got the CEO, the Captain and the Vice-Captain here all at the same time, with no other ears listening, you guys need to do something about Campher. He’s on something. Drugs, booze, pills, steroids—I don’t know what, but it’s something.’
Jabu swore. ‘It hasn’t popped up in the drug tests.’
‘I’m telling you he’s on something,’ Will said. ‘I’m only here for another eight weeks. You still have the rest of the season with him. I’ll order a comprehensive drug screening, but I wanted to run it past you first.’
Three heads nodded their agreement and then turned back to the television screen.
‘Are you proud of what he’s done? Achieved?’
The interviewer was still talking about Will.
‘Sure. I always knew that Will was destined for great things. We both just took a detour, lost our way for a bit. Why are people still wanting to hear about it?’
‘You were good entertainment value. So, let’s talk about your sponsorship deals, Jo.’
Matt jabbed his finger upwards. ‘You see—he agrees with me! Now you’re just old and boring, Scott.’
Will stood up and swatted Matt across the head. ‘Funny—you didn’t say that when I face-planted you this afternoon. I need to do some paperwork before I leave, so I’m going to head off.’
He hadn’t even made eye contact with her, Lu thought as she watched his departing back. Yep, he was good at concealing his emotions—but so was she, and she knew what to look for.
* * *
Will had instinctively headed for the far corner of the gym, avoided the fancy equipment and yanked a pair of gloves from the shelf on the far wall. Jamming them between his knees, he pulled off his T-shirt, divested himself of his trainers and socks and left the pile of clothes on the floor next to an exercise mat. Pulling the gloves on, he proceeded to punch and kick the stuffing out of the dangling bag.
Kelby had made him do this years ago. Every time he’d felt out of control and frustrated he’d found a bag and pummelled it. At one time he’d been spending so much time with the punch bag that he signed up for Thai kick-boxing and learnt to do it properly.
He only ever did this now when he was feeling particularly stressed or when...punch, kick, punch...he felt out of control.
What was it about watching Jo this evening that had pushed every button he had? She was a prominent personality but he’d learnt how to hear about her, see her on the screen, read about her, with a detachment that came from a decade apart. Why now?
It had nothing to do with Jo, he realised, and everything to do with the life he’d led when he was with her—the person he’d been. Fun, crazy, spontaneous...out of control.
Being with Lu, spending time with her, reminded him of that person he’d once been. Oh, there was no alcohol or drugs involved this time, no dancing on bars and wrecking cars, but like during the best times he’d had back then they did have fun. They laughed. They talked.
They didn’t screw like bunnies.
And they were rapidly becoming friends—proper friends. Instead of just finding her to be a fun person to hang with he was finding that he wanted to tell her things, open up. And that scared him to death. Sex would have been so much easier. This? Not so much.
Being with Lu made him feel like the best version of who he’d been as a young man. Fun. Spontaneous. Curious.
Alive.
He’d been all of that and more. He’d been touted as the most promising young player in a generation—a team man, an amazing talent. Then he’d met Jo and had—oh, so willingly—fallen into the wild life she’d embraced. They’d married on a whim in Bali, and their life together had been fuelled by booze and dope and causing as much chaos as they could. They’d been untouchable, arrogant and superior. He’d started to work less and believe his own press more, had become enamoured of the adulation and adoration of fans and groupies. For a long time he’d thought he was a special person with a talent for rugby. It had taken Kelby to make him realise that he was just an ordinary guy with a special talent for the game.
As for their marriage...he’d been bored with her within three months and hadn’t been able to understand why. Sure, she was smoking hot—but she was also bright. Something he’d frequently forgotten. She could be hysterically funny, had superior mattress skills and a personality as big as the sun. There had been no reason to get bored with her. She was everything he’d ever thought he’d wanted but...
The spark had died. Quickly.
Could he be blamed for having doubts about his ability to stay in a relationship, to commit to a relationship? He’d been handed everything any guy anywhere in the world would sell his soul for and he hadn’t wanted it. But he’d kept it going—and he suspected she had too—because he’d earned big bragging points for being married to the sexiest woman in the world. And he’d liked the attention.
He hadn’t had the balls to break it off...until she did. Apparently there really wasn’t any good excuse for having an Argentinean woman in your room at three in the morning when you were married.
Will snapped a full round-house kick at the punching bag and followed the kick with an upper-cut when the bag came roaring back towards him. He’d been a yellow-bellied coward and after the divorce, instead of putting up his hand and saying sorry, he had bounced from affair to affair, party to party, bottle to bottle, making more of an ass of himself every month, losing a little more respect for himself every day.
If it hadn’t been for Kelby...
Will glanced at his watch. He’d been at it for a half-hour and he hadn’t even noticed. Sweat snaked down his bare spine into the back of his shorts and his hair was matted to his head. Using the back of his wrist, he pushed the hair back from his face and hauled air into his lungs. The adrenalin and anger were gone and he realised that he was utterly exhausted, his muscles beyond fatigued. Between the run this morning, the full body contact practice this afternoon and beating the crap out of this bag, he was skating on the edge of physical exhaustion.
Will grabbed the sides of the bag and rested his sticky forehead on the thick plastic. Well, he should sleep well tonight—that was if he didn’t start thinking about his crappy past. And Lu. And how much longer he could keep his hands off her...
Will turned on hearing the gentle slap of Lu’s sandals as she crossed the gym.
‘How long have you been here?’ he demanded, pulling off one glove with his teeth, then ridding himself of the other.
Lu tossed him a bottle of water which he caught with his free hand. ‘A while. Want to talk about it?’
Will cracked the lid and took a long sip before sinking to sit on an exercise mat. He held Lu’s sympathetic eyes as water slid down his throat.
‘Nothing to talk about,’ he said when he’d lowered the bottle.
Lu tipped her head and shook her head. ‘The past loses its power when it’s talked about. Secrets too.’
‘What would you know about secrets and the power they hold over people, Lu?’
Lu’s
