Page 97 of Try Hard
Mum’s tone told me she, too, knew that Ophelia was stunning, but I wasn’t worried it was the same way Soph thought that—or how I did.
Soph sighed dramatically. “Fine. But, if she flirts with me first, I’m not refraining from flirting back.”
My insides boiled at the thought. “She’s not going to flirt with you,” I said, attempting to keep my voice light.
“Just because you don’t want her to, doesn't mean she won’t. We’re all adults here.”
“Are we?” I muttered, following Mum into the kitchen. Honestly, I didn’t feel much like an adult with how nervous I was about seeing Ophelia—or with how irrationally worried I was that shemightflirt with Soph. I knew she wasn’t going to. She’d told me more than enough times that she wasn’t interested. It had just been a long time since I’d cared about anything this much, and I’d lost the only other thing I’d loved like this. Of course, caring about rugby was nothing like caring about Ophelia, but the intensity of the two was not dissimilar.
Neither my mum nor Terrance would let me help with food prep—if that hadn’t been a regular thing, I’d have thought they just didn’t want someone so obviously nervous helping, but they liked looking after everyone else. They were well-matched likethat. However, it did mean that I was stuck simply standing in the kitchen, waiting.
I suppose I could have sat down with Soph or Herc, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the clock and when Ophelia would arrive.
She was exactly on time. Unsurprising, really. She’d always been on time or early.
The first sign that anything was happening was Herc running for the door, the sight of which caused my heart to feel like it was plummeting through my body and out through the soles of my feet. That was a new sensation. Apparently, there was no end to the feelings Ophelia could elicit in me. I wasn’t upset about that, even if I did feel wobbly as I moved to get the door, pretending I couldn’t hear the excited chattering in the kitchen.
“Archer,” Ophelia said, failing to fully bite down on her smile when I opened the door.
She was so fucking radiant. I could have stood there all day, just looking at her, talking to her. The way she carried herself, all those thoughts that were so obviously brewing under the surface—I wanted to know everything that ever happened in her mind, every single thing she’d ever loved, ever hated, ever wanted. I desperately needed to know every answer she’d ever want to give to every question the universe could ask.
“Ophelia,” I managed to get out, but I sounded ridiculously breathless. I wasn’t even particularly embarrassed. She was breathtaking and she deserved to know that. “Come on in.”
The whole thing felt exactly like I was introducing the love of my life to my family—and to my sister, who fancied her. How awkward.
She looked down as she walked past me into the house, but her proximity was clearly calculated because she reached her fingertips out to brush against my hand as she moved, and I wasabout ready to die before we’d even made it to dinner. Nobody had ever made me feel so enthralled in my whole life.
“Fia!” Mum said, appearing in the kitchen doorway as if she hadn’t been eagerly awaiting her arrival.
“Ms.—oh. I just realised I don’t actually know your last name.” Ophelia blinked rapidly.
“It’s still Archer. I liked that a lot better than my maiden name, so I just stuck with it, but that’s irrelevant anyway. Call me Marnie.”
“Marnie. Nice to see you again.”
I blinked. She remembered meeting my mum. At some match a million years ago. Sherememberedmeeting my mum.
Mum smiled. “You too, dear. Only, this time, you’re looking after my other daughter. I should start paying you.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Ophelia said promptly, waving her hands rapidly.
I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me. Given all the things I wanted to do with Ophelia, the idea of my mum paying her feltdeeplyinappropriate.
“Well,” Soph said, appearing beside Mum, “Eve’s clearly not looking after you very well, so maybe you do need compensation.”
I shot her a look.
She grinned deviously. “Shall I take your coat?”
Fuck. I absolutelyshouldhave asked if I could take Ophelia’s coat. How was my younger sister better at this than I was?
Ophelia laughed. “That’s not necessary. Thank you.”
She handed me her bag momentarily to take her own coat off, apparently eager to be rid of it before Soph tried simply taking it from her. At least we all knew Soph was a good partner when she was dating. I, clearly, had some areas for improvement.
I hung Ophelia’s belongings in the coat closet, a little too happy about placing hers next to mine, the two of them touching. I was like a child. And, by the time I was done grinning at a pair of coats, Mum and Soph had led her into the kitchen, gotten through introductions with Terrance, and Soph had claimed the seat next to Ophelia at the breakfast bar.
“Do you remember how much Mr. Haverall used to hate me?” Soph was saying, which seemed to have come from somewhere, but I’d missed the preceding conversation.
