Page 57 of Stumped

And that was it.

Trust the team to keep me on tenterhooks for months only to tell me that I could play minutes before the match was about to start. In the locker room, surrounded by my friends and teammates, I changed into my uniform with shaky hands. I texted my family and called Vera, but couldn’t get through, so I sent her a bunch of texts. Then I was on the pitch, reminding myself to block out the cheering fans and the bright lights as I focused on the task at hand. Every muscle tightened at the realisation where I was and nodded dumbly at everything my teammate was saying. When the announcer said my name again, I did the needful and raised my bat to the stadium. Their response blew me away and Ifinallylet myself relax.

Poundingon my front door startles me awake. I got home after the match, had a shower and collapsed on the couch while watching the highlights. Blinking through the haze of sleep, I rub my eyes and stand. Every inch of me protests as I straighten up, my body having forgotten what it’s like to play for as long as I did tonight. The knocking stops and the bell rings a few times as I twist and stretch myself. On bare feet, I shuffle to the door and pull it open.

Nothing could have prepared me for the absolute vision on my stoop.

“Are you going to invite me in, superstar?”

Her hair is pulled up and a light sheen coats her exposed skin in a shimmery black dress. It’s being held up with barely there straps, but hugs her breasts beautifully and flows down to her knees. Thinking about how a whole bunch of other people saw her like this before I did makes me irrationally jealous. Then I remember she camehometo me and I inhale deeply, her peaches and vanilla scent sinking into me.

Kuriakose peeks out from the side and smiles sheepishly. “Thought about calling, but she insisted it be a surprise.”

Vera grins and pats his shoulder. “Thank you, Kuriakose.”

“Of course. Good night.”

He walks away and at her arched eyebrow, I step aside to let her in. I close the door and lean against it as she spins in place and I watch as her dress flares, flaunting the stretch marks along the back of her thighs. Her bangles are back, jingling as they bump each other. And when she turns to me, I shove my hands into my pockets to admire her. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen her, every time our eyes meet it’s like the first time.

She takes my breath away and makes my heart ricochet all over the place.

“Congratulations,” she rasps and a pleasant tingle shoots up my spine.

“Thank you.”

She hums and takes a step forward. “You were so beautiful on the field. It was so fucking hot.”

Holy shit. I swallow hard as I stare at her, hands fisting in my pockets as she moves closer. “You watched the match?”

Vera nods, her scent drifting over like coloured smoke in cartoons. “I’m sorry I missed all your texts and calls today. But I’m so proud of you.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” I say softly, not needing to talk at my usual volume because of how close she is.

“I wanted to be there for you. But I was out with my girlfriends, regular catch up. The screens were playing the match and when I first laid eyes on you, I couldn’t look away.”

That’s how I’ve felt about you since the moment we met.

“The way you swing so effortlessly every single time? How you look so relaxed at the crease, like this isn’t your career on the line and it’s only gully cricket. God, you’re spectacular. So fucking sexy.”

The gap between us gets smaller and I’ve lost the ability to think straight. I can now smell the alcohol on her breath, but it doesn’t take away from the moment we’re sharing. Her hand lands on my chest and the warmth of her touch seeps through my T-shirt.

“And how about that half-century from seventeen balls, huh?”

“Couldn’t break the record unfortunately,” I reply, because that’s what bothers me. I took some risks during the tenth ball and lost the chance to get those fifty runs earlier.

She grips my freshly shaved jaw. “Don’t belittle what you did. It was incredible. So what if you didn’t break the record tonight, there’s more games, right?”

“Matches,” I correct with a smile and she rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you watched cricket.”For me,I add silently as my heart presses too firmly against my ribs, it might rip itself open.

“I knew you were good, but there isn’t a word in the English language that expresseshowgood.”

“Vera…”

“You blew me away.”

“Thank you,” I force the words out.

She drags her hand up my chest and around my neck. I dip my head to press our foreheads together and she sighs. “The footage I’ve seen shows your talent. But you didn’t tell me you’rereallya superstar.”

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