Free Bold by Nicola Marsh Page A

gaze held him back: regret. And if there was one thing Zane knew, he was done living with regrets.
    “Is that a promise?” Zane shook Kurt’s hand, a brief, perfunctory shake, before sitting. “Because you haven’t stopped spinning bullshit since we got here.”
    “Occupational hazard.” Kurt had the grace to look sheepish. “If I’m not bellowing instructions on the field I’m mentoring the newbies off the field. Then there’s the countless interviews and appearances and—”
    “I better start feeling sorry for you some time soon.”
    Kurt grinned. “What can I say? Fame’s a bitch.”
    “Yeah, and I can see your fragile ego is handling it so well.”
    This time, Kurt laughed outright. “You know all that shit I said earlier about Aussie Rules football? I was trying to wind you up.” He glanced away, then focused on his beer, intensely interested in the label. “I watched a few games of yours once Dad told me about you. You’re good.” He looked up, admiration in his stare. “You’re a fucking gun.”
    “Thanks.”
    And Zane meant it. Because against his better judgment, he did have something in common with Kurt. Their love of an oval shaped ball.
    “You on the other hand?” Zane shrugged. “From the video clips I’ve seen, your game’s pretty average.”
    Sadly, he couldn’t keep a straight face after delivery and he joined in Kurt’s laughter.
    It felt good to laugh with his half-brother. Great, in fact. Maybe now they’d got past the pissing contest to establish who was the bigger man, they could start down the track of being mates.
    “At the risk of screwing up our bonding session totally, Dad really was cut up about not being here.”
    Just like that, Zane’s mood soured again.
    “You think he’s a mean old bastard, but you’re all he’s talked about since he found out you were coming.” Kurt squirmed, appearing uncomfortable. “It must be shit, having him ignore your existence all these years, but give him a chance, okay?”
    “I’m here, aren’t I?” Zane said, grudgingly, hating that Christopher wasn’t the one here, begging for forgiveness.
    “Yeah, I guess you are.” Kurt held up his beer. “To friendship. And discovering which football code has the bigger balls.”
    Zane nodded and tapped his beer bottle against his brother’s. “I’ll drink to that.” He took a slug. “But it’s no contest. Aussie Rules wins every time.”
    “Don’t make me beat you.” Kurt grinned.
    “Like to see you try, big guy.”
    With that, they drank their beer, their silence comfortable. Until Zane remembered he had another place to be: holed up in his suite with the woman who may be the first to rock his world.

 
     
     
CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    Chantal didn’t think things could get any worse.
    Her romantic tryst with Zane in LA had been a bust the last two days. Forty-eight long hours when she’d been holed up in her suite with a stomach virus, alternating between visits to the toilet and curling up in bed in a fetal position.
    She’d banished Zane after he’d tried to play nursemaid for the first hour, too embarrassed to be seen in such a state. No guy wanted to see his girl writhing around in agony or with her head over the porcelain. He hadn’t wanted to go but she’d vowed to withhold sexual favors for the rest of his stay in the States. Considering they hadn’t got that far yet, it was a hollow threat, but he’d cottoned onto her misery pretty fast and had left her in peace.
    He’d texted and called several times, ensuring she was hydrated and medicated. He’d even knocked on the interconnecting door between their suites a few times asking if he could help but she’d driven him away with a few choice curses when he wanted to linger.
    Thankfully, she was past the worst of it now and had agreed to meet him in the lobby bar before his tryout with the LA Owls.
    Determined to look fabulous even if she didn’t feel it, Chantal applied lashings of mascara and coral