Page 128 of You, As You Are

The crowd that lined the stand roared as players clashed into a pile, the ball flying between bodies.

“Oh-oh-oh—Go—Go!” Maisie ended up screaming when it was Iain who caught it and ran full pelt, every muscle in his thighs explosive as he burst forwards. He was two-thirds up the field with men both on his tail and darting towards him, heading for the white line at the other end that seemed to score them points if they got the ball over it.

One of the opposition players dove to tackle him at the waist, but Iain dodged and they missed, and with his teammates getting the others to the ground, he had a clear run ahead.

The sound that came from the stand was deafening. Maisie’s eyes cut to the scoreboard and clock; their points were neck and neck and there was barely three minutes left.

“Run, Iain,” she yelled, and he might have actually heard her over the crowd because his legs pumped even quicker. The poor guy on his tail had no hope, reaching out and barely poking his back before Iain dove for the wet grass and slid over the line with the ball.

The crowd exploded into noise and Maisie jumped with her fists in the air, rugby ball earrings that she’d made specially for the occasion jumping with her as they dangled from her ears.

Iain had one second of rest before he was on his feet and trying to catch his breath. His teammates jumped on him with pride, and Maisie might have actually shed a tear at the way he grinned and celebrated.

“Someone you know,del??*”

She spun at the voice behind her and came face to face with an older man – not as old as Ronnie, but more mature nonetheless.

Oh dear.She could tell the truth – that they were only friends, technically, but what if it got back to one of the elders? They’d know that they were lying. Still full of adrenaline from celebrating, Maisie panicked.

“The one who just scored, he’s my …” Maisie didn’t expect this fake dating thing to go outside of their hiking group, and she didn’t know what other label to put on Iain – they hadn’t talked about who they’d become to one another. “Well, I guess he’s my boyfriend.” She had to raise her voice over the unsettled crowd.

The man drew a pale, liver-spotted hand from his coat pocket, and Maisie watched how it trembled as he adjusted his woolly hat. “That’s the … the Howell boy.”

“Do you know him?”

His voice dragged just a little. “Not anymore. I did when he was a lad.”

“Oh?” Maisie turned in what space there was available between the plastic seat and the railing at her back. She’d gone for the end of the first row of the tiered seating hoping that there would be fewer people trying to squish around her.

The man looked off to the pitch as a whistle blew. “You tell him to give Alun a call for me?”

A call? Who was this man?

“Sure … Does he have your phone number? Assuming you’re Alun?” If they hadn’t seen each other since Iain was young, then what were the chances he’d know how to get in contact?

“He will do.”

Was that all? “Oh … okay.”

The man took one step down from the row behind her, taking them extremely carefully as he gripped the railing. Maisie offered to help but he refused her, and he was gone a minute later.

IAIN

As though his arse were on fire, Iain sprinted through his shower routine and ran out of the team’s changing room with his kit bag slung over his shoulder. They’d won the game because of that last try he’d scored for them, with the fly-half taking it to conversion easily. If it were any other day, he would stay for the celebratory post-game drinks and food in the clubhouse with the lads, but his blood was hot and there was only one face that he wanted to see.

“Woah—where’s the fire? You’re burning up the carpet there.” Aron intercepted him two steps inside the function room, a good graze on his cheek from the game.

Iain clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m heading home.”

“You’re skipping out on us, Howell?” Cai was right by their side, pint in hand and sporting their club tie.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he said, grinning.

“Somewhere orsomeone?”

Thoughts of who waited for him outside put a smirk on Iain’s lips. “See you later, lads.”

“You better not.” Aron slapped his back as he barged between them, his dry tone full of insinuation.

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