Chapter Twenty-Two

The burden of fame

BRENDON

 

“You goof.” Rob thumps my shoulder.

“What?”

“That look.” He circles my face in the air with his finger. “The one after last year’s game against the All Blacks. You are buzzing with joy.”

The happiness is headier than the day I scored two tries to help tie the Bledisloe Cup. The last three days have been the happiest of my life. Fireside chats, cuddles, and snuggles while we shared bits of our lives. There were the kisses—loads of them and the sex? Saaransh reframed the experiences of a lifetime. When he screamed Blue, stuttering, and moaning, my whole body resonated in ecstasy. Later, every night as Saaransh snuggled in my arms, our legs entwined, chests moving in tandem, and heartbeats synchronized, peace settled in my heart, cozy in my Saaransh-shaped weighted blanket.

“You’re worse than a horny teenager. You had a ripper of time with Saaransh. Didn’t you?” Rob’s lips curl.

“Yeah, so? Keep your eyes on the road.” We are on our way for my final medical review. If everything is all right, the doctor will remove the splint, setting both my hands free for my man.

“No, so. Spill, bruv.”

“It’s not about sex, Rob.” I admit to what’s been bubbling in my heart. The whiffs of Saaransh’s presence soaking into my being, hooking me to him. His cute humming when he cooks. How Saaransh is the biggest blanket thief and hogs the bed at night. Watching him with my family fills my heart with possibilities. The loud, friendly banter between Saaransh and my brothers got me gooey. Images of him using the sign language with Damian ignited a warm glow in my chest. I don’t need someone to pluck a star from the sky, but Saaransh’s kind gesture has set my heart aflutter.

“The pages of my life’s playbook were scattered. Jumbled in my efforts to strap them together. Saaransh comes along and puts them into one compact game plan.”

“Ooh, boy. You’re in too deep, Bree.” Rob smirks. He shakes his head. “This is faster than Scott and Mike.”

“Nah, Shy is different. With Scott and Mike, the relationship centered around them. Their needs. Their wants. A means to complete their desires.”

“Hmm, but Shy comes from a different culture. His society is not kind to his sexuality. Are you ready to hide for him?”

Shh, Rob has rubbed the only thorn throbbing inside my head. Saaransh and I need to sit down and address it, but I am a selfish bugger, not ready to cause a storm in the snow globe we share at the moment. “Pipe down, mate. I am not a wally.” I pause before opening the door to get out of the ute and raise my splint. “Let us focus on this first.”

Rob takes the hint and doesn’t bother me with any more questions. The examination goes well, the X-ray is clear, and hand movements are painless. The doctor takes the splint off and asks me to keep my workout easy for another month. He recommends physiotherapy for the next six weeks and no active matches or gym. When I return to the reception, Rob is pacing the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“Bree, this is horrible. Did you see this?” Rob holds his phone and plays a video.

“Effing hell.” I rub my face in horror. “Call Steve.”

“Already did. Your agent is speaking to his network to find out where the videos came from.”

“What about Matt? Can’t we get the videos removed?”

“Matt is working on getting these pulled down. But they are all over the internet. A sleazy video of a world champion and the net will go bonkers.” Rob shows me a million hits in the last hour. The sixty thousand followers on my social media handles have thrust Saaransh under the lens—the price of our fame. Rob’s words increase the dread wrenching my gut.

“Shit. Shy.” We need to go home now.