‘Nice going, Captain Personable.’ I grab some more purple from the bag of some passing aunty, and I don’t hesitate to smear it all across Colt’s cheek, completely unaware of how close we’re suddenly standing to each other until my hand comes away from his clean-shaven jaw. ‘And for the record, happy Holi.’
A smile spreads across his face, as spattered with colour as it is. He spins the little water gun on his index finger. ‘Happy it definitely is.’
I roll my eyes. He’s so damn tacky. Except he uses my moment of ignorance as an opportunity to steal some colour, because I feel the sprinkling of powder on my forehead, and my gazesnaps right to him. With a laugh, he opens his hand, revealing a massive mound of red powder. ‘I’m not gonna throw it. That’d be cheating.’
‘You don’t need to be chivalrous.’ Or does he? There’s something sweet about it: the patient look on his face, laced with longing. ‘Looks like anything goes here.’ I gesture to the full-out colour war going on around us.
Colt, even so, flicks his gaze to the rest of the red in his hand. ‘May I?’
Oh, honey. You’re a couple. Yeah, of course he may. For the narrative, I remind myself when I nod yes.
His fingers brush my cheek, leaving behind a trail of coloured powder, and my eyes find his light-hearted smile. It takes some effort to remind myself that this is for everyone else’s benefit.
‘Happy Holi, May,’ he whispers, stormy eyes glimmering. His touch traces tracks of red down the side of my neck before dropping off. Goosebumps spread all over my body at just that much. No matter how many times I force my mind to put the brakes on, instinct just has to have its way. Maybe all signs are trying to tell me something, but I can’t afford to read them.
I turn my attention to something I can actually control instead.
‘You’re easy to distract.’
Palming Colt’s tiny water gun, I trigger it straight at his chest, the barrel pressed right against him, and he looks down in alarm, and then amusement, as the green spreads across the fabric of his beige hoodie.
‘That’sactuallycheating,’ he practically chokes out, clutching his heart all dramatically.
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Funny of you to say.’
‘Sure. But considering you’re the one distracting me, I think it’s fair.’
My pulse pounds double time when his eyes trace their way across my body reverently, even though I’m a hot mess covered with every colour of the rainbow. My wet T-shirt clings to my body, my running shorts the only water-resistant article I have been fortunate enough to wear.
‘Colt!’ shrieks little Rahul from a couple of paces away. I’m instantly thankful for the kid’s presence, ending my contemplation. ‘Come here! We’re going to get Aryan’s mom next!’
‘Aryan’s mom is next,’ Colt says to me, ever so seriously, like this is a mission of utmost importance. He slides his gun from my hand, his palm just brushing mine. ‘Don’t think we’re not coming back for you.’
He runs off with a clutch of at least eight kids, fitting for the man who, at least in my eyes, never bothered to grow up. Something about this is different, though. Endearing. I can’t ignore it for ever. The thoughts war in my head until he disappears in the crowd of dancing and yelling people covered in colours, and all that’s left for me to think about is the feeling of his fingers on my cheek.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Red Card
May
It’s a full house at Chester yet again, this time versus Austin, and it’s something we’ve got more and more used to seeing at our games. That and the massive cameras and broadcasting teams that are here to televise this game.
We’re also collecting new fans with every game, new Riders loyalists flooding in from across the state as ‘Lacrosse Power Couple’ goes viral. The bleachers are starting to fill to the tops, brimming like the carbonation threatening to spill over the side of a full glass of soda.
I snap on my goggles. Beside me, Jordan grabs her stick, taps it against mine with a grin. ‘Ride on, cowgirl. Let’s bring this one home.’
‘Let’s.’ I return her grin, but it’s wiped right off my face whenI see Colt heading my way. I can’t let him distract me now. Especially not after the moment we shared on the backyard field, and definitely not after the feelings that suddenly overwhelmed me at Holi.
‘May, I never got a chance to give you a proper thanks,’ are the first words out of his mouth. I’m not sure what the appropriate reply would be. I let him continue. ‘Those kids from Holi asked me to play a round, you know. They’re probably gonna whoop my ass, but I still want to thank you. For just getting me out on the field that other day. I guess I could say it felt like a first step.’
‘You don’t owe me,’ I tell him, pulling my roll of medical tape from my bag. I focus on picking at the torn end where it sticks to the rest of the roll. ‘What happened to you was terrible. I’m not leaving you out to dry after that.’
‘For the record, May …’ He sits down beside me on the bleachers. Jordan raises an eyebrow my way, but doesn’t say anything. That girl. We’re going to have a chat about this later over margaritas, I’m sure, but I mentally thank her for staying quiet. ‘I’m sorry it happened to you.’
I’ve had ups and downs in this sport. Twice I have suffered momentarily coming off my game. But I’ve never had to bench myself because I completely forgot how to play. I always bounced back. I had good people around me, a sounding board when I needed one, and other times, a cushion to fall back on.
I watch Colt, and something twists in my gut when I think about the fact that now he picks up a stick and doesn’t know what to do with it. This is the same kid who picked up a stick for the first time andimmediatelyknew what to do with it. As athletes under stress all the damn time, crashes in our mentalhealth are nothing if not common, and what Colt is facing is the worst kind of crash.
