Page 10 of Hot Rucking Canadian

He grinned. “Yeah, but I don’t want to be a bartender for the rest of my life. I’m dipping my toe into acting. I’ve got an agent and everything.”

“Wow.” I knew absolutely nothing about the entertainment industry.

No, that wasn’t strictly true. I knew the whole thing was huge up here in Vancouver, and I knew breaking in was super tough.

“You going to be the next Ryan Reynolds?” Hometown boy who had done incredibly well for himself—and insisted on giving back to Canada every chance he got.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He leaned closer. “See that group near the back?”

Surreptitiously, I flicked my gaze that way. About fifteen people. “Yeah, okay.”

“They’re fromVigilante Justice. Some cast, some crew, and the producer.”

“Okay.”

“I would do anything to get a part on that show. Even just a walk-on role.”

Slowly, I returned my gaze to him. “I don’t watch the show.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “Oh God, you’re missing out. It’s amazing. It’s about this superhero and his nemesis…”

He continued on about some plot, but I sort of—to my shame—tuned him out. If the people from the show were here, then whynot just go over? I was a proponent of taking risks. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gone home with Marshmallow last night.

I should just call himMallow. I often gave guys nicknames in my mind. Especially if I hadn’t gotten their name.You could’ve gotten his name. Hell, you might have even gotten a repeat if you hadn’t taken off like the chickenshit you are.

Sure. But then I’d have had to admit I’d felt differently about him. That last night hadn’t been a usual— “Holy shit.”

“What?” Joe cocked his head. “You didn’t hear a word—”

I pointed to the television. “What the fuck is that?”

He turned for just a moment, then turned back. “That, my friend, is rugby. You’ve never seen a game before?”

No, I was certain I hadn’t.

Yes, I wish I had before now.

Because before me was Mallow, being slapped on the back by a guy in the same turquoise-and-black uniform.

Turquoise had been my mother’s favorite color. Otherwise I would’ve just called it some weird shade of blue or green.

All of a sudden, men from what were clearly opposing sides, all leaned in and made this weird…formation.

“What the fuck is that?”

“A scrum.”

“Hey, Joe?” A soft lilting voice came from behind me.

I was too entranced in the show to pay her any mind.

“Yeah, Polly?”

“Valentino would like a rum and Coke.”

Joe cleared his throat.

“I’ll watch the bar if you want to deliver it to him. Do you have your headshot handy?”

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