Just Good Friends by Rosalind James Page B

quite understand that.”
    “Because Maori was an oral language. Nothing written down,
in the beginning. Which means our culture’s been carried on by songs and
legends over the years. Symbols, too. That’s why you’ll see the same symbols
used everywhere. Maori moko all have the curving shapes, for example, that you
see on mine. That’s the koru—the fiddlehead of the fern. Look around, and
you’ll see that all over. It symbolizes new life, new beginnings, the changes
in life. But all the symbols represent our connection to Maoritanga and our ancestors.
Which means if you disrespect them, you’re disrespecting our mana—our spiritual
power. And it matters. You need to be careful.”
    “Wow. I’m lucky you’re still talking to me, I guess, after I
said what I did. This is me apologizing again now. I really didn’t mean any
disrespect. It’s just that you’re like some kind of walking fantasy.”
    “Getting into deep waters again,” he smiled. “Can’t keep you
out of trouble for a minute.”
     
    “Thanks for today,” he told her as he drove them back to
Takapuna. “It helped.”
    “Me too. Like I said, a pretty lousy week, though not as bad
as yours. What’s the plan next week?”
    “Since I won’t be playing,” he said with a grimace, “I have
more free time. Want to try surfing again on Saturday morning?”
    “My shoulders might have recovered by then. They’re awfully
sore right now.”
    “Want a massage?” he grinned.
    “No, thanks, Mr. Irresistible. I’ll settle for a bath.”
    “Can I watch?”
    “No!” she laughed. “You really are terrible. Besides, I’m
not your type, remember?”
    “I may be changing my mind,” he mused.
    “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Hannah’s your dream girl. I
haven’t forgotten that. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m nothing like her. In
looks or personality. Not to mention that I’m more than a foot shorter than you
are, which would be impossible.”
    “Impossible? How? Interesting, maybe. Because there are ways
around that,” he said, with another sideways grin. “I’ll give it some thought.
Maybe you should, too.”
    Kate resolutely put aside the image that conjured up. “We
are not having this discussion,” she told him firmly. “Unless you want to wear
that pink hoodie. Let’s make a plan for Saturday.”
    “Unless you have a date with your new girlfriend.”
    “Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “You’re more likely to have
a date with yours, anyway.”
    “Don’t have one. I’m not dating anyone just now.”
    “Excuse me? What about that woman a few weeks ago? When I
was running,” she clarified as he looked blank.
    “Oh.” He shrugged. “Not a girlfriend. Just a . . . an
acquaintance.”
    “Right,” she said dryly. “Gotcha. Not dating anyone, just .
. . acquainting yourself. If anyone’s extra-cute, that is.”
    “It happens,” he agreed cheerfully. “When I don’t have a
girlfriend. But not just anyone. I’ve been a footballer a fair few years now. Got
that out of my system a while ago.”
    “And that’s a tasteful image too.” She shook her head. “I’m
changing the subject once again. I seem to do that a lot. How many years have
you been playing?”
    “Professionally? This is my fifth. For the Chiefs in
Hamilton, the first year. Then I went to England for two years. For the money,
mostly. I missed New Zealand, though. My family, my mates, the sea. The land,
for that matter. Everything, really. And I wanted to be an All Black. Wanted
that most of all. So I came back. This is my second season with the Blues.”
    “And next time,” he told her, pulling into the carpark again
and helping her shift her gear to her own car, “we’re talking about you. Don’t
know why I always end up giving you an earbashing.”     
    “Because you’re not so focused on doing other things, is
why. I’ll bet you don’t normally sit around talking to women.”
    “I could do both,” he argued. “I can