Page 67 of Playing for Possession
Fine. I didn’t care what my knee looked like. It could have been so much worse today. A few bruises, but I’d gotten away with it this time.
“I’ve got plenty of scars. Look at the state of this.”
Kieran pulled up his shorts and flashed a glimpse of his strong, toned thigh. A long white raised scar sliced down the exterior. He traced a finger over it. “I was fourteen, pratting about trying to impress a girl, and I fell off a wall. I ended up looking like a bloody shark has taken a chunk out of me.”
“But did you get the girl?”
“Of course not. I looked like an absolute plonker.”
He propped himself up to face the ocean.
“At least people can see the scars on my knee. The rest aren’t so obvious,” I said.
He kept his gaze fixed on the waves. “I get it. Sometimes the worst scars are the ones you can’t see. Coming back from any injury is tough. Of course there will be scars. The physical ones and the mental ones. No one is going to judge you for that, least of all me. I’ve got plenty of my own scars.”
What scars did Kieran Earnshaw have? I had the sudden intense need to know. I lifted my dress above my knee, exposing the bumpy line that dissected my kneecap. “They had to remove the old tendon and replace it with a graft.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Ten years ago, this would have ended your career.” He bit his lip, his voice tentative. “Can I touch?”
I shrugged. “If you want. It’s still numb. Sometimes it’s really itchy.”
“Is this OK?” He brushed his finger lightly over the scar.
“Yes.” A shot of electricity went through me at the contact. He traced a wide circle around my kneecap. My heart fluttered wildly. His touch resonated everywhere, as though his warm fingers were brushing a soft line down my neck, between my breasts, along my spine.
“It could have been worse. I get to play again. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to focus on the positives.”
His touch was soothing, and his eyes were soft and caressing. “I told you my feelings about all that. It’s an extra stick to beat yourself with. You don’t have to hide your pain.” He swallowed and his eyes met mine. “I can tell you it doesn’t work that well.”
He lifted his head from my knee, and for a moment I lost myself in the way the fading sun played over his strong features.
He stretched his arms above his head. “Are we swimming?”
No. He wasn’t going to dodge the question that easily. “What pain have you had to hide?”
“The same as anyone. No one gets through life unscathed. Some scars you can see and some you can’t.”
I waited for him to go on, but he turned back to the sea.
“Tell me. I want to know.”
He swallowed. “My dad walked out on us when Jack was a baby. He wasn’t a nice man. He ran with a gang who got into fights after football matches. We don’t speak. No birthday cards. Nothing. Occasionally, he pops up in the tabloids when he’s selling a story about me as a kid. The last I heard, he’d been locked up again. It’s been tough for Jack, growing up without a father.”
I kept my voice soft. “Tough for you, too?”
He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I’ve tried my best to be there for Jack, but I left him to play in Madrid, and it was a difficult time for him. Mum worked a lot. I think he felt very alone. I wish I hadn’t left him.”
My heart broke at his world-weary expression. “No one could pass up an opportunity to play for Real Madrid. I’m sure he understands.”
“Maybe. I guess that’s why I’m not into the positivity thing. Sometimes life is difficult. It’s worse not to acknowledge it.”
“But then what? Stay sad forever?”
Faint humor edged his voice. “That was kind of the plan.” He twisted to look at me. “Then I met you. I don’t feel as sad as I did.”
My fingers ached to drag him toward me. The tension that always flared between us pulled tight with an exhilarating intensity.
“Kieran?”
