Page 1 of There is No Try

PROLOGUE — LUCAS

“Ihave something I’d like to share,” Ronan announces, interrupting Russ on our weekly group therapy call. I was daydreaming and missed the first part of the conversation, unable to listen to Russ droning on for the thousandth time about how he didn’t mean to hurt a man on the ice. He can only claim it was an accident for so long—we’ve all seen the footage; he clearly has anger issues he needs to address. He snapped. It happens. Though every session is the same when we get to him and it’s easy to zone out.

I’ve been attending therapy for the past six months. My rugby club requires it of all players, and I was able to find a small group with three other athletes. Ronan plays football in Ireland, Russ is a suspended hockey goalie in Canada, and Will’s a top quarterback in American football. I prefer this group to ones that have a few of my mates here in Australia; it keeps my private life private.

“Met someone?” Russ asks Ronan, brows pinched, and I tune back into the conversation.

“I suppose I’m using ‘met’ loosely; we’ve been talking for over a year,” Ronan continues, and I perk up. “This past month, things have been shifting between us to the point I haven’t dated…anyone. No one interests me. I know this isn’t meant for dating advise, but I don’t know what to fucking do!” He blows out a long breath, raking his hand through his dark auburn hair. “I’m like a damn teenager with a crush.”

With Cork interested in me for their rugby team, Ronan and I have been talking almost daily for the past few weeks. It’s come up a few times that he's interested in an English reporter. He’s never shared in our group messages with Will and Russ about her, and I’m glad he’s finally telling them.

“Ronan, we’ve been over this,” Vicky, our therapist, interjects. “We’d like to keep our f-bombs to a minimum here. This is a safe space. Russ, can we pause on your incident and circle back to it?” He nods. “Ronan, feel free to tell us about this woman.”

I can’t help asking Vicky, “How do you know it’s a woman?” Ronan’s friend, Nora, is most definitely a woman, but I hate how there is always the assumption. Personally, I don’t care if they’re a man, woman, or nonbinary; when I fall for someone, it has nothing to do with what’s between their legs. Each and every time I tell a friend or my family that I’m dating, they always jump to, “Who isshe?” even when they know I’m pansexual.

“True, a valid point, Lucas,” Vicky agrees.

Ronan rolls his eyes and groans, “Yes, it’s a woman. She’s my mate’s ex.” He’s told me on several occasions how he’s pissed at himself for falling for Nora, so I don’t take the eyeroll personally. It’s an impossible situation.

Will’s voice booms through the screen, startling me. “No, nope,noooo!Run away, change your name, change your phone number.” I stifle a laugh; Will would rather suck his own cock than settle down with anyone.

“It’s not like that,” Ronan professes. “They dated over a decade ago, and we’re just friends. She interviewed me when I played for Ireland in the World Cup and we kept in touch. She’s smart, fucking beautiful…” He blows out a long breath. “In the last month we’ve been…flirting?At least I am. She’s coming to Ireland in a few weeks for work. What should I do?”

Vicky carefully offers, “You could ask her on a date when she’s there after discussing it with your friend? But as far as relationships are concerned, I’d highly recommend that any potential partners you gentlemen court are privy to the fact you’re attending therapy. Don’t wait until eight months into the relationship to discuss your mental health.”

Russ folds his arms over his chest and huffs, “I don’t have mental health issues.”

“We know,” I groan at the same time as Ronan and Will.

“I say go for it,” I suggest. “What’s the worst that can happen? Single mums are hot.”

“When was the last time you dated, Luc?” Will’s question is honest, void of his typical alpha male bullshit, taking me by surprise.

“It’s been a while,” I admit. I’m in a similar predicament as Ronan—no one interests me. “I think I need a change. The new Irish rugby league has been interested in me for a while. I should move to Cork, then Ronan’s girl can match me with one of herfriends.” I wink, and Ronan cocks an eyebrow for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “What do you say, mate?”

Ronan smirks but doesn’t reply, and Vicky wraps up our call after we discuss Will’s current debacle with his PR manager. A minute after I shut down my laptop, I have a text from Ronan.

Ronan

As long as you don’t fuck Bridget, come play for Cork!

Who is Bridget?

My sister! I’ve told you about her.

Oh, right. Sorry, mate.

Why are you bringing up your sister?

Because you’re the arsehole who mentioned single mums are hot.

They are.

Rest assured, if I come to Ireland, I won’t fuck your sister.

You should play here, but have you seen the proposed Cork rugby mascot?

No.

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