Page 45 of Star Rucked Lovers

“Antoine,” she corrected with a laugh. “And trust me, I’m just as annoyed about those rumours as you are. But I’ll handle it. I don’t want anything coming between us, George. Not him, not the media, not anything.”

“Good,” George said, grinning now, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Well, except training tomorrow morning. But you know what I mean.”

“Speaking of going somewhere,” Myst said, her tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. “I’m going to be in Dubai in a few weeks. Think you could manage a quick trip? I hear the city’s pretty romantic this time of year.”

“Dubai, huh?” He leaned back against the railing, already mentally calculating the logistics. Training schedules, flights, recovery days. It’d be tight, but he could make it work if he talked to the coach. Hewouldmake it work. “Pretty sure I can swing it. Might even bring you some Vegemite if you’re lucky.”

“Ah, bribery,” she said with a mock gasp. “How could I possibly resist?”

“Exactly,” he said, the grin widening. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to imagine it, seeing her again. Standing in the same room, laughing with her instead of into a phone. It felt like the sun breaking through storm clouds.

“Alright then,” Myst said, her voice softening again. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” George replied, the word settling warmly in his chest. “It’s a date.”

Chapter Sixteen

As the plane dippedbelow a canopy of clouds, George leaned closer to the tiny window. The city stretched out below him like a glittering treasure chest, its skyscrapers sparkling against the fading blush of the desert sunset. Dubai wasn’t just big, it was opulent. Even from the air, it felt like another world entirely, one he wasn’t quite sure how to navigate yet. A twinge of nervous energy curled in his stomach, but he shoved it aside. He was here for her, forthem. And that mattered more than anything.

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing,” crackled the announcement overhead, pulling him from his thoughts. George exhaled slowly, running a hand through his short, slightly dishevelled hair. His fingers brushed against the edge of the armrest, tapping out an uneven rhythm, a habit of his when he was restless.

By the time he stepped off the plane and into the warm, perfumed air of the terminal, his pulse had settled into something steadier. Myst had arranged everything, of course; her attention to detail evident in every step of the process. A man dressed in sharp black attire greeted him with a polite nod and led him to a sleek private car waiting outside. The leather seats practically swallowed George as he climbed in.

The driver eased the car into motion, merging seamlessly onto the well-lit streets. George watched the city blur past the tinted windows; the impossibly clean sidewalks, and silhouettes of impeccably dressed strangers. Everything about this place screamed extravagance, and while it was dazzling, it was also daunting. He couldn’t help but think of home, the easy sprawl of the Gold Coast beaches, the salty breeze tangling in his hair after practice. This, though? This was Myst’s world. Glorious. Expansive. A little bit intimidating.

“Alright, mate,” George muttered under his breath, straightening in his seat. “You’ve got this.”

The door to Myst’s suite swung open before George could knock twice, revealing her petite figure framed by the golden glow of the room behind her. She was barefoot, dressed in loose, silky loungewear that shimmered softly as she moved. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her pale blue eyes widened when they met his.

“George!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking into a delighted laugh. Before he could respond, she launched herself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his torso. Her head barely reached his chest, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in sheer enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey, easy there,” George teased, catching her effortlessly and laughing as he staggered back half a step. “You’ll knock me flat if you’re not careful.”

“With those rugby muscles? Not a chance,” she quipped, pulling back just enough to look up at him. There was a playful glint in her eyes, but her expression softened as she studied his face. “I missed you,” she said, quieter this time, the words carrying more weight than their simplicity suggested.

“Yeah?” George grinned, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. “Well, I missed youandthe sound of you hyping up my muscles. So we’re even.”

Myst rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound filling the space between them like music. She grabbed his hand, tugging him inside, and closed the door with a soft click. The suite was every bit as extravagant as the city itself, with plush furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline, and a marble table adorned with fresh flowers and an unopened bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. But George barely noticed any of it. His focus stayed firmly on Myst.

“How do you look this good after weeks on the road?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as she perched on the sofa and patted the spot beside her.

“Magic,” she answered matter-of-factly, patting her cheeks as if to emphasize her point. “And maybe a little caffeine. Okay, a lot of caffeine.”

“Figures,” he said, sinking down next to her with a sigh. “I’m pretty sure I aged ten years just flying here.”

“Poor thing,” Myst teased, resting her hand lightly on his knee. Her voice softened again, her smile turning wistful. “You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”

“Of course I did.” George turned toward her, his gaze steady and sincere. “This isn’t just a visit, Myst. It’s us figuring out how to make this work. You and me. And for the record,” he reached out, brushing his thumb along her jawline, “I’d fly halfway across the world for you anytime.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Myst leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed as the tension of the past few weeks seemed to melt away. Then, without warning, she shifted closer, curling into his side and resting her head against his chest. George wrapped an arm around her instinctively, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ve missed you every day,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and rough.

“Every day?” she asked, tilting her head just enough to glance up at him, a faint smirk pulling at her lips.

“Every single one,” he confirmed.

“Good,” Myst whispered, settling back against him. “Because I’ve been counting the days too.”

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