Page 97 of Fever Dream
“Now, Harrison, Casey,” Anna cuts in and I turn my attention her way. “Any truth to the rumours that wedding bells might be coming your way sometime soon?”
Harrison clears his throat as his hand tightens in my grip, while I can’t help but wonder where Anna is getting her information. Surely she doesn’t know about the beautifully simple gold band sitting on my nightstand back home that Harrison presented to me four weeks ago, down on one knee. Accompanied by a simple question to which I enthusiastically saidyes!
Only our closest friends and family know about that, and I know they are all a vault when it comes to us so this must be just mere speculation.
I chuckle and deflect. “I promise you’ll be the first person we call if we have any news, Anna,” I lie.
“I better be,” she winks as though we are great friends, and this is not barely the third time we have ever spoken. They let us go and Harrison and I continue the walk into the awards room.
“You think she knows? Or was that just fishing?” he murmurs in my ear.
“Definitely a fishing expedition,” I assure him, squeezing his hand again.
“We might have to move up the wedding date,” he teases, and I just grin back at him. This is the one thing we have yet to agree on. Harrison wants to put a ring on me as soon as he possibly can. I’m trying to remind him I’m only twenty-four, buthe doesn’t care about numbers and I’m slowly coming around to his way of thinking. Not that I’ve told him that yet.
Marriage was never part of my plan but the more time I spend with Harrison, the more I want to tear that life plan up to shreds. Marriage, kids? Yeah, if it’s with him then sign me up, baby.
Henrietta is already wild with ideas for our wedding. She wants to host it at Harrison’s family manor in the Cotswolds and truthfully, I couldn’t think of a more idyllic or perfect place. I mean, Henrietta is frighteningly intense but it’s clear how much she adores Harrison.
As for Mr and Mrs Thornfield, Cami and Archie to me now, they are as adorable and quintessentially English as I pictured. They’ve visited us twice here in Australia and we’ve been back to visit them three times now, the last time for Christmas with my folks and Luna in tow. I love seeing Harrison in his home environs where his accent always becomes that bit crisper.
Harrison and I find the Fever’s table, already filled with the eight other invitees and their dates. I shake James’s hand and hug his wife, Katie, as I take the seat beside James.
“Took you long enough,” Sonny eyerolls from beside Harrison.
“Lifestyles of the rich and the famous,” I shrug back as Harrison chuckles beside me.
“I feel like the Fever’s position in the room seems to be improving each year,” James comments as he looks around the room where we are, indeed, front and centre.
The Dragon’s table is right next to ours where Marco Robson is already seated. I catch his eye, and we share a quick smile and nod with each other. The bad blood between myself and the Dragons has mostly gone by now but there are still plenty of Elsternwood fans who have never let me forget the betrayal. But we’re four and four in our head-to-head against each other since I left and I think that’s reasonably fair.
Even still, I’m slightly devastated that the Dragons have made it into this coming weekend’s grand final against the Adelaide Firetails. I know who I’ll be going for this weekend as we watch on from our poolside hotel room in Fiji which Harrison hastily booked after our season abruptly ended last Saturday. Hopefully naked.
“They obviously need to keep Casey’s diva ego stroked,” Sonny chuffs, sending me a wink.
“That they do,” I agree. “It’s a full-time job, keeping my ego stroked. Just ask Harrison.”
“Bloody hell, Casey,” he mutters beside me as the boys in earshot laugh. I just grin and peck a kiss on his cheek.
“Lucky you love me so much,” I whisper in his ear.
“You mean lucky for you I caught Casey Calloway fever,” he returns.
“Luckier still there’s no known cure,” I grin. “But just so you know, I’m just as addicted to you, H,” I add, voice muffled in his ear as he shares a smile with me.
I remember watching Brownlow Medal counts back home as a kid, listening avidly as each vote was announced and watching the ladder leader change each round. What I didn’t know then was how bloody long these counts actually are as we all sit around the table as the night starts. Beer and wine flow freely but I am on self-imposed rations, sipping tiny sips from the two glasses I have permitted myself. Just in case I do actually win this thing and am required to give the speech I have half prepared in my pocket.
Harrison, ever reliable, limits himself to two glasses of wine in solidarity even though he doesn’t have to. But I knew he would because that’s just how my Harrison is, always thinking of me. Always putting me first.
He knows how nervous I am about tonight but he’s always there beside me, holding my hand or with his arm over myshoulder. There’s a camera trained on me the whole night, just as there are with the other front runners and that doesn’t add to the nerves at all. Not one bit.
It takes us all the way to round twenty-four, the final round for eligible votes before I poll the last three votes that takes me to the top of the leaderboard, and I am announced the winner of the Brownlow Medal. My teammates crowd around me as camera shutters go off and applause and victory music fill my ears. I can only focus on Harrison as he grabs my face and kisses me, hauling me back down to earth.
I somehow make my way up to the stage where I am presented with the Brownlow Medal from last year’s winner and ushered to the microphone. I gaze out at the packed room, all eyes on me but I have eyes for only one person, and I find him, the most beautiful person in the room who is not even attempting to hide the tears in his eyes.
I take a breath and look out at the crowd. “Wow. Thank you,” I begin, fingers clutching the cool metal of the medallion around my neck. “I’d love to say I didn’t expect this, but with the betting odds in my favour all year, I was starting to worry not winning would’ve been the real scandal. Still, the truth is… actually holding this feels completely different. I’m genuinely touched, and maybe just a little relieved.
“I want to say thank you to my family, my parents and sister Luna for supporting me and putting up with me over all the years. Thank you to my Fever teammates for the best year we’ve had. I’m lucky to be part of the best group of guys ever who bring out the best in each other every week. Thank you to Mick Brabham and our coaching team for believing in me and trusting me to do my job each week. Thank you to the trainers, the medicos, the admin, everyone behind the scenes who makes our awesome club tick.”
