“Are you still a Sporting fan?” I ask, as I stand beside her, elbows on the railing.
“I never stopped being one.”
She stares off into the distance, the cold breeze blowing back her hair.
“Are you not cold?”
She shakes her head. “It’s fucking hot in there. This is nice. It’s refreshing.”
December in Lisbon can get fairly cold, but at least it’s not raining like it’s been lately.
“So…” I tell her, splaying my palms, trying to figure things out. “I mean, where do we start?”
She laughs and turns to face me. “I don’t know. I guess there’s a lot of catching up to do. But I’ve been keeping my eye on you. In a non-stalkerish way, don’t worry.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you were my stalker.”
“Oh good,” she says, pressing her hands together. “Then I can tell you that I’ve watched nearly every game you’ve played over the last two years.”
My heart swells. I’m unable to keep the stupid grin off my face.
“You have?”
She nods, licking her lips briefly. “Yup.”
My eyes are still on her mouth and I have to force them up to meet her eyes.
How is it that everything feels like it did before? Like I could just reach out and bring her mouth to mine and we would twist and turn through space and find ourselves in my bedroom again.
Why do I feel so screwed?
A knowing smile curves her lips, like she can read my mind. I’m just not sure she likes what I’m thinking.
I swallow. “I guess that makes this pretty one-sided.”
“Well I don’t know everything about you,” she says. “Just the good things. That you’re the captain now. That you’re amazing at it. That you got through the worst year ever and came out stronger.” She wags her brows at me. “And maybe I’ve been watching your names in the gossip columns but, lo and behold, no one is ever talking about you.”
“I’m a pretty boring guy.”
“Except I know that’s not true. You’re not seeing anyone?”
“No.” I mean, I’ve had a few flings and one-night stands since I was with her, but they’re not worth mentioning, or even remembering. “You?”
“I was,” she says, looking away. “It didn’t work out.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?” She eyes me expectantly.
Okay. I guess we’re jumping right into where we left off, just like that.
I wiggle my jaw, taking a moment to weigh the scene. “I don’t even know where you’ve been these last two years.”
She watches me for a moment, her eyes searching mine, then fixing on my mouth. The tension between us is back to what it used to be, this crackling livewire, taut and ready to snap. The difference is, I know what happens when we give in.
“I’ve been around.”
“Did you go back to Houston?”
She shakes her head, a bitter look in her eyes. “No. You know, you should have stayed in touch.”
I was going to.
I had written her emails.
Emails I never sent.
I figured it was just best to let her go.
Let it be what it was, let what we had stay in the past.
“You could have too.”
She exhales sharply and turns back to the river, hands clasped. “Yeah. I could have. I should have. I missed you.”
It’s like a punch to my heart.
“I missed you too,” I manage to say, my words coming out quiet and raw. Far more raw than I’d like. I clear my throat. “How long are you here for? In Lisbon?”
“Probably another week. Maybe more, maybe less,” she says. “I’m here with Elena. We’re going down to her aunt’s house in Lago after this. Get some sunshine, you know? I’ve been in Finland and it’s fucking cold.”
“Is that where Elena is from?”
“Yeah. We’re roommates in Helsinki. She helped me get a job there. You know, under the table. I actually haven’t left Europe yet.”
I blink at her. “You’re still here?”
“Until they check my passport, yeah.” She looks only a little guilty, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I figure, might as well stay here until I can’t anymore. I’ve just always managed to find a way.”
“Yes, but overstaying your visa by a few days or even months is one thing, but two years? If they find out, you could get in serious trouble. You could get fined, deported. Banned.”
“You’re worried about little old me?” she asks, nudging my shoulder playfully.
“Should I be?”
“No,” she says. “Come on, I’ve made it work. And it’s not all bullshit jobs either. In Helsinki I’ve been coaching Elena’s nephew’s football team.”
Now that’s impressive. “Really?”
“Assistant coach. But hey. It’s a job and I’m good at. I’ve got some money saved now and I hope in the Spring I’ll be working again.”
“What about journalism? You know I was following your blog. You stopped posting after you left Lisbon.”
Her eyes take me in, her pupils growing large. “You checked up on me?”
“I tried to.”
“I’m hard to forget, aren’t I?” she says brightly.
“I never forgot you.”
My words hang in the space between us.
She frowns briefly, then looks away.
Shit. I said too much.
She straightens up and smiles sweetly. “I better go back and check on Elena. I feel bad about leaving her alone.”
I want to point out that she’s not alone and she looked like she was enjoying Fito’s company, but I get the message.
We walk back to the doors.
She pauses before we head down the stairs and into the noise and sweat of the club.
“Would you like to go for a drink?” she asks me. “I know you’re really busy with practice and the game…”
“I don’t have another game until next week,” I tell her quickly. “I would love to. Do you still have my number?”
“I do.”
“Then it’s a date.”
She gives me a teasing smile before she heads down the stairs. “Maybe.”
Maybe.
That’s good enough for me.
Thirteen
Ruby
“Nervous?” Elena asks me, sipping on a bottle of cider.
I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror in our hotel room,
