Page 7 of The Wing
“Normal?” Daisy asks with a laugh. “He’s totally normal, if not a recluse that hates sunlight. He follows rugby and knows who you are, but I promise you he’ll leave you alone. You can use his spare room and relax while he’s working.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and tap my fingers on my arm. “He doesn’t mind? I don’t want to get in the way of his work.” Am I considering this? Going to a place I’ve never been before to relax in someone else’s home? Will I even be able to relax in his home when I don’t know him?
“He won’t mind. Promise.”
I nod slightly and glance around the room at my team going through different exercises and standing in small groups chatting. Spending time in Wanaka can’t hurt whatever’s happening.
“Okay. I’ll try Wanaka for the week.”
CHAPTER THREE
Liam
“It’ll be fine she said, you need someone to talk to she said, I already invited him before talking to you she said,” I mutter to myself as I park in the airport car park to wait for Hemi Carter, the right-wing for our national rugby team who also happens to be openly gay and my rugby crush.
“Fucking Daisy and her plans. So what if I barely leave the house when I’m drafting? Who needs sunlight?” I get out of the car and enter the airport, heading to the entrance where new arrivals appear. I only arrived home from Auckland last night after my meeting on Wednesday, but not before Daisy informed me of her master plan. It was a strange experience texting Hemi, especially when we were both in Auckland so we should have flown down together. Then I wouldn’t be back here so soon.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I see the caller, I mutter, “Speak of the devil,” and answer. “Not on a plane to South Africa yet?”
“Nah, not for a few days. How are you? Spiralling and hating me yet?”
“Only slightly,” I respond, keeping an eye on the gate to watch for Hemi. Daisy and I have been friends for ten years after we flatted together at university in a questionable six-person flat. My one claim to fame is being the person who got Daisy into rugby. And now she’s the assistant physiotherapist for the national team, all because I forced her to watch rugby games with me when I was sick of writing English essays. I mean, Joseph Conrad is great, a classic writer, butLord Jimis way too heavy for a Saturday night.
“You’ll be fine. You’ll finally meet Hemi. He’ll stay out of your way because he’s freaking out, and no one will get in the way of your drafting.”
Yeah, but focusing on writing the new fantasy series I sold to my publisher a few days ago when I have an honest-to-god rugby player staying in my home will be difficult. If not nonexistent. Goodbye word count, hello obsessing over the houseguest Daisy forced on me. I mean, who offers someone else’s house for a holiday without checking first? Granted, she knew I’d say yes because it’s Hemi, but still. Put me in a corner.
“He needs a place to get away and stop thinking. He’ll read and relax and next Sunday, you’ll be free again and can close the curtains so the glare from the sun doesn’t affect your computer,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice.
“Stop making fun. The glare’s annoying.”
“Yes, but Vitamin D is important, Liam,” she teases.
I make my voice low and dramatic. “Not if you’re a vampire.”
“Is that what the new series is about? Vampires?”
I roll my eyes fondly. “Not this time.”
“Then don’t pretend to be one. Maybe Hemi will drag you into some sun.”
“Thought he wasn’t going to bother me.” I scan the people stumbling into the arrival area, but I can’t see him. I’m not sure I’ll recognise him despite seeing his face plastered acrossbillboards and my TV screen for the past five years. People in real life can look quite different from photos. And then I realise she said next Sunday. “I thought he was staying a week?”
“He won’t bother you, but sometimes I think you need bothering. And since I can’t do it in Auckland, I’m sending you someone else. And it’s ten days. Not that long.”
I heave a sigh. Of course it’s more than a week. Closer to two really. Oh well. I’m planning on locking myself in my office and barely seeing him. “I know. I’m sure it will be fine.” I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise, but that doesn’t help the anxiety about the unknown. No one ever stays with me, and now a stranger is staying in my home? A famous one at that. I don’t know how to deal with that.
“Thanks, Liam. He’ll stay out of your way. He’s got some stuff to work through and needs a safe space away from rugby to do it.” Daisy’s voice is soft.
“I know. It’s a weird thought, is all. A weird situation.”
“It is. I’ll fly down and visit when I can.”
I don’t hear what she says because I’m too busy watching the new crowd of people coming through the doors. Specifically, the tall man with light brown skin with a cap pulled low on his brow, covering his chestnut hair cut into a short mullet I know from TV. The edges by his ears are shaved close enough to see scalp but longer on top and in the back. I tilt my head and scan him. He’s in shorts, which he’ll regret as soon as he steps outside. The South Island is a lot colder than the North Island, which he should remember from all the travelling he does for rugby, but maybe he’s nervous, too. Hemi’s hand clenches tightly around the suitcase handle, and he rolls his shoulders uncomfortably under his backpack straps. I squint to make out the logo on his cap and snort when I recognise the Vancouver Canucks symbol.
I don’t think wearing an ice hockey cap instead of a rugby one will throw people off. People are already staring at him.
“Liam? Can you hear me?” Daisy’s voice comes from the phone call I forgot I was on.
