Page 122 of Dream On, Liar

The team had travelled from Hamilton to Auckland the following afternoon, the bus taking just over an hour as we crossed through the traffic. Most of the squad had gone straight to the hotel or disappeared in groups the moment we arrived.

I had done neither.

Auckland was different from Hamilton.

Bigger. Louder. More anonymous.

That was what I'd wanted.

Three days where nobody needed me to be the cricketer with the injured shoulder, the player whose career had suddenly become a talking point, or the son of a man whose name had become synonymous with the parts of my life I'd spent years refusing to touch.

Especially when I’d spent most of the morning thinking about the fact that Maeve had smiled at me twice during the post-match presentation, and I was beginning to suspect I had a problem. The bus journey blurred into a mixture of music, sleep, bad jokes and people arguing over what to watch. I spent most of it with my headphones on. Not because I wanted to be alone. Because every time I looked across the aisle and saw Maeve reading, talking to Raina, or laughing quietly at something on her phone, I found myself watching her.

It was becoming embarrassing, and Oliver had given me enough amused looks to confirm the same thing.

I tried to sleep.

I failed.

Tried to go on social media, only to find myself knee deep in fan edits and comments asking who was in the room when I’d streamed the other day.

If I wasn’t going to let in my teammates, or even Oliver and my sister in on who it was, I sure as hell wasn’t about to announce to the world.

Even then, I was pretty sure between the two of us, I had been the only way who felt that strong about the spark I felt each time she was around. Which meant, while I would’ve considered the possibility of it, Maeve had her set of rules. One that I couldn’t get past. So a secret she remained.

Still, I couldn’t help but notice how ever since we’d made our deal, and stopped holding things against each other…there was tension that had lifted from Maeve. She was more involved with the squad, her friendship with my sister was clearly growing, and even I could see that she was enjoying it—being part of the team. But during the whole week, I couldn’t help but wonder, if she was as affected by what we had shared as I was.

And I was sure, if I didn’t find a way to make them stop, they would swallow me whole.

I wanted music.

Something loud enough to drown things out.

The concert venue was already glowing when I arrived, the entire place pulsing with people and light. The supporting act was due on in less than ten minutes, and the celebrity tent had begun filling with the usual collection of faces I recognised from television, sport and social media.

I had a drink in one hand, my jacket hanging open, my cap hanging low, and absolutely no intention of spending the night thinking, or being recognised.

Walking with my head low, I made my way to the tent when my shoulder knocked against someone else’s.

“Sorry.” I glanced up, only to meet the one person I was least expecting to find.

Maeve.

For one suspended second, neither of us moved.

The crowd noise around us seemed to thin.

Not disappear.

Just soften enough that I could hear my own heartbeat.

She blinked. “Rihaan?”

I laughed once. “Hi, Trouble.”

She looked around, a panicked look on her face. Almost as though she was checking if I was with someone, before her eyes darted to check whether someone had placed us in the same room deliberately.

“What are the chances?”