Page 60 of Stumped

Vera

“That’s what friends do for each other.”

It’s the best lie I’ve told in my entire life. When we met a month ago, I only wanted to experience a few back-breaking and mind-blowing orgasms. Now, I want to be with this man and even though the past keeps replaying in my head, I’m not letting Elias go. I didn’t mean to say the words, but once they came out, I was afraid to backtrack. I might have said something even worse if I tried, but the truth is he’s been so much more than a friend since Mumbai.

And it fucking scares me.

This was the most unexpected twist to my year, but he’s been the best kind of surprise. Instead of saying that, I fumbled. I’ve never wanted to define the relationship before, never needed to tell someone I’m theirs, but with Elias I need to. He’s been mine for weeks. He should know I’m his too.

It’s been a week since he was reinstated on the line-up and he’s played two matches since his return, improving the Renegades run rate almost instantly. Now the team has a better chance of making it to the finals. He’s happier and his smiles are brighter. He’s also taken sex up a notch. It’s been wild andpassionate, almost like he’s trying to leave his imprint on the inside of my body.

But it’s been so much more than that. He texts and calls more than usual, every time he gets a few minutes to himself. When he went out of town for one match, he enlisted Kuriakose to bring me a box of my favourite sweets. The nights he comes to my place after practise, we cook together and take turns picking what we’re going to watch.And I still called him afriend, for shame.

The Renegades were in Hyderabad for an afternoon match and chance to knock the Hot Shots out of the running. I’m worried about how hard Elias is pushing himself. He promises he’s spending lots of time in physiotherapy and Dr. Theo is ensuring he’s fit to play. In the line-up, he’s always part of the middle order, coming in right when the team needs a big score. I know he’s capable and will win every match he plays, but all of the research about rotator cuff injuries says too much use can do more damage. I’ve tried to bring it up in as many round-about ways as possible, but he assures me everything’s fine. And I do trust him, but the fear doesn’t go away.

Superstar

Just landed, I was thinking we could do something tonight?

Are you sure? We can order in and stay on the couch.

Superstar

Feeling a little restless and need to do something with all this energy.

I was in and out of meetings all day, and spent so much time dealing with Mr. Selvaraj’s asshole behaviour I missed his match. I had it ready and real life came crashing down on me.Frowning, I load up the highlights on my iPad and fast forward through the first innings and most of the batting. When Elias steps up to the crease, I notice he’s stiffer than usual. He plays well, getting those boundary shots and snagging the necessary runs.

But there’s this frenetic look to him as the game comes to an end. He removes his helmet during the walk off the pitch and the camera zooms in on his face—his eyes are dark and unfocused. I’m no body language expert, but IknowElias Joseph and my superstar isn’t at his best. It worries me, but like my concerns about his shoulder, he’ll distract me and I’ll let it go.

My phone buzzes with a text from Millie. Apparently she and her fiancé, Jonathan, have tickets to a secret gig they can no longer attend and she wants to know if I’d like them.

How about a secret gig and dinner?

Superstar

How secret is this gig?

All I’ve got is the venue and the time, so pretty secret?

Superstar

I’m in.

See you at 9:45?

Superstar

Can’t fucking wait to see you.

When I openthe door to my apartment an hour later, he crowds me against the wall and presses his lips to mine. He kicks the door closed and I laugh before kissing him back.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” I mumble against his mouth and gently nudge him backwards.

“Wouldn’t want that.” He looks me over as I do the same to him. A plain black T-shirt hugs his torso, sleeves moulded perfectly to his biceps and dark blue stonewash jeans encase his legs. They’re cuffed at the bottom and lead to black shoes. In one hand, he has a dark cap different from the one he wore the night we met and in the other is a small bouquet.

“Are those for me?”

“Thought I could get all my favourite colours for my favourite girl, but this was all they had,” he says and hands the flowers over.My favourite girl. “You look beautiful, Vera.”

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