31
They ended up at a fish and chip shop tucked between a pub and a shuttered bookshop, its windows fogged with grease and warmth, the air thick with salt and vinegar.
It wasn’t grand or flashy, wasn’t planned, and somehow that made it perfect. Noah ordered for them both and they sat on a narrow bench outside, next to space heaters, paper-wrapped food balanced between them, Christmas lights strung overhead like a quiet apology from the universe.
For a while, they ate in companionable silence. Then Claire started talking.
She told him about her time in university first. About the long nights, caffeine-fueled exams, the pressure of being brilliant all the time because mediocrity felt like failure when your surname carried the weight of an “Ashford”.
She talked about how medicine had always been the one thing that made sense.
Then came Los Angeles. Four years working in American football: the brutal schedules, the money, the men who treated their bodies like disposable weapons, the strange loneliness of living in constant sunshine while feeling perpetually untethered.
And she talked about how she met Jason Markey, tight end for the Los Angeles Harriers.
She didn’t soften it. She told Noah everything.
How they fell in love, were to get married, how he was still a playboy despite it all.
How he cheated on her in Ibiza with some model and she was hounded by paparazzi everywhere she went.
The explanation he’d offered for cheating, trying to make it seem that it was her fault because she was so busy and he was travelling around the country.
She spoke plainly, voice steady, eyes fixed on the cobblestones beneath their feet.
Noah didn’t interrupt once. He just listened, hands still, absorbing every word like it mattered – like she mattered. Somewhere between the last chip and the quiet that followed, something in him settled irrevocably. He’d cared before. Now, it was deeper. Certain.
Claire exhaled, as if releasing something she’d carried too long, and told him how she’d finally left.
How she’d chosen rugby because of her internal medicine specialty and her resume of professional sports.
She explained how desperately she needed distance from Jace, from expectations, from a version of herself that had survived instead of lived.
And she essentially spun a globe, and her finger hit New Zealand.
She used her contacts to scout out openings in any sports team, and here she is.
Noah smiled at that.
“I–,” he started, “I am sorry to admit this now, but I already knew about your ex, and… your time in America.”
Claire was shocked. Claire was mad. She was shocked and mad.
“How did you know? I haven’t told anyone!”
“Google,” he said simply.
Now Claire was just embarrassed. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair. You let me talk for so long.”
Noah looked at Claire with conviction. “I like hearing you talk,” he confessed.
There was silence.
“Do the guys know?” Claire asked, referring to the rest of the Crusaders.
Noah laughed, “No.” He shook his head.
“They could have googled it too.”
“They didn’t. They don’t think about things like that. They’ve been hit in the head… a lot.” He was laughing, remembering their faces. “That whole group is denser than lead. Dumbest guys you’ll ever meet.” Claire chuckled with him. “They’re lovable, and they mean well, but not the brightest bunch.”
“Tell me. What about you then?” Claire asked, trying to change the subject away from her embarrassment.
“What about me?”
“What secrets are you hiding, Noah Wilson? I want to know everything.”
“No secrets,” he amused. But Claire stared at him, eagerly waiting.
“There’s not much to know,” he said with a smirk. “I grew up in New Zealand, in a small village on the South Island. Went to uni in Australia and was scouted for rugby right out of uni. My dad played rugby, my dad’s dad played rugby, my dad’s dad’s dad played rugby. I just – love it.”
He explained how Saturdays were sacred, muddy boots by the door, bruises worn like proof of belonging.
Rugby had been the one constant, the place where discipline and loyalty made sense, where effort was visible and earned.
He talked about community, about learning early that you showed up for people whether you felt like it or not.
Claire listened this time, really listened.
She watched the way his voice softened when he spoke about home, the quiet pride for his culture woven through his words.
And without warning, without drama, she realized she was falling for him – not for the rescuer, not for the captain, but for the man sitting beside her with salt on his fingers and history in his bones.
She remembers that kiss he forced on her in South Africa.
It was rushed and frenzied, almost desperate.
Claire’s phone buzzed, alerting her to a text:
MOM
Is your boyfriend - that you never told us about - staying a while?
Claire hesitated to answer. She knew she had some explaining to do.
“Do you want to walk with me?” Claire asked Noah.
He looked at her in earnest and smiled. “I would love nothing more.”
The night grew colder, but they didn’t notice. Just enjoying each other’s company and getting to know the person behind the job, blurring the lines in the pitch.
Claire stopped walking and faced Noah. “Listen, my mom just asked if you were staying with us at the house.” Noah had to keep a smile from taking up his whole face.
“Hmm.” He was thinking, but didn't answer the original question. “You know he won’t bother you anymore… If he thinks you’re taken.”
Claire exhales slowly. “Who? Jason? You think so?” It seemed that Noah was hatching a plan.
His mouth curved, half-serious now. “I do think so. We could fake it. Just while I’m in town. Holidays are prime territory for idiot ex-fiancés trying to get back together with their lost loves.”
“We will have to keep lying about being together,” Claire said.
“I know.”
Claire explained, “It will be a lot, so I understand if you are busy. There will be parties and events to attend. I can just tell them that you’re busy.”
Noah was trying to interject, but Claire kept talking. “Claire.”
“It’s fine. I know it’s stupid. I will just tell them you are staying with friends.”
“Claire.” He grabbed her shoulders and bent at his waist, so they were eye level.
Noah’s eyes were sparkling with joy. “It’s ok. I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it. I’m just staying with Luck for a couple days. I’ll just let him know I’m staying somewhere else.”
He was right. Claire knew that he wouldn’t suggest it unless he meant it.
“Yeah?” Claire asked. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”
“I’m sure.” Noah said, continuing to walk.
“Okay,” she said. “If we’re doing this, we need rules.”
He nodded immediately. “Okay. Ground rules. Agreed.”
She counted them off using her fingers. “First – keep it as close to the truth as possible. No elaborate lies we can’t remember.”
“Easy,” he said. “We like each other. Met through the team. No dramatic origin story.”
“Second,” she continued, “we always tell people we’re together. No, ‘it’s complicated.’ No loopholes.”
Noah’s gaze holds hers. “Public, consistent, boringly solid.”
“Exactly.”
“And third?” he asked.
Claire smiled, conspiratorial now. “Kelsey. He cannot tell the team.”
“Kelsey… yeah.” Noah laughs softly. “So, bribe the hooker. Dangerous precedent, but doable”
“He likes nice things,” Claire said. “And he’ll deserve something good and pretty once this is all over.”
He thought for a moment. “How about a spa weekend? Somewhere coastal. Quiet. He’ll like that.”
Claire raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re very committed, for a fake boyfriend.”
Noah looked down at her face. Eyes steady, voice low. “If we’re doing this, we do it properly.”
“We’d have to share a room…” Claire said to Noah.
He sarcastically rolled his eyes, “Oh no”.
He didn’t seem upset about sharing a room.
Something shifted between them, hatching this little white lie together. They are now twisted in this story, a shared secret wrapped in honesty. And somehow, that feels more dangerous than pretending ever should.
For the first time in a long while, Claire felt anchored. And Noah, walking her back to the car under the glow of Christmas lights, already knew one thing with unsettling clarity: loving her was going to be the easiest thing he’d ever do, but at this point it was inevitable.