Page 15 of Arrogant Rucking Player

I didn’t know if he meant the blacked out restaurant, my drooping reindeer costume or my untimely kiss with a rugby star on his premises. Nor did I really want to find out. But he was still technically my employer, as well as my ex, so I followed him through the kitchen in a walk of shame, my antlers held as high as my costume allowed while Chaz cheered quietly for me.

Welp, at least I had someone’s support. Tonight, I’d take that with both hands. Hooves, even.

I even managed not to let the door hit me on my tailpiece on the way out.

CHAPTER SEVEN

MASON

Ishouldn’t have kissed her.

Nothing else crossed my mind as the lights went out and the restaurant plunged into darkness. I took the steps in pairs—or maybe threes—hearing Coach's voice berating me in the back of my head about busted ankles before next season even started and the upcoming charity match, but paid his grumpy ass voice no attention anyway.

All I wanted was to get to Nyla because I couldn't leave her like that. Flushed and jittering about like a glow bug on New Year’s with nowhere to go. But when I hit the darkened kitchen in time to hear Brady’s too-loud comment in the silence, I knew I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or maybe at the right time.

And then her ex talked down to her like she was nothing.

Fuck me. I’ll rip that man apart.

Torn between letting her look after herself and standing square between her and the asshole she shouldn't have to deal with anymore, I hesitated a second too long. When I reached for her again, my swiping hand came up empty. A second later, the lights flickered back on, and I stood in a kitchen full of cooks all staring at me, wearing identical grins on their faces.

A tug at hip height broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Brady. Uh, hi.” I cleaned my throat as he motioned me down to him. Hell, I swore this kid grew taller every time I saw him.

“Mason.” Brady cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled into my ear.

I winced. “Yeah, mate.”

“You kissed my mum.”

I’d be deaf by the end of the night, and it had nothing to do with the extra whiskey chaser I threw back with Leon earlier.

“Yeah, mate.”

Brady giggled. “Are you gonna come stay with us? She doesn’t date, you know that.”

“Yeah, I—”Shit, which question am I answering?I cleared my throat and stretched my cramped calves. “I know she doesn’t date, mate. We’re gonna take it slow, okay? Look after you both. Cause you’re important.”

Brady’s face fell a bit and I felt like shit on the spot. “Okay.”

I ruffled his hair. “It's gonna be okay, bud.” I wanted to tack on anI promiseat the end of that, but I couldn't commit to that without speaking to Nyla first, so I didn’t. The breath I let out said everything I felt, so I left it at that. The little dude at my waist height seemed to get it, thankfully. He’d seen more than his fair share of fights, I figured, from how his dad and their relationship seemed to progress, shitty as that hand had dealt out to him.

But as I raised my head to face off with the rest of the kitchen, thankfully only one cook was left staring at me. He offered a double thumbs up and jerked his head toward the back door I hadn't noticed before.

“She’s out there with St–” Brady took a deep breath and tried again. “With Stuart.” He shuffled on the spot.

“You think they’re fighting?” I looked down at him, recalling the bruises on Nyla’s wrist when I first met her. I’d never asked where they came from, but if he hurt her, Leon would have a hell of a media storm to clean up in the aftermath. My jaw tightened.

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask that I couldn’t because he was nine, and that wasn’t fair on him. Nor could I ask the chef guy, because the kitchen was full of people all pretending not to listen in about Nyla’s private life where I got the impression they already knew plenty.

The supportive chef guy opened his mouth as I headed for the door, but it wasn’t his hand on my arm that stopped me.

“Leave it.” Leon’s command halted my feet in their tracks, my body preprogrammed to respond to his commands.

I sighed and stared down at the floor. A pair of my smaller shoes joined mine. I ignored my coach for a long moment. “Does your dad ever hurt your mum, Brady?” I asked in a tight voice I couldn’t shake.

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