Page 50 of Star Rucked Lovers

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Myst shot back, laughing. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with amusement, the kind that always seemed to disarm him completely. “This is your world, not mine.”

“Maybe,” he allowed, his grin softening into something quieter, more private. “But you fit into it pretty damn well.”

For a moment, the noise of the crowd, the flashing cameras, everything faded into the background. It was just the two of them standing there, her presence as natural and steady as the earth beneath his cleats. And for the first time in weeks, George felt like he could finally catch his breath.

George slung an arm over Myst’s shoulder as they walked around the edge of the field. The air still buzzed with post-match energy, his teammates clustered in small groups near the sidelines, their voices rising and falling in celebration.

“Oi, Dennis!” Lachie called out, a grin plastered across his face as he jogged toward them. “So this is the famous Myst, huh? Finally!”

“Famous?” George drawled, tilting his head down toward Myst with a smirk. “I don’t know about that.”

“Please,” Lachie cut in, eyes wide as he looked at her like she’d just descended from the heavens. “You’reMyst. My mum’s a huge fan, would kill me if I didn’t at least say hello.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Myst quipped, her pale blue eyes sparkling as she extended a hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Lachie.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Lachie stammered, clearly trying not to trip over his words. He shook her hand a little too enthusiastically before scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… any chance you’d mind a quick photo? For my mum, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Myst echoed with a teasing smile. She glanced up at George, who was valiantly trying, and failing, not to laugh. “Is this what it’s like for you after games?”

“Pretty much,” George said, shrugging. “Except no one ever asks me for selfies.”

“That’s because your skills are on the field,” Myst said smoothly, turning back to Lachie. “Not that I blame anyone for being impressed, it’s pretty incredible watching this guy play.”

“Alright, alright,” George muttered, his ears heating despite himself. “Let’s not inflate my ego too much.”

“Too late,” Myst teased, leaning into his side briefly as Lachie fumbled with his phone. She posed effortlessly for the photo, her charm utterly disarming as she laughed and gave Lachie’s camera a casual thumbs-up.

“Thanks so much,” Lachie said, practically bouncing as he backed away. “You’re a legend. Oh, and great game, Cap!”

“Yeah, yeah,” George muttered, waving him off as Myst stifled a laugh.

“Your friend’s adorable,” she said once Lachie was out of earshot.

“Adorable wasn’t exactly the word I had in mind,” George replied dryly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his expression. “Come on, I need to get a shower and change.”

The stadium was nearly empty by the time they found a quiet spot high in the stands, the roar of the crowd fading into memory. George stretched his legs out in front of him, resting one arm along the back of the seat behind Myst. She tucked her knees up, wrapping her arms around them as she gazed out at the field where the floodlights cast long shadows across the grass.

“Can’t believe this is your life,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of awe. “Watching you out there… it was like seeing a whole different side of you.”

“Different how?” he asked, glancing at her profile. Her hair caught the light, tumbling over her shoulders in dark waves.

“Like you belonged,” she said, turning to meet his gaze. “Completely, undeniably. It’s not hard to see why everyone looks up to you, on and off the field.”

“Guess it’s not so different from watching you on stage,” George replied after a moment, his voice quieter now. “You light up your world the same way.”

She smiled at that, a soft, private smile that made his chest tighten in the best possible way. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Though I reckon you’ve got better lighting.”

“Touché,” she murmured, leaning into his touch briefly before settling back against the seat.

For a while, neither of them spoke, letting the silence stretch comfortably between them. The weight of everything they’d been through, individually and together, seemed to settle lightly in the air, not heavy but present, like a thread connecting one moment to the next.

“Kind of crazy, isn’t it?” Myst said eventually. “How we ended up here. Feels like just yesterday we were trying to figure out if this…” she gestured between them, “could even work.”

“Yeah,” George agreed, his voice warm. “But we’ve done alright, haven’t we?”

“More than alright,” she said, her pale blue eyes meeting his again. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

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