Page 119 of Reckless Hearts

“I don’t know. He’s going to look at it closely tomorrow. But the garage I took it to had no hire cars available, so I’m stuck using crappy public transport. I’m so looking forward to experiencing the unique thrill of watching three buses of the same route show up at once after waiting for an hour.”

“You can borrow my rental car,” Marcus offers.

“What are you going to do without a rental car?”

“I’ll get another.”

I give him a side-eye. “Your rental car is a Maserati. You don’t think people will ask questions about why I’m suddenly driving a Maserati?”

“It’s always good to be unpredictable, keep people guessing.”

“Good when you’re a Hollywood star. Not so much when you’re a university professor.”

“Hey, maybe they’ll just think you’ve discovered a new species of money-growing tree,” he says.

I huff out a laugh.

“Or maybe they’ll just think you’ve discovered how to turn endangered species conservation into cold hard cash.”

“Right, because that’s totally believable. ‘Oh, this Maserati? I just sold the GPS coordinates of a fairy tern nest to the highest bidder. Don’t tell the Department of Conservation.’”

It’s his turn to laugh. He tightens his arm around me, and I find myself relaxing for the first time since my car decided to throw its tantrum.

I’m so grateful I’ve got Marcus here to comfort me, to help me solve my problems, to make me laugh after a shitty day.

I resistMarcus’s offer and take the bus the next morning to the university. And it’s not that bad if you enjoy playingGuess that Sticky Substancewith your shoes or performing the advanced yoga of trying to exit past the crowd attempting to board before you’ve even stood up.

But that evening, I have to get to South Auckland for soccer practice. So I grudgingly concede to using Marcus’s car. I grip the steering wheel tightly, convinced that at any moment, the car will realize I’m an impostor and activate some sort of luxury vehicle defense system designed to eject unworthy drivers.

Jamie and Declan are in the parking lot when I arrive.

I flush self-consciously as I get out of the car.

Declan gives a low whistle. “Nice car.”

“Ah…thanks. I’m borrowing it off a friend because my car decided to die yesterday.”

“That’s a pretty good friend if they’re prepared to lend you their Maserati,” Jamie comments.

I briefly consider telling them I won it in a game of chess against a bored billionaire, but I don’t really have a talent for lying.

Instead, I feel my face grow even hotter. “Ah…yeah.”

I head onto the field, hoping the sharp wind will cool my face.

Luckily, training has already begun, and the guys are doing ball-skill drills.

Tim immediately heads over to Jamie, and he and Jamie do their usual thing of smiles and laughter and meaningful glances that makes everyone else feel like they’re intruding on a private moment.

“Oi, Jamie! Are you here to train, or are you here to flirt?” Scott yells.

“Can’t he do both?” Declan asks. “It’s a total myth that men can’t multitask.”

“You reckon he can dribble accurately with a goofy smile on his face?” Scott asks skeptically.

“I’m up for the challenge.” Jamie intercepts the ball from Scott’s feet and completes the drill around the cone, all while keeping the same smile as Scott rolls his eyes.

Then it’s time for a game of seven-a-side.