Page 15 of The Hooker

“That’s because you don’t like other people in your space. Doesn’t stop you gossiping, though.”

He raises an eyebrow, and I stop myself from slapping my hand over it. “Exactly. She doesn’t mind you in her space. She met your mum yet?”

I avert my gaze and mumble, “No, but they’ve talked on the phone. Mum wants me to bring her to dinner.”

Suli laughs and falls backwards, hitting the grass, messing up his tight curls he’s managed to maintain during training, and clutches his chest.

“If you don’t shut up, I will make you shut up,” I threaten and shove his shoulder. It doesn’t stop his laughter from fucking turning into giggles. Suli isn’t Samoan but his family’s Tongan, so he understands the importance of my mum wanting to meet Daisy. And we aren’t even dating.

“You’re screwed if your mum wants to meet her,” he says breathlessly after he finally stops giggling.

I sigh and lie on the grass again. “I know.”

“Talk to management anyway. So they know you’re in love with her and can cover your asses. It’s better she stops treating you now before they think something happened.”

I rub my chest. “Who said anything about love?”

“You didn’t need to, cuz. You bought her matcha.” Suli stands and drags me up with him. He claps my shoulder. “Talk to management before something happens and you both lose your jobs.”

“I’ll think about it.” I hesitate but decide to ask, “You don’t think what I’m doing is stupid? I thought all the glaring at the airport meant murder.”

“Thought you weren’t doing anything?”

“I’m not…but I want to. And sometimes I think she does too.”

“If all you wanted was to sleep with her, then it would be murder. But that’s not what you want, is it?” Suli asks.

“No, it’s not.”

“Then go about it the right way, so no one takes issue with it. You’ve kind of stuffed yourself falling in love with your medical provider.” He slaps my shoulder and jogs to the field where training’s beginning again and calls over his shoulder, “Good luck!”

I’m gonna need it.

I hadn’t considered involving management until something happens, or she agrees to date me. Don’t see a point in causing issues if there aren’t any. But I don’t want either of us to get in trouble, even if nothing happens. Maybe I should talk to management? Mention my feelings for her and ask for a different physio in case anything happens.

But…what if Daisy doesn’t want that? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by telling her about my feelings if she doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t think involving management is necessary. Either way, I still want her to be my friend.

I hold a tackle pad in front of my body and wait for Johnny to run at me. His cheeks are bright red, completely covering his white skin, and his sandy hair is dripping with sweat. I stagger under the impact, but keep my feet under me. Now isn’t the time to figure out what to do about Daisy and management. I need to focus on winning the cup. That’s what’s important right now. When the season’s over, I can talk to Daisy.

My new philosophy doesn’t last long.

We’re given Friday off to relax before the game tomorrow, and I’m in the hotel lounge with Suli and Johnny after dinner, playing go fish to pass the time. Some of the boys found a place to play basketball, others went swimming, but I need to forget about it all and make sure my body isn’t too tired tomorrow. It’s times like this I remember I’m one of the oldest guys on the team, and next season will probably be my last. My body is begging me to stop throwing myself at people. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop soon, though.

Daisy trudges through the lobby, head lowered.

If I retired, it would be easier to ask her out without the implications for our careers. I shut the thought down hard. I play for the national New Zealand rugby team, and I’m dreaming of retirement so I can ask out a woman? My sixteen-year-old self would kick me in the balls if he could hear me. A woman over footy? No way.

I track her walk to the lifts and frown when I notice her tightly crossed arms, hand white-knuckled on her phone, and a curtain of hair covering her face. She was more reserved today, didn’t talk as much during training and smiled less. You’d only know there was something wrong if you knew what to look for. She doesn’t usually have tight lines at the corner of her eyes, which added to everything else, confirms something’s wrong.

Suddenly the woman does seem more important than footy. Family and friends last longer than the game I’ve played over half my life.

“Do you have the four of spades?”

“Go fish, J-boy. I gotta check on something.” I drop my cards on the table and stand.

“What?” Suli asks.

“Something. See you tomorrow.” I stride to the lifts and click level ten, ignoring Suli’s searching gaze and Johnny’s confused stare.

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