20. Queenie
CHAPTER TWENTY
QUEENIE
RECOMMENDED LISTENING ‘NADIR’ BY TENDER
I did not expect Mischa to capitulate so quickly to Noah’s silliness. But the man has a way about him. It’s undeniable and…authentic. Holding onto the image of the other Noah, The Asshole who threatened and manipulated to get his way is not easy when Mischa laughs in delight at Noah’s quip about the song choice.
I absolutely don’t feel jealous when Mischa lays her head on Noah’s shoulder and smiles goofily at him. Having her approval is important. Crucial, even. Mischa trusts men even less than me since freshman year. She still won’t tell me why.
The one time I pushed her about it, she cried for two hours straight. So, I stopped asking.
“I’m going to get you two drinks, while you grab us seats. Any preferences?” Noah sweeps his gaze around the packed room.
“I’ll stick to juice. If it’s not spiked,” Mischa answers.
“I’ll take something brown. I have the late lunch shift tomorrow.”
Noah nods and lopes toward the bar. He’s stopped no less than three times on the way to the drinks station. He high-fives people and talks easily to them. He even talks to a Pennington Knights’ fielder, dipping his head close as if they’re discussing something vital.
“So, that scene in the lawn,” Mischa begins in an undertone. “It wasn’t staged?”
We find seats on an overstuffed couch. Two couples tongue each other hard next to us, almost dry humping.
“This whole relationship is staged, Meesh.” I push one of the couples in the back, make space for Noah. “What else can I say?”
My feet tap to the music. It’s now mellow alt rock instead of the head-pounding techno. I love it.
“Because to the casual bystander, it looked like you’re into the guy. Like…” She raises her hands and wiggles them. “Into the guy.”
“That’s good. It’s the mission.” And I absolutely one hundred percent believe that is all it is. Because that is all it is.
Mischa’s head bops to the music, even as she scans the room. “What if you really are into the guy? Have you considered the possibility?”
I roll my eyes, even as my pulse pounds heavily. Just for a quick second. I remember the softly-voiced ‘Come here’ he’d murmured right before he’d kissed me so hard, I blacked out.
“There’s no possibility of it, at all, Mischa,” I assure her. “Because even if I liked the guy for a few hours, that Queenie and Noah stopped existing the second we became internet fodder.”
She sighs, loud and clear. “I just—” she begins anxiously.
“Queenie!” Veronica Washington chirps nervously, pulling me up unceremoniously. “I’m so glad you came tonight. Love the outfit.” She bends down in her six-inch Perspex heels to airkiss me, smelling of Juicy Chemistry and vodka. Her dress is all slips and knots with her tits almost falling out of the neckline. And her hair’s piled precariously on top of her head.
She looks very…fuckable, I think, sourly.
“Veronica,” I say shortly, resisting the impulse to gag.
Mischa just folds her hands and looks coolly at her.
“You’re still not mad about the other night, are you?” She talks loudly in my ear. “Because I was just trying to help, you know.”
“We know what you were trying to do, Veronica. And it wasn’t help,” Mischa says before I can say something clever.
Veronica gives her a drunk smile. “Hey! The librarian is here tonight. School really must be off.”
Mischa sucks in a shocked breath, hurt sliding into her eyes.
“Watch what you say around her.” I ball my fists. “You are?—”
“Leaving,” Noah says quickly. Almost plowing through her to get to me. “She’s just leaving. Before the cease and desist order my lawyer sent her father’s lawyer turns into a restraining order. Isn’t that right, Veronica?” He smiles pleasantly, although his eyes are completely obsidian. And his lips are a thin line. And he puts a boyfriend-like hand around my waist. Making us a unit.
I’m messed in the head because I find it equal parts hot and offensive. Especially because he stares straight at Veronica and does not even remotely look like he wants to fuck her.
“Ye-yes, of course. I’m so sorry to intrude,” Veronica mumbles. She aims a vague smile at Mischa and me. “You two have a great time. So glad we talked. Bye, you guys.” The crowd swallows her and her Juicy perfume.
I wrinkle my nose. “If she sprays anymore of the Cherry perfume, she’ll be dunked into a martini.” But inside, where my romantic heart still beats underneath the inch-thick layer of mascara and cynicism, I feel warm. Cared for.
Her apology soothed so many hurts I didn’t know existed. Especially, because it was given willingly.
“Please.” Noah hands us the drinks and squeezes next to me on the couch. “No one’s going to drink Blondie. Credit us with more brains, please?”
Mischa laughs and clinks glasses with me. “I’ll drink to that.” She downs her juice in one go.
I raise a brow at Noah’s empty hand. “You didn’t get your beer.”
“I’d prefer to keep a clear head tonight,” he replies.
“Still taking it one day at a time, Dumaine?” Rohit Chachu asks, materializing in front of us. He’s in sweats too, and is even wearing a Triskelion Cricket Training ball cap. It’s very cute and sporty.
“Every damn day, sir,” Noah says deferentially. He tries to get up, but Chachu shakes his head.
Noah’s hand clenches against my thigh. I cover his tense hand with mine.
“You played an excellent game yesterday.” Rohit tips his head. “You even managed to get Sandoval to dive for a catch.”
“Just doing what a good captain would do, sir.”
“I want to see more of that,” Chachu tells him. Then he beckons me up.
Mischa and I spring up to hug him tight. He pats us both briefly and then regards us somberly. “You will behave, won’t you? No more incidents.”
“No incidents,” I agree.
Mischa draws a circle around us. “This is an incident-free zone, Chachu.”
Noah laughs. And then clams up when Rohit looks up at him. “Would you like something to drink, sir?”
“No, no. I’m about to make a hasty exit. This music is—” Rohit shudders. “Inexplicable to me.”
“Sir.” Noah inclines his head.
“Did you really send the Washington girl a cease and desist?” Chachu asks, curiously.
Noah nods. “Of course, sir. The video is a clear case of defamation, and the De Rossis take that kind of thing seriously. I also sent Veronica Washington a personal letter along with the cease and desist. She cannot say or do anything to Queenie which can be considered defamatory by the courts.”
I turn surprised eyes to him. “You did that? You didn’t have to do that.”
Now I know why Veronica was pleasant to me just now. Why did he not tell me what he’d done? I can fight my own battles. He didn’t have to remove the threat of Veronica. That’s excessive…isn’t it?
Noah nods again and shrugs. “It’s the least I could do. She won’t bother us anymore.”
“Us?” Chachu bites off. “So, you’re still dating Queenie, then?”
Noah immediately ducks his head, a little contritely.
I feel bad for him. It must not be easy having the coach who held your fate in his hands be antagonistic to you for who you’re dating.
So, I slide my hand around Noah’s taut waist and scooch us an inch closer. I lay my head on his shoulder and give my uncle, what I hope is, a sappy smile. “Best. Boyfriend. Ever, Chachu.” I kiss his chest and hear the rapid thud-thud of his heart.
Good, he’s affected. It will show on his face, his reflexes. It will make this charade seem real.
“Now, unless you want to groove to Taylor Swift with me, Chachu, please—” I make a parting motion with my hands. “It’s my day off and we’re celebrating Noah’s match win.”
I even reach up and kiss my fake boyfriend’s cheek, keeping one eye on Chachu, who’s turning an interesting shade of purple.
Noah jerks me off him and smiles tight-lipped smile at his coach.
I enjoy watching him squirm too. It’s payback for the ways he constantly unsettles me.
“I’ll be seeing you at practice tomorrow, Noah,” Chachu says in a clipped tone. He nods at Mischa. Who hands her glass to me but talks to Chachu. “Can you give me a lift to the library, Chachu? I need to get some extra reading done.” She airkisses me and whispers, “Behave yourself.” And then floats off with my uncle.
I watch them go with a sense of detachment. Because I know I should want to go but I’m so warm and squishy next to my fake boyfriend.
“We can leave in ten too,” Noah says a moment later. “I just needed to make an appearance here for the players.”
“Oh.”
He gives me an enigmatic look. “Thanks, for protecting me from your Chachu. He’s a scary man.”
“But you didn’t have to protect me from Veronica, Noah. I can take care of myself.”
“Didn’t you hear your BFF, Hellcat?” He grins cheekily. “It’s my job to take care of you.”
I badly want to roll my eyes, but it’s a juvenile gesture and I’m an adult now.
A Challengers player crashes onto the seat next to Noah. So, he almost lands on me. Sorry, he mouths and tries to elbow the guy and get us some space. “Maybe you could just sit on my lap?”
I shrug. It is a party, after all.
So, I perch half on Noah’s lap as I finish my drink off. It tastes perfect. Rum and Coke mixed with a twist of lime, exactly the way I like it. He remembered my drink preference from the other night. That feels perfect too. As does his hard thigh over my wiggling knees.
Then, I ask him, “What did Chachu mean when he said, ‘Still taking it one day at a time’?”
He does a double take from where he’s high-fiving yet another team player. Who also includes me in the high-five. My hand stings from the force of the slap but I keep my wince in.
“You heard that?”
I shrug. “I’m observant, Aussie Boy.”
He looks around us and then his ruggedly handsome jaw hardens. Not in an angry way, more like he’s determined. He lowers his voice, so I have to lean up to hear him, “Your uncle’s aware I was in an accident last year and broke some bones. I got addicted to pills while I was in the hospital because the morphine wouldn’t cut it.”
“What did you break?” I ask thinly.
“My femur.” Noah indicates his thigh. “And my collarbone.” He shrugs. “It was a bad three-car pileup. A friend didn’t survive.”
“Oh…” I don’t know how else to respond. I’m just aware of how close we are. Legs and arms and breaths tangled in a sea of people, while he tells me his secrets.
“The Cricket Board of Australia did not know I was in bad shape till the day of my debut. They did a spot test, and my blood showed traces of oxycodone… and about a quart of vodka.”
I put a hand on his arm. I’m shocked beyond words. Both at the grim words and his empty tone. “I’m –”
“Don’t,” Noah barks out. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I was stupid and reckless. Took the idiot’s way out. This was all my fault. I was given a one-year ban by the Board, and my father sent me to a monastery-like rehab facility. I came straight to America once I got out. No one here knows why I don’t play international cricket.”
He casts another look around the room. So still, as if bracing against the backlash already. “The Board’s not going to call me up again unless I prove to them; I’m worth it.”
So many pieces fall into place. I’m very shaken by the picture of Noah Calvin Dumaine that emerges. It’s nothing like I imagined it would be.
Because underneath his autocratic manner and his rich boy exterior, Noah’s just like me. On his last chance of making something of himself. On his own terms.
“You asked me why I was so desperate to be here. Why I coerced you into being my fake girlfriend. Why I can’t quit camp.” He turns toward me.
I suck in a breath at the blank look on his face. It hides a volcano of emotions.
“This is why,” he says grimly. “If I don’t make it in this camp, my career as a cricketer is finished.”