Page 92 of Dream On, Liar

When I finally looked at Raina, I couldn’t help but tell her the thought lingering in my head. “Ma would’ve been so happy too.”

Her shoulders dropped as she nodded. A small tear falling down her cheek as she held Oliver’s hand tightly.

And for the first time in a long while, I sat there with a smile for the rest of the night.

17

Maeve

THERE WAS A LOW buzz as I stepped inside the pub, like the people talking and moving created an energy unmatched. Which didn’t help, considering I had regretted coming the moment I’d walked out the door.

Only Faroq had been the one to insist.

“You should show your face,” he’d said that afternoon as we sat down for Lunch, as though I had somehow forgotten how socialising worked. “Everyone’s going. We’ve won the first one. So, just pop in. Have a drink. Talk to the squad. You’ll have an easy transition to Hamilton if you stop hiding in treatment rooms. If you don’t I’ll have to not you down as non-team player in your review.”

I’d told him I wasn’t hiding.

He’d laughed.

So, naturally, I’d come. Not just because he’d all but threatened me to. Because I wanted to.

The place was packed as I searched for them. The place filled with the kind of warm, noisy chaos that made conversation feel like a contact sport. Music played somewhere behind the bar, glasses knocked together, and every few seconds another burst of laughter rose above the general hum.

I stood just inside the entrance for a moment, scanning the room.

Then Noah, one of the players shouted my name across the place, turning every head in my direction. “Maeve!”

Lifting his glass, he grinned. “You actually came!”

Closing the distance, I shrugged. “I was threatened.”

“Faroq,” He yelled, again. Searching for the senior physio. “You threatened our girl, here?”

I smiled despite myself and Faroq just shrugged. “Simply asking didn’t work, so I improvised.”

A few of the boys nodded. “Good call.”

“We’re just happy you decided to join us.”

“Even though you think we aren’t worth the time.”

“I never said you weren't worth my time.”

“Is that why you didn’t join us once during camp?”

I shrugged. “Two weeks straight had already been enough. Plus, there wasn’t anything to celebrate then.”

The table erupted, and I couldn't help laughing with them.

“You’re alright, Maeve.” Noah nodded.

“Right back at ya,” I laughed, shaking my head.

It was strange.

I’d spent so much of the last month worrying about how I fitted into this team, about whether they trusted me, whether they thought of me as the woman who'd written the paper or the physio who happened to be assigned to them.

Somewhere along the way, apparently, I’d become Maeve.