Redemption (3 page)

To me, he was the asshole who acted nice one minute and then blamed me for his own fuck ups. I hadn’t seen him in eight years, and I could quite happily go another eight.

“Why not?” Maisie asked, as Mom walked outside for a cigarette. “Don’t tell me you still have a crush on him?”

“Maisie,” I scolded, looking around to make sure Mom hadn’t heard. “Don’t talk like that. He’s our stepbrother.” 

“Even as a six-year-old, I picked up on the tension between you two. Besides, he clearly feels the same way about you. He asks about you every time we speak online.”

“He does? Wait, what do you tell him?” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t tell him how boring your life is. I pretend you have a social life and go out on dates and things.”

“I do have a… no, I’m not getting another lecture from my little sister. Let’s figure out the logistics of this trip before I change my mind about going with you.”

“You know, using words like ‘logistics’ really takes the fun out of big international adventures. Come on, let’s get online and do some shopping. I need a new summer wardrobe, and you... well, you just need an entirely new wardrobe.” 

“Can you believe we’re in first class?” Maisie asked, as she tapped her cup of orange juice against my whiskey. 

“No,” I replied. “I can’t.” Nothing about this trip made any sense. Once I decided to join Maisie on the trip, I called England Rugby who confirmed that the scout was real and the entire thing was legitimate. They were fine with me accompanying Maisie, but said I needed to buy my own ticket. 

The flight was going to set me back nearly a thousand dollars, but just before I bought the ticket I got a call back from a representative who said that England Rugby would pay for everything. The next thing I knew, we were both booked in first class for a trip to London. 

“I knew rugby was a lot bigger in England,” Maisie said, “but this is kind of insane. First class tickets for a fourteen-year-old female player is unheard of.” 

“Please don’t go getting your hopes up,” I said, for what must have been the tenth time at least. 

“I know, I know. This is just a summer and I’m not suddenly going to become some rich and famous rugby player like Olly.” 

“You don’t want to become like Oliver.”

“Just because he made one mistake in the 2007 World Cup Final, doesn’t make him a bad rugby player overnight.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I took a long sip of my whiskey. 

Just the mention of Oliver’s name made me need a drink to calm my nerves. Maisie kept insisting we meet up with him at some point, but that would be tough to arrange with Maisie at a training camp all summer and Oliver playing rugby for West London R.F.C.

Maisie started to argue with me, but she knew talking about Oliver annoyed me so she kept quiet. She still owed me for coming along on this trip with her, and that bought me a few minutes of silence. 

We were the first off the plane when it landed, and our priority pass took us straight to the front of the line at “Her Majesty’s Customs.” The name sounded a little old-school, but the officers were far more cheerful and pleasant than their contemporaries at the Transportation Security Administration. Mind you, that was like saying Maisie was better than most girls at rugby; true enough, but the bar was set pretty low.

“Business or pleasure, ladies,” the officer asked as he checked our passports. 

“Business,” Maisie replied. “I’m here to play rugby.” 

The officer frowned—never an expression you wanted to see at Customs. “You’re being paid to play rugby here?” 

“No, she’s not,” I said. “She’s here for a summer camp playing rugby.”

“Ah, good. Because otherwise you’d be on the wrong visa. What about you, Ma’am?”

“I’m here to look after her, and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

“Business then,” the officer joked. 

I smiled and took the passports back from the officer and headed to pick up our bags which were first off the plane. Things were going well so far, at least. 

Once into the main airport we followed the signs for the taxi stand, until I felt Maisie tugging on my sleeve.

“We have a driver,” Maisie said. “Look.”

Maisie pointed to a man holding up a sign saying ‘Maisie Portman.’ This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. 

“You must be Maisie,” the driver said, as we approached. “Pleased to meet you. My name’s Bob and I’ll be your driver.”

I had never gotten the hang of British accents, but Bob sound like he was from London. A local would be able to pinpoint exactly where, but all I knew was that he didn’t sound like Oliver which meant he probably wasn’t from West London. 

“Hi Bob,” Maisie said. “This is my sister, Michelle.” 

I shook Bob’s hand and asked where we were going.

“Your hotel is about a forty-five-minute drive from here,” Bob replied. “The traffic’s an effin’ disaster at this time of day. Let me take your bags.” 

“That’s okay, we can carry our own bags,” I said. 

“Don’t be daft. I’m the driver. Besides, wouldn’t be right of me to let two beautiful ladies like you carry your own bags.”

“Thanks, Bob,” Maisie said cheerfully, handing over her bag. I reluctantly followed suit and let Bob lead the way outside, where he took us straight to a waiting limo.

“You’re kidding me,” Maisie exclaimed when she saw it. “We have a limo.”

“You know, at this point, I’m not even surprised.” Everything about this trip was odd.

Maisie jumped in the limo as soon as the door opened. A second later I heard her scream. 

This entire time I’d known something was up. The trip seemed too good to be true. If Maisie had been attacked again I’d never be able to forgive myself.

I looked inside the limo and saw Maisie with her arms wrapped around a man on the back seat. He saw me and my eyes locked onto his. I’d recognize those dark green eyes anywhere. He pushed Maisie off him and smiled at me. 

“I have a feeling you’re surprised now,” Oliver said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “It’s been a long time, Michelle. So, are you pleased to see me?” 

The limo suddenly felt small and claustrophobic, but I stepped inside and let Bob close the door behind me. 

Maisie sat down opposite Oliver and I took a seat near her. I should have sat next to him; at least that way I wouldn’t have to look at him. I would have been able to smell him though. He always smelled irresistible, regardless of whether he was going out for the evening or had just finished a game of rugby.

“It’s Olly,” Maisie said, stating the obvious. “Can you believe it? This trip just gets better and better.” 

“I’m glad one of you thinks so,” Oliver said. “Your sister doesn’t look so pleased to see me.”

“Ignore her,” Maisie said, clearly already doing just that. “She’s just tired from the trip.”

I wasn’t at all tired. I’d never felt more awake. What was he doing here? It had been eight years. Eight painful, frustrating years without so much as a word from him. Now he was just a few feet away, smiling at me as if we were old friends.

I stared at Oliver in his dark gray suit, with a white shirt, and pink tie. At least this way I couldn’t see his legs. I’d always been unable to resist Oliver’s thighs. They were built like tree trunks and composed entirely of muscle. Most rugby players had strong legs, but Oliver’s still stood out among the crowd. 

“Would you like a drink, Michelle?” Oliver asked. 

Was that it? ‘Would you like a drink?’ How about ‘sorry for acting like a fucking idiot all those years ago, Michelle?’ 

“Just a water,” I replied. 

Oliver leaned forward with a bottle of water from the cooler in the door, and I took it gingerly by the lid to avoid making contact with Oliver’s hand. Even after all these years, I didn’t trust myself around him. He hadn’t changed much. There was more stubble around his face and his dark brown hair was more disheveled, but he was still the same old Oliver, for better and for worse. Mainly for better.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I’m going to assume the limo and the first class flight tickets are something to do with you?”

“Yep,” Oliver replied. “Traveling first class helps with the jet lag and I didn’t want you to take a week getting acclimatized.”

“Thought as much.”

“That’s Michelle’s way of saying ‘thank you,’” Maisie added.

I looked away as Oliver smiled at me. I’d rather he think I was just rude, instead of seeing the longing I still had for him in my eyes. Even Maisie had picked up on the way I used to look at him, and she’d only been six at the time. I dreaded to think how obvious it would be now.

“Do you work for England Rugby?” I asked. 

“No,” Oliver replied, “but the whole initiative with getting women playing rugby is run in conjunction with my club. I’m kind of an ambassador for the program I suppose.”

“That’s awesome,” Maisie exclaimed. “That means we’re going to see a lot of you this summer, then?”

Oliver looked over at me, still smiling. “Oh yes, I’ll be around. In fact, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” 

I met his gaze this time, but inside I was trembling. Not with excitement like Maisie, but with fear for what the summer might hold. Oliver was bad news, but I was drawn to him like I’d never been drawn to another man. No one before or after him had come close. 

I’d tried to move on, I really had. Maisie liked to comment on the lack of men in my life, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been on dates or had boyfriends. I even had a relatively active sex life. Not a good sex life, but an active one. 

I’d never been able to find a man that made me feel the way Oliver did. Some of them had made me laugh, and a few had been charming, but Oliver made me truly feel something. Something deep inside. Something between my legs. God, so many feelings between my legs. 

But there was another side to Oliver. Maisie saw him as the cool older brother that she never got to see, but I saw him as the man who had thrown us out of his life when things went wrong. He’d accused Maisie and me of “distracting him from his game” and had made it quite clear he wanted us to stay out of his life. That was eight years ago.

I’d happily obliged, and hadn’t spoken to him since, but Maisie had been too young to remember what had happened. Now he had purposely brought us back into his life, and this time he seemed only too happy to have us around. What had changed?

One thing was for certain, if he kept smiling at me like that, it was going to be damn difficult to keep hating him. He already had Maisie’s trust and friendship, but he’d have to do more than buy us first class plane tickets to regain mine. Not after what he had done.