Page 15 of Playing for Possession
“Why what?”
“Why do you need to stay positive?”
“It’s what people say, isn’t it? Stay positive. Hang in there. Keep your chin up.” I pasted on a smile and trotted out the words my well-meaning family issued to me on repeat.
He scowled. “I don’t believe in all that positivity bullshit. You don’t have to stay positive.”
A surprised chuckle escaped me. “I’ve never heard anyone make positivity sound like a bad thing.”
His inked biceps bulged when he folded his arms. “Sometimes everything is shit. I don’t like the pressure of pretending it’s not, and I don’t like people that pressure me to pretend it’s not. If you’re showing up and doing the work, that’s enough.”
An interesting take. If only it was true. Showing up and doing the work might be enough for someone like him. Not for me. Not for my dad.
He surveyed me with an intense brooding gaze. “I suppose you’re happy about the commercial. You got what you wanted.”
What I wanted? Excuse me?Still, better not to moan about it in case word got back to Claire or the others. Whining about a free holiday that others here would kill for wouldn’t win me any friends.
“It’s good for... building my brand.” I trotted out Skylar’s words.
“Your brand. Right.”
His stony face and flat tone irked me. Did he honestly believe I wanted to do this commercial? “You seemed pretty adamant you weren’t going to do it. I’m surprised you changed your mind.”
“Are you?” His narrowed eyes were accusing, even though I had no idea what I’d done wrong.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Yes.”
His gaze flicked to my phone on the bench and the lock screen photo of Ollie. The photo had been taken at the launch party for Ollie’s third album. Ollie sprawled across the hood of his fuchsia Lamborghini, wearing an oversized silver coat and looking like a baked potato wrapped in tinfoil. I posed next to him in fits of giggles.
Kieran’s sharp, critical gaze didn’t budge from the photo on my screen. His lips thinned with displeasure. What was this guy’s problem? I’d spent the past nine months mostly alone or in the physio office. It hadn’t exactly sharpened my social skills, but at least I wasn’t purposefully rude.
“Do you know Ollie?” I spoke just to break the weird silence. “He’s friends with your brother.”
“I knowofOllie.”
What was that supposed to mean? My family was eccentric, but I’d never known anyone nicer than my brother. To me, he would always be the earnest ten-year-old kid who had held a funeral for a dead magpie and forced us to listen to the song he’d composed in the unfortunate bird’s honor. “Majestic Magpie” had five falsetto verses with key changes and a bridge. I suspected he’d recycled some of it for his most recent album.
My heart pounded.Don’t be difficult. Don’t give people what they expect from you.I didn’t do confrontation, but this was my brother. No one got to look at him like that. “Do you have a problem with Ollie?”
He stepped closer. My nose filled with his manly scent. He smelled like the inside of a lacquered box—of cedar and leather. His mouth twisted wryly. It wasn’t really a smile. I’d never seen him smile. Not once. Not even when he was cracking sarcastic jokes about Fizzz. Maybe he never smiled.
“I don’t have a problem with anyone.”
Liar.He looked like he had a problem with the air around him.
“Get yourself a spotter next time you lift or you’re going to hurt yourself,” he said.
Arrogant man.I knew how to lift. Just my luck, he’d caught me making my first mistake in this gym. His scowling appraisal made me hot and awkward, but I fought to hold his gaze.
I forced a polite smile. “I’d better let you get on with training. See you at the airport.”
He lifted his headphones back up. “You will.”
He marched to the men’s changing room without a glance back.
Chapter 7
Kieran
