaron had promised. Plenty of entertainment for just about every unpartnered member of the Blues squad, most of whom were here tonight.

“Another game?” Drew asked. Still annoyingly sober, Hemi realized through the haze of his own beer goggles. Good for a beer and a laugh and not much more, not when anybody was there to watch. Hemi knew that Drew had his own wild side—and a real weakness for blondes, because Hemi hadn’t been the only one looking. But whatever Drew got up to, he was always discreet.

“Nah.” Hemi set his cue back in the rack with some effort. “I’ve had a skinful. Going to call it a night. You?” He nodded in Lexi’s direction. “Don’t want to…party?”

Drew’s lips twisted. “Let’s say I’m more about exclusivity. Didn’t know you were, though.”

“Yeh, well.” Hemi shrugged. “I’m done for tonight, anyway.”

Drew looked at him dubiously. “Need a lift?”

“Nah. I’ll just have a bit of a lie-down.”

Drew hesitated a moment, and Hemi could almost read his thoughts. “No worries,” he told his skipper. “It’s all ka pai.”

Well, maybe not all. There was a couple on the couch doing some fairly serious snogging, a few more doing some very dirty dancing in the lounge, and Lexi had just missed another shot that had whizzed straight under the toned body she’d flung forward in her attempt to block it, leaving her perched on her tiptoes and sprawled across the table in her heels and very little else, because she’d lost both stockings, and what was coming off next was going to be pretty interesting. In short, things were looking like being out of control at this party in a hurry.

A year ago, Hemi’d have been right in there with the rest of them. Now…well, he was watching, couldn’t help that. But that seemed to be all he was doing.

He wandered out into the passage, eventually, finishing off his latest beer along the way, found the stairs, and lifted his feet with care onto each riser. Geez, he was pissed. He opened the door to a bedroom and shut it again pretty smartly. Whoops. Eventually, though, he found an empty room and collapsed on the bed without bothering with the covers.

Somebody ought to turn the music down before the neighbors rang the police, he thought fuzzily, and that was about the last thing he did think. For a while.

Until the girls turned up.

“T
hanks for coming,” Ana said on Sunday afternoon, opening the door to Reka’s knock with Tamati over her shoulder, looking back the other way. “Tai! Stop it!”

“Thought Auntie Kiri was taking the kids,” Reka said.

“Yeh.” It was a sigh. “She had to go over to the Vortex. Somebody didn’t come in. Again.”

“Training café,” Reka said. “Training them to show up, more like. Or trying to.” She reached for the baby, jogged him up and down in her arms, saw his little face light up with the beauty of his smile. Oh, how she’d miss her nephews when they left. Her heart twisted at the thought of it.

“Uncle Matiu said he’d take them,” Ana went on, “but I’m waiting till Tamati goes down for his nap. He can’t handle both.”