Page 39 of Star Rucked Lovers

“Always,” he said softly, his playful tone ebbing into something gentler. His hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. For a moment, they just sat there, the chaos of the concert fading into the background.

Unspoken between them was the bitter truth that tonight was the last night. Tomorrow morning they’d catch planes heading in different directions and everything would get infinitely more complicated, but tonight… well, tonight Myst didn’t plan to waste a minute.

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Morning came too quickly, the Roman sun casting soft golden rays through the airport windows where Myst and George stood side by side. The soft hum of announcements overhead and the shuffle of travelers rolling luggage felt oddly distant, like white noise against the palpable silence between them.

“Budapest for you, Gold Coast for me,” George said, his Australian accent making the farewell sound more casual than it felt.

“Funny how that works,” Myst murmured, tugging her oversized scarf tighter around her neck. Her pale blue eyes flickered up to meet his, and for a fleeting second, she almost hated how steady and comforting his gaze was. It made leaving even harder.

“Hey,” George said, tilting her chin up gently with his finger. “None of that sad stuff now. We’ve agreed that distance is just a number, right?”

“True,” she admitted, letting out a small laugh. “But let’s not pretend this doesn’t suck.”

“Alright, it sucks,” he conceded with a grin. “But I’ll call you the second I land. And I don’t care if you’re mid-encore or halfway through a power ballad, you better answer.”

“Deal,” she said, her voice catching slightly on the word. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist as his strong arms folded over her shoulders, holding her tightly. She inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne, something crisp and woodsy that somehow always reminded her of home.

“Take care of yourself, angel,” he whispered into her hair. “And don’t let those suits push you too hard, yeah?”

“Only if you promise not to get tackled too hard,” she shot back, her words muffled against his chest. She pulled back just enough to look up at him. “You’re kind of important to me, you know.”

“Good,” he said simply, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because you’re everything to me.”

“Ugh, stop. You’re gonna make me cry in an airport,” she groaned, though her teasing tone couldn’t mask the shimmer in her eyes.

He kissed her then; soft and lingering, as if trying to memorize the taste of her. When they finally pulled apart, neither moved for a long moment, reluctant to break the fragile bubble around them.

“Go on, then,” he said gruffly, stepping back. His hands fell to his sides, clenched briefly into fists before relaxing again. “You’ve got Budapest waiting.”

“And you’ve got pre-season training,” she said, trying for a smile but falling short. Still, she nodded, steeling herself. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Always do,” George said, but the cockiness in his tone didn’t quite land.

Jessie was waving frantically; their flight was on final call. Taking a deep breath, Myst tore herself away, though she felt like she was leaving a part of herself behind. And though she didn’t turn around, she felt the weight of his gaze until she disappeared beyond the gate.

Chapter Fourteen

The salty tang ofthe ocean hung in the air as George pulled into the driveway of his parents’ house on the Gold Coast on Christmas Eve. The late afternoon sun stretched long golden streaks across the pavement, and the familiar sound of cicadas chirping in the gum trees brought a small smile to his face. Home. It felt good to be back. He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and took a steadying breath before heading inside.

“Georgie!” His sister Ellie bounded down the hallway like they hadn’t seen each other in years instead of just six months. She flung her arms around him, nearly knocking his breath out.

“Ellie!” he managed with a laugh, ruffling her hair. “Still incapable of subtlety, I see.”

“Not when you show up looking like that.” She stepped back, eyeing him with exaggerated suspicion. “You’re all broody. What’s wrong? Did your team lose a secret scrimmage or something?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said too quickly, brushing past her toward the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Ellie followed, clearly unconvinced.

The house was alive with the kind of chaos he’d missed while traveling for games and training camps. His mum was at the stove, humming along to an old Crowded House tune crackling from the radio. Another sister, Kate, sat at the counter peeling an orange, her phone propped up against a stack of cookbooks as it blared a makeup tutorial. Kids were shrieking as they threw a ball around in the backyard. George dropped his duffel on the floor with a thud, which made everyone look up.

“George!” Kate grinned, her face lighting up. “Merry Christmas! And what’s this?” She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Is that...loveI see written all over your face?”

“Don’t start,” he warned, pointing at her as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. His sisters exchanged knowing looks, which only made him groan inwardly.

“Come on, Georgie,” Ellie teased. “You can tell us. Who’s got you looking like someone stole your favorite rugby boots?”

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