Page 68 of Stumped

Twenty-Two. You needed me

Elias

Everywhere I look, there’s another fielder. The only open spaces look dangerous and losing another wicket is not an option. I straighten and the umpire holds an arm out to let the bowler know I’m not ready. With my head on a swivel, I try to find an opening and see one. Nodding, I roll my shoulders back and make eye contact with Bash. He taps the outside of his bat and I twirl mine before knocking it against the rough ground of the pitch—he’s saying ‘take the six, swing and let it fly into the stands’.

The bowler makes his way over and everything else fades away except for how his arm curves over his head and the ball is heading to me. I step forward, focus never leaving the leather and cork. The vibration runs up the bat and through my arms as I take the shot, the sound reaching me seconds later. I’m already inrunmode and Bash is doing the same, meeting halfway as the ball lands in the hand of a fielder that came out of nowhere. My heart drops and the stadium goes silent.

I fucked up.

The walk back to the Renegades box is in silence. I don’t notice which teammate is replacing me on the field. All I can focus on is my failure. On the fact I had a shot to play the bestgame of my life and I completely fucked up. I strip off my pads, gloves and helmet. I sink into a chair in the back, away from the cameras and everyone else. I slip on my headphones to block out the noise, but I can still hear the commentators discussing my mess.

“That could have been such a fantastic shot by Elias Joseph. He’s been on fire the last few games and tonight he seems to have forgotten how to play. For those of you watching at home, this is not an issue with your device’s volume control. Chepauk is silent as they try and process how their saviour could fail them so spectacularly. What do you think, Eric?”

“I agree, Hari. That was not a good showing from Joseph. Maybe he got too complacent and lazy during his recovery that when they’re in a tight spot, he can’t deliver. Maybe he’s all spark and no actual sizzle. What if we’ve been holding him to this higher standard when he’s actually very average? This might be the end of the Renegades and the fans need to accept their team is not good enough. That Elias Joseph is not worth the hype.”

I startle awake, chest heaving. My breath feels unsteady and every inhale burns my lungs. Sucking in large gulps of air, I wait for the uncomfortable feeling to pass. The commentators’ words—which are a total figment of my imagination—play on a loop, softer and more distant. Spewing ugly shit about me and my team. Tears prick the corners of my eyes and I close them briefly, trying to find my strength. The wordfailurerepeats over and over, like a tattoo against my skull and I hate it.

“I’ve got you.” The voice is rough with sleep, raspy and sexy as a warm hand brushes over my bare chest.

My breath shudders and I look at the woman lying beside me. She’s rumpled from sleep, her dark hair a mess and her eyes half open. Everything else slowly comes into focus—her warm, naked body pressed to mine, the soft hum of the air conditioner, thedull light trying to break through the curtains. Nothing matters but Vera. I shift and turn onto my side, and she blinks as her gaze settles on me.

All I want is to forget the nightmare, to forget everything that happened last night. I want to drown in her, bury myself so deep all the bad shit erases itself from existence. Her stare is dark and I wonder if I look the same; hungry and desperate for her. My attention dips to her mouth; pink and soft and slightly parted.She’s my everything, I think and kiss her. My arm slides around her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her softness against my hot skin makes me moan. My hand drags up her back and into her hair, fisting the thick dark mass as I kiss her harder, fiercer and urgently. I can’t get enough of her. I want to crawl inside her and never leave. She mewls into the kiss and I swipe my tongue into her mouth, tugging at her hair. Her hands land on my chest and I take more, tasting her in every way I can. Her tongue tangles with mine and I growl, the sensation sending fire through my whole body.

Her hands pushing against my chest makes me pull away, a gentle suck and nibble on her bottom lip before I release her. She’s breathing heavily too, skin flushed as she stares at me. It’s clear she has questions, but something is holding her back. I can’t remember much after leaving Chepauk, other than telling Kuriakose to drop me off at Vera’s place. I have no idea what she saw or what I said when she got home. I move in to kiss her again and she leans away, shaking her head as her eyes meet mine.

“Are you okay?”

I grunt and attempt to get another kiss in, but she scoots out of reach. Burying my face in the soft cotton, I release a growl of frustration. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think or focus on the shit. I want to forget everything and be with her.

Why won’t she let me be with her?

“I’m fine,” I say, looking past her to focus on the fluttering curtain.

“Wanna try that again while looking into my eyes?”

“Not really.”

“Baby,” she whispers and that’s what makes me look at her. She’s not pitying me, but worry is etched into her face. “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”

I remember nothing but the mess I made on the pitch, so words? They escape me. I hesitate, wondering if I confessed my undying love, but I don’t think Vera would play this game with me if that was the case. I shake my head and search her eyes. “What did I say?”

“You said you failed.”

“I did.”

“Elias.”

“I love how you say my name,” I tell her, the goosebumps and shivers up my spine plenty proof of that.

“Be serious for a minute.”

“Why? Yesterday was a shitshow. I fucking hate myself and I’m a failure.”

Vera frowns, worry completely erased from her expression. With a firm nod, she rolls out of bed, putting her deliciously soft and beautiful naked body on display. I’m so horny and hard I’m not even thinking about the fact she’s leaving me alone in bed. That she’s upset with me. She tugs on a large T-shirt, covering what I was admiring and I sit up. With a glance, shakes her head and starts for the door, but changes her mind and returns to glare at me.

Sweet baby Jesus, she’s so fucking hot when she’s angry.

“You’re a coward.”

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