Page 57 of Dream On, Liar

“I don’t know. A strong five?”

She frowned. “I’m not asking about the overall pain. I mean when I do this.”

She pressed the same spot again.

My hand flew up instinctively, covering the place she'd touched. “Ow.”

Her expression sharpened immediately.

“Fine. It’s at an eight.”

She shook her head, like she instantly knew what I meant. “Rihaan.”

“What?” Refusing to give in, I lowered my arm. “It’s nothing.”

Surprise caught me again when Maeve merely pressed her lips into a thin line, moved her hands back to the spot, and forced me to shift my gaze back towards the wall.

I finally spoke again, making a genuine attempt to not sound defensive. “I wasn’t having a tantrum.”

“Sure looked like one.” She sounded completely unbothered.

As though then something snapped in her—something that had been holding her back—and she huffed, moving until she was the only thing in my focus.

“Why are you guarding your pain?”

Her pitch startled me. “I told you I’m fine.”

“God, you’re such a liar.” She looked like she wanted to pull her hair out. Before I could reply, she continued. “Look, I can’t work like this. Do you know how lucky you are?”

“I—”

“Still talking,” She pointed to her mouth, pulling my attention straight to her lips and before I could help it, my mind was playing replay on the memory when I was completely owned by them.

Only, now I had no desire to repeat that memory.

Liar.

Maeve snapped her fingers, pulling my attention. “Look. I don’t care if you want to end your career or not. I don’t want to end mine. So for the next couple weeks, can we just…have a truce? Or maybe you can pretend to pay some attention.”

“Couple weeks?” I asked, my brows pinching in a frown.

“Six,” She replied, resignation filled in her eyes. “That’s supposed to be the test period—or at least the period they think will be enough to do damage control. As far as I can tell, all your pain is only muscular. Nothing that makes me particularly worried, but you need to do your rehab, and rest. If you do that—If you try to work with me, I would be happy to put out a statement after six weeks like the team wants me to.”

“Why only Six weeks?”

She sighed. “It’s supposed to be my prohibition period. Plus, if you and the team go on to win this next test, the headlines will have something new to focus on. England in Finals.”

I raised a brow. “And if we lose?”

We weren’t going to, but I was too intrigued what’s her alternative.

“They’ll focus on your loss? I don’t really care. I’ll be gone long before I focus on that.”

That made me pause. “You’re quitting in six weeks?”

She shook her head once. “I’ll ask for a re-transfer back to the Women’s team. If I stay the test period, I doubt my father or the board will still have an issue with it. But they won’t budge right now.”

“Where is this coming from?” I asked. “This morning you were all up for bickering and tattling.”