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“S
o you went to the game last night?” Kingston asked.
“Yep, we go every time we play here or in Brissy.” Adelaide looked up at him as they walked hand in hand through the narrow walkways of the night markets, dodging people carrying trays of food, pushing prams, and chasing after wayward children. Each food outlet had been set up in a recycled shipping container, slotted together in a simple grid system surrounding a large lawn and forecourt area with a stage at one end and chairs and tables dotted throughout. Large shade sails lined with twinkling fairy lights covered most of the space and protected the crowds of people from the weather. That night was so much more typical for Queensland winters than their previous date. The air held a certain crispness, the skies clear of even a single cloud.
The river bordered one side of the markets, a cold breeze blowing in from over the ocean. Balcony-style eating areas were set out along its length, overlooking the dark waters. The ferry and water taxis, as well as pleasure craft sailed the river, traversing between the towers of Surfers Paradise and Broadbeach to the south and the Broadwater and business and shopping district to the north.
Kingston juggled the tray of food and drinks in one hand while she led him away from the crowds and over to an empty table along the railing. It was the perfect place to have a more intimate dinner away from the crowded central space. The band, a grungy surfer-style rap, reminded her a bit of her mum’s favourite, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They’d even performed a few of their songs. While they were great and had the crowd dancing and singing with them, Adelaide wanted to steal away with Kingston and get back to a quiet conversation with the man that had enamoured her so much.
“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of the footy,” Kingston remarked. With a cheeky smirk and a twinkle in his eye, he added, “I’m an East Sydney fan myself.”
He slid the tray onto the table, and Adelaide playfully glared at him. She rubbed her hands together, as if wiping them clean. “That’s it, we’re done for. I can’t look past an infraction like that. Why? Of all teams, why that one?” Adelaide added a roll of her eyes and muttered, “Typical, I find a nice guy and he turns out to be all wrong. He held so much hope.”
Kingston laughed, a rich baritone filling the space between them, and slid his cool hand into hers. “Give me a good reason to change teams and I might consider it.”
Adelaide’s mouth popped open in mock horror, and she gasped, her free hand going to her chest. “No, you can’t do that. You’re supposed to be loyal to the end.”
Kingston forked a green bean into his mouth and, after swallowing it, said, “Eh, I do have a favourite player, but you seem to be a rabid fan.” He paused, furrowed his brows, and narrowed his eyes playfully. “Who should my favourite player be? I feel like I should listen to you.”
Adelaide barked out a laugh, trying not to choke on the food she’d been chewing. He made her smile, her insides doing a happy dance when they bantered playfully. She pointed her chopsticks at him and said, “Well played.” Swallowing, she added, “Honestly, I don’t know much about the other teams, but East Sydney’s new full back, Bryce Flaharty, is a friend of my brother’s BFF. He’s good, so… yeah...” The heat rose in her cheeks, and she looked away, pushing the noodles around her bowl. It felt like she’d revealed too much, that she was opening herself up to sharing the secret she’d never wanted to see the light of day. It had been a foolish, impossible, teenage dream that she’d let continue for far too long. It was time she got over Liam. But it was easier said than done. Liam held a special place in her heart. He’d rescued her brother, and he’d been a permanent fixture in her life and house for close to a decade. It just wasn’t possible to do more than refocus her energy on being friends with him.
Could she fall out of love with him? Adelaide was going to damn well try, because although her stupid feelings by her stupid heart were all mixed up, she wanted this thing with Kingston to go further. She wanted to get to know him and give him the love and attention he deserved. He was restrained, quiet and shy, but when he shook free of it, he morphed into this hot-as-hell sex god. Mixed with his gentle caring nature and the way he seemed to focus in on exactly what she wanted and deliver it, she was itching to get him naked. It was more than chemistry though. She genuinely liked him. They had fun together. He was mature and knew himself. It was a refreshing change from the self-centred jerks she’d hooked up with in the past.
He was boyfriend material, and Adelaide hadn’t realized how much she wanted that until she’d finally let herself look past Liam. She hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly though. Kingston had been an unexpected surprise. Meeting him had thrown her into a tailspin. Two weeks ago, she was certain she was doomed to be on the wrong end of a one-sided love affair forever. A week ago, she’d met an incredible man who lit her up and whose attention set her on fire.
But last night’s game had reminded Adelaide of how much she loved Liam, and she was still struggling with how to get past that fact.
“Is he the same boy who made friends with your brother?” Kingston asked quietly, squeezing her hand. She nodded and bit her lip, the reminder of that memory all too potent given the inner monologue playing on a loop. “In that case, I can see why he has your undying support.”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy.” Adelaide cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump there, and giving herself a moment to gain some composure. Her emotions were like an overfull suitcase. She had to sit on that bastard and beat it into submission, shoving everything back inside before using all her strength and Twister-like abilities to zip that fucker up. Once she’d kicked it into the dark recesses, she added with what she hoped was a playful smirk, “S’pose your favourite player is just great at footy.”
“Until you said he was good, I had no idea. I’ve never watched him play. It’s more because of what he does off-field that I like him.” Kingston eyed her, his smirk self-deprecating. “Bryce is active in high schools talking about cyber-bullying. We show a lot of the videos he made with the child e-safety organization he’s partnered with. He seems like a good guy.”
Adelaide agreed. How couldn’t she? Doing that kind of volunteer work, using his fame for something important, was admirable. It was just like Kingston to respect that more than playing ability.
They spoke while they ate, Kingston asking her whether she watched any other sport. Adelaide struggled to keep a straight face, but she must have managed a blank expression just fine when she answered, “There’s sport other than footy?” and Kingston snorted out a laugh.
With their bowls nearly empty, Adelaide motioned to Kingston’s remaining small serving. “Saving room for dessert?” She was stuffed full, but his vegetable and lentil salad with a side of sizzling beef was half the size of her noodles and he still had some left.
“No, I don’t really eat anything sweet. It’s hard to keep my blood sugar in check when I do.”
She tilted her head. His meal the week before had been similar—appallingly healthy—but it made sense if he had to watch out for his health. “You’re diabetic?” she asked.
“Yes, type two.” He pulled a small container out of his pocket and rattled the tablets inside. “I take medication to control it rather than having to inject insulin. I still test my blood sugar daily, but as long as I watch my diet and get plenty of exercise, it stays within a healthy range.”
Adelaide admired him even more. That kind of self-discipline was incredible. “When were you diagnosed?” He shifted in his seat and stacked the now empty bowls, pushing them to the side. “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m trying to figure out where to start.” He ran his fingers down his stubble, pausing at his chin. He sighed and lifted his lips in a smile that looked forced, the strained lines around his eyes obvious in the dim lighting. “I was always overweight, the big kid in school, and the even bigger teenager. Uni wasn’t a great place for me either. I tended to stress eat, and I wanted to do Mum and Dad proud. Anything less than straight As and they would have been worried I was failing.” He rolled his eyes, but Adelaide got it. She knew he was close with his parents, and from what he’d told her on their late-night conversations since their first date, he was the first of his family to attend university.
“My parents are old school, so my topping the class was important to them. I suppose they ingrained it into me. They never expected to have kids. The doctors told them they couldn’t. But then they fell pregnant with me, and I became their entire focus. Dad put off retiring to support me while I studied because they didn’t want me juggling a part-time job. But that put a lot of pressure on me to succeed too.” He winced and lowered his gaze. “It sounds like I’m complaining, but I’m not. I’m so lucky compared to so many other people. I have parents who love me, a university degree, and a steady job that I love that pays the bills. I’ll never be rich, but I don’t need to be.” He shrugged. “The perk of having the summer off makes up for the long hours during the year.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re complaining. Every one of us has a different experience in life and with our parents. Yours put pressure on you, probably before you were ready for it.” When Kingston was her age, he would have already graduated and be a couple of years into teaching. Adelaide still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. Given the sacrifices his father had made—just like her mother’s sacrifices—she could see exactly why Kingston had taken on those expectations as stress. It made her lack of direction even more pronounced.
“You’re right, I wasn’t ready for it. I stress ate, and my mum was glad to oblige. She shows you she loves you by feeding you and she’s offended if you don’t finish it. By the time I graduated, I was obese and gradually got heavier until a couple of years ago. Then I started to get these weird symptoms and I felt lousy. I eventually went to my doctor, and she tested my blood sugar. Unsurprisingly, she was horrified at the result.” He sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
Adelaide reached for him, interlinking their fingers, gripping his hand in encouragement. This was hard on him to talk about. The crease in his forehead was deep, his brows drawn together and his lips turned down in a frown. His shoulders were slouched, like he bore the weight of the world on them and Adelaide wanted to ease it. To comfort him. She wanted to lean in and kiss him, crawl onto his lap and hold him close.
“Dad has type one diabetes that was out of control for a long time. It was a miracle he didn’t cark it years before he got it under control. It was why they had trouble conceiving—he was basically infertile and no one had picked it up because he refused to get help. He thought going to the doctors made him weak.” Kingston shook his head and huffed out a sad breath. “My doctor told me some home truths when I got tested. If I didn’t make some serious lifestyle changes, I was at high risk of more than just type one diabetes. Stroke, heart attack, and far too many other conditions that I didn’t want to think about. It was the kick in the pants I needed to change up my life. I saw a dietician and learned what I should and shouldn’t be eating and how to tell the difference, and I got a personal trainer too—Mike, the owner of the gym we went to. I sweated my butt off over that first year and dropped a third of my body weight.”
