Page 25 of Fever Dream
“Hey,” he says. “I got you one of those green smoothies I know you like.” It’s only then I notice the takeaway cups in his hands, a coffee for him and a green smoothie for me. Emotions clog up my throat as I take the cup from his outstretched hand. It’s only a small gesture but for some reason it means a lot. Probably because of the emotional night we shared.
“Thank you.”
I take a seat on the bed and Casey slumps down beside me, shoulders drooping. I don’t know what to do with my hands.
“So um, sorry about last night,” he finally says. “I sometimes get up in my head and it takes some time to bring me down off the ledge. I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
More emotions hit me, and I can’t work out which one I’m feeling the most. Other than the fact I don’t want or need an apology from him. Iwantto be there for him in moments like that.
I clear my throat, shards of glass making it hard to speak. “Well, last I checked we were best friends. And what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t let you cry on my shoulder while having naked cuddles?”
Casey is quiet for a beat before he lets out a soft laugh, the relief immediate in his energy. He knocks his shoulder against mine and I share a smile with him.
“I wasnotcrying, thank you very much,” is what he says.
I snigger. “Sure, Case. Sure.”
He sucks in his smile but he’s looking at me again, those brilliant, beautiful blue-green eyes full of the life that makes him Casey Calloway. But I can tell he doesn’t want me to make a deal of last night, so we just sip our drinks in silence until the alarm goes off, telling us it’s time to leave for the bus.
Casey waits for me as I pick up my suitcase and then we make our way down to the lobby, no words needed today.
***
Casey hovers at the airport. Almost like he doesn’t quite know how to separate himself from me. I get the feeling. I don’t feel ready to leave him either, not quite able to shake the feeling he mightneedme. Like he needed me last night.
But, dammit, this is my day off—myonlyday off other than Casey’s and my impromptu tour of Sydney since the day I arrived in Australia. I’ve given up all my other days to the cause of getting Casey ready for opening game, and even though we didn’t quite make it, I don’t have any regrets over it either. Working with Casey never feels likework.
Still, it’s becoming a little apparent that there may be some growing issues ofco-dependencygoing on here between me and my star client. And it’s probably for that reason I heft my suitcase into Ben McLean’s waiting car and turn to face Casey. He’s fidgeting on the footpath, hovering but trying to pretend he’s not.
“You going to be okay?” I ask him, touching the back of his hand to get his attention.
“Of course,” he replies. “When am I not okay?” I just send him a pointed eyebrow and he shrugs bashfully.
“No, you’re never dramatic are you, sweet.”
“Never,” he returns, mock indignation covering that pretty face. Right, yes, time to go. I’ve had way too much Casey Calloway the past twenty-four hours and I’m in urgent need of a detox.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Come for dawn Pilates?” he asks, head cocked prettily to the side.
“Course. I’ll see you then.”
“Seeya, Harrison,” he says gently, sighing as he turns and walks away, stabbing me right in the gut the way he always does.
I climb into Ben’s front passenger seat and we set sail for the busy Sydney traffic that everyone here constantly complains about. Me? No. I’ve lived in London since I turned eighteen so this is almost laughable.
“How did you find game day?” Ben asks conversationally.
“Good. Although the interchange bench is a lot busier than I was expecting,” I reply.
Ben chuckles. “Ah yes, probably should have warned you about that. We’re allowed a total of seventy-five interchanges throughout the game. And we tend to use themall.”
“Yes, I noticed. Slightly more than the five I’m used to.”
“Much harder game, Aussie rules,” he says with a grin and a wink.
“In some ways, yes, I’ll give you that.”
