“Yeah.” He smiles faintly. “Now we just need to figure out what to do about Torres. I still don’t know why he’s here, if it wasn’t to fuck with me. I checked with Angus, and they’re definitely playing at Guards. He shouldn’t have time to come over, but I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s had the hose treatment now.” He laughs.
“Maybe that was the last we’ll see of him.”
“I fucking hope so, unless we meet in the Cup.” Silence settles between us, pensive and heavy. “If we draw again, we’re out. Wewon’t make it through the tournament. And it’ll jeopardize the points table.”
“You’re going to win the Cup, Miles, have faith.”
Lifting my hand, he presses his lips into my palm. “I’m going to borrow some of your certainty and hold on to it.”
“Miles,youhave to feel certain about something.”
“Yeah.” His eyes flick toward the clock on the bedside table. “I’m definitely certain about one thing.”
“Oh?”
“We’ve got forty-five minutes until dinner . . .” Before I have time to react, his body shifts over mine in one smooth movement, pinning me gently into the mattress. “And I know exactly how I’d like to spend them.”
Unsurprisingly, we ended up late.
CHAPTER 23
Miles
“FUCK,” I yell, spinning Messiah sharply toward the end of the pitch and the opposition’s goal, where the ball is flying, and gallop after it. “We cannot draw, or we’re out.”
I’ve literally just handed them a fucking goal and a free pass into the next stage of the tournament. And of course they take it and score.
The whistle blows. I’ve come back from worse scores in the final chukka, but something’s not sitting right. We were up three goals to one, and then I fell apart.
“Motherfucker,” Billy snaps, galloping up to me. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t know. My head is ...I can’t focus.” I don’t tell him that I swear I saw Torres again, standing by the far boards.
We head off the pitch for the final pony change. We have three minutes to dismount, remount, and get back out there. It’s as finely tuned as the pit stop at Silverstone. I jump off Messiah and jog to a patiently waiting Clover. I’ve saved her for this chukka, and she’s brimming with such unspent energy, I can feel it coursing through her.
Ruby’s standing to the side, watching me, checking I’m okay. I nod and desperately want a kiss, but Juan rides over before I can reach her.
“What’s up with you, my friend? Your head is all over the place.” His dark brown eyes narrow under his thick bushy brows. The same concern as Billy has written all over his face.
“I know, I know. I can’t—there’s something I can’t shake, and I don’t know what it is.”
Except I do. Seeing Torres yesterday, knowing he’s been here, could still be here. ..Everything pulls me back to the day of the accident, when I was about to hit the ball, and he crossed my line. I ended up in the hospital with half a ton of pony falling on top of me because she couldn’t get out of the way fast enough.
And then a month in the hospital.
Broken ribs, broken legs, induced coma . . .
I shake off the memories and focus on Juan.
“Miles, the handicaps come out in a few weeks. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself to get to ten. You’ll get there, my friend.”
“I’m putting a normal amount of pressure on myself. It’s not the handicap?—”
“Then what?”
“It’s Torres. I swear I saw him along the boards.”
Deep lines cross Juan’s face. “He’s playing at Guards.”
