Page 40 of Blindsided By You

I take a deep breath and grab my phone. It takes me three attempts to put together a text. I’m not good with the written word anyway, and this is such new territory. I eventually settle on something I hope is friendly but reassuring. I want her to be very clear: there are zero regrets on my part.

Me:Hey there sorry I overslept. Missed having breakfast with you. Bus is leaving soon. Where are you?

Jenna:Right here

Me:Here?

Jenna:On the bus

I look up, and she’s framed in a window, her mouth tipping up in a smile. It’s all the answer I need to know things are OK between us. Her brown eyes sparkle with invitation, although the faint crescents of purple beneath them betray her lack of sleep. Neither of us probably got more than four hours. She tosses me a flirty wink and I’m spurred into action.

Abandoning Nathan, I knock back the last of my coffee, toss the cup in a bin, snatch up my bag and plunge up the steps of the bus. The driver, probably the only one who did have a good night’s sleep, offers a way too cheerful good morning. I automatically return it without looking at him, while my eyes find Jenna—and my heart sinks as my stomach clenches in outright terror.

In the seat next to her, Coach Robbie has his nose buried in the Sunday paper. What does he know—an overprotective father sensing there’s something on the radar but not sure of the shape ofit? It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s onto us. Sharpe by name and sharp by nature.

But if he thinks something’s going on, he’s still hazy on the details, because otherwise, I’d be dead. Or at least kicked off the team bus and walking back to Cluanie. Razor was adamant—player plus Jenna equals off the side.

When I pause in the aisle, calculating my next move, and he ignores me in favour of his reading, I relax. Perhaps he simply wants to spend a bit of time with his daughter on the return trip.

Either way, all my hopes of basking in Jenna’s company for a few precious hours are dashed by the sight of his frowning face. I take the next best seat just behind her, slouching into the gaudy plush upholstery, the pattern so bright it hurts my weary eyes. Immediately a text pings on my phone.

Jenna:If you’d got here earlier…

I fire one back at her.

Me:No one’s more sorry about that than me.

There’s an immediate answering chirp.

Jenna:I’m not sorry about anything I did in the last 24 hours. You?

I swallow so hard, surely she must hear it—and the exhale of relief that gushes from me. Her words make me rash. I take a chance, the first step in nudging her beyond our deal made in the darkness of the early hours.

Me:Only that I didn’t find you earlier. And I don’t mean just today.

I suck in another breath, holding it, my gut twisting in guarded anticipation.

As Jenna’s phone chirps again, Robbie lowers the paper and fixes her with a stare. Although I can’t see his raised brows, I sense them. With lowered head, I still feel his inquiring gaze swivel towards me, peering over the high seat back. I keep my eyes fixed on my phone and then breathe out silent relief as he turns back to her.

“Sorry.” She offers the apology in a smooth consoling tone, evidence of years wrangling her father. “It’s Rachel. Text-bombing both of us at the same time.”

The lie slips so easily off her tongue. But then, that’s Jenna’s job. Not actually lying, I suppose, but definitely smoke and mirrors. Right now, this statementisa lie, told on my behalf to save me from her father’s scrutiny.

I switch my phone to silent, praying Jenna has the sense to do the same. I glimpse her flying fingers and grin as the text comes in.

Jenna:Bugger. He’s got us cornered. Time for stealth mode.

Me:Already done.

The rest of the guys amble onto the bus, all looking worse for wear, after drowning the Scottish side’s loss with overconsumption of alcohol. Most commandeer entire double seats for themselves, sprawling across both spaces, eyes closed, dark glasses on.

I see Jenna tuck in her ear buds, and rest her head against the window as the bus pulls away from the hotel, rumbling along Edinburgh’s cobbled inner city streets.

Beyond the outer suburbs, we cross the Forth bridge with the navy waters of the Firth below tranquil today, and then into countryside so green it hurts my bleary eyes. I pull on my sunglasses and settle in to read the sports news online.

For almost an hour, there’s radio silence from Jenna. She’s got earbuds in, so I tuck my phone in my jacket and leave herwith her music. I’m hoping she manages to shake off her father when we stop. Maybe I can catch a moment to talk to her. I’m missing her presence already, so when my phone vibrates against my chest, I’m quick to pull it out. My jubilation is short-lived. This time it is a text from my sister and she’s not happy with me. Not an uncommon situation.

Rachel:Fuck it Geordie!!!! I told you no, but you had to do it anyway.

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