Page 44 of Every Move You Make

“I’d say. It was a scrum-heavy game you played. Here…” He turns and pulls a jar of Tiger Balm out from the drawer. “Want some?”

“I love that stuff,” I smile, taking it from him and unscrewing the lid.

“I know.”

It dawns on me then that I need to take my shirt off in order to apply this. Ruggers are notorious for being half-naked at any given time, popping our shirts off and having our shorts pulled down by opposing players, et cetera. Now, I’m acutely aware that this situation is different, but it shouldn’t be.

“Would you like me to leave?” he asks, sensing my trepidation.

I don’t, but saying I do would be admitting something is inherently strange between us, and I can’t allow that. “No, it’s fine. Um…” I step away from his legs and turn around before lifting my shirt over my head and exposing my black sports bra. Before I take the open balm from him, I flash a reassuring smile, though I’m not sure if it’s for him or for me.

Scooping a couple fingers in the jar, I bring the potent pain-relief gel to my shoulders and rub it in. I’m angled halfway between him and the shower, unsure where Ishould be looking. When I try to rub it where it’s needed most, just below my neck but a little out of reach, he says, “Here, let me help.”

“Oh. Th–thanks.”

I hold the jar out for him to take a swipe, and he stands closer before massaging it into my skin. “Down here?” he asks, his voice a little lower, a little strained.

I swallow. “Yeah, just under the fabric of…” Suddenly using the words ‘sports bra’ feels like the naughtiest thing I could ever say, so I don’t. Thankfully he knows what I mean, and he slides his warm hand down my spine and kneads into my traps.

Why the fuck am I so aroused right now? I hooked up with a guy two weeks ago and it wasn’t nearly this hot or erotic. What the hell is wrong with me?

“That breakaway you had in the last five minutes was incredible,” he says, rubbing in tight, firm circles. “You played great today.”

A bubbling spirit forms in my belly and I smile. “Thank you. You played great, too. I’m always impressed with how hard you launch into scrums.”

The Tiger Balm is fully massaged at this point and we both know it. But instead of taking his hand away, he slowly swipes his full palm across my shoulder blade and down my bicep.Jesus Christ, I’m going to have to wash my compression shorts for two different reasons now.

“Did I miss anywhere?” he asks.

My lips?I think to myself, but settle on saying, “I think you got it. Thank you.” I swipe my shirt from the counter and put it back on, already missing the feel of his hands on me.

God, it’s warm in here. I should change the subject. “It’s too bad men and women can’t play against each other. I’d give you a run for your money.”

“Oh, would you?” he chuckles, but there’s a dangerousundercurrent. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“It wouldn’t be a fair competition.”

“Why, ‘cuz your hand is busted up?”

“Because I’m bigger, better, and stronger than you, Robyn.”

“OH! So now you’re wrongandyou’re challenging me?”

Isaiah throws his head back and laughs. “You are so stubborn.”

“I’m confident, there’s a difference. Now c’mon,” I say, dragging him by the elbow out of the bathroom and heading for the backyard, determination taking control. “Try and tackle me.”

“What are we supposed to do, play one-on-one?” he asks. We make our way through a sea of ruggers and step outside into the crisp autumn evening. “That’s not a thing.” The sun is still high enough to cast a warm early-evening glow.

“Girls versus guys,” I tell him. I shout over to a couple of my teammates to join us, and a couple of his join too. “Three-on-three should do it. Now don’t hold back.”

He sighs and shakes his head in amusement. “I am going toseverelyhold back.”

I find a ball and with a foot tap, the pickup game starts. I regret my decision to challenge him within ten seconds becauseholy fucking shit he is a lot bigger than me. It’s one thing when you’re standing next to him chatting and sipping on a beer. It’s another when a man that size is rushing toward you. I’m a tall, broad girl, and opposing players almost never intimidate me, but this isdifferent.

How is he this fast, too? Props aren’t supposed to be this fast!

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