Page 84 of Full Tilt
I nod, dragging a hand down my face. “Getting there.”
Inside, I dump my bag near the door and kick off my trainers. Brent follows with less fanfare, slipping his keys and phone onto the counter. He says nothing when I sag down onto the couch and press my hands into my eyes.
A minute passes.
Then another.
He sits next to me, thigh against mine, and just lets me breathe.
Eventually, I check my phone again. A message from my brother lights up the screen.
Joel: Heard about the game. And Lachie. You all right?
My fingers hover. Then I type back a quick reply.
Me: Getting there. Thanks. Listen, do you mind if I bring someone to the wedding?
No sooner do I send it than I lower the phone and glance at Brent. “Hey,” I murmur. “You free a couple of nights before you fly out? My brother’s wedding… it’s the night before you leave. Would you wanna come with me? As my… plus-one.”
His face lights up like I just told him he won the bloody lottery. “Yeah,” he says instantly. “Of course. I’ll wear something fancy. But not too fancy. Because, you know, I’m still me.”
Despite everything—the fatigue, the bruises, the emotional sledgehammer that was today—I smile.
Brent watches me quietly for a moment, then reaches over, fingers curling gently around mine. His thumb strokes over the back of my hand, grounding. “You really okay?” he asks softly, not pushing—just present.
I nod once. Then again. “Yeah,” I say, voice hoarse. “Or… I will be.”
“That’s enough,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to be more than that tonight.”
I look down at our hands. Mine’s bigger, rougher. But it’s his that feels stronger somehow. Steadier. Holding me together in ways I didn’t realise I needed. “Thanks for being there. Today. With Lachie.”
He leans over and presses a kiss to my temple. “You’d have done the same.”
I snort. “I’d have decked the security guard.”
Brent chuckles against my skin. “I nearly did. He definitely thought I was trying to stage a pitch invasion.”
We fall into silence again, but it’s a comfortable one. One where I can close my eyes, just for a second, and let the day fall away.
Eventually, Brent shifts, pulling me gently until I’m tucked against his side. He rubs slow circles on my back, his lips at my temple again.
“I’ll look good in the wedding photos,” he says quietly, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
“God help me,” I murmur, but I press closer anyway, letting his warmth bleed into my skin.
Brent doesn’t hesitate when he kisses me again. “You sure you’re okay with bringing me along to something like that?”
“You’re the first person I want beside me,” I say, quiet but certain.
That gets me one of his smiles—the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes; it’s warm and real. It slides under my ribs and settles there, making my chest ache in the best way.
“I’ll charm the hell out of your family,” he whispers, lips brushing against my hair. “Cosmo will probably cry and tell me I’ve upgraded your entire existence.”
I huff out a laugh.
We fall quiet for a while after that, my eyelids drooping. This closeness, this quiet comfort is enough to settle my worried heart, my overthinking, and maybe even a little of my soul.
A small smile curves my lips as I feel myself drifting off to sleep.
