Page 12 of Hot Rucking Canadian

Mallow was right there to clap the guy on the back.

The score went up by five.

I rubbed my forehead.

Guess I have a lot to learn.

Except…I hadn’t given Mallow my number. And yeah, I knew where he lived. But if I just showed up, would he let me in? If I left a note with the concierge, would Mallow even bother to respond?

You really screwed the pooch when you walked away without a backward glance.

Except I had glanced backward. Last night as I’d fallen asleep and again right now. I was looking back and regretting my hasty retreat.

And fearing it was too late to do anything about it.

Chapter Six

Isaiah

“You make the best sapasui.” I gave Mama my winningest smile.

She ruffled my short hair. “You scored the winning goal. So I make your favorite. Seems simple to me.”

Given how hard she worked at her day job, it was hardly fair for her to come home and make my favorite meal. She enjoyed spoiling me, though.

And I sort of enjoyed being spoiled…so it all worked out.

“Are you working Thanksgiving?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’m working Christmas.”

“That’s good of you.”

“Well, my baby is all grown up. I figure I can take the extra shifts and let the mothers and fathers be home with their children.” She pointed her fork at me. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Maybe Johnnie and I can do something.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That boy is trouble.”

I burst out laughing. “Mama, he’s older than I am. And he’s neverin trouble.”

“No, trouble just follows him around.”

Okay, so he might’ve gotten a woman pregnant last year.

He’d been prepared to marry her. She’d miscarried and had ended the relationship. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d been heartbroken.

I think he’d kind of liked the idea of being a dad.

Despite everything, he’d been prepared to try to make the relationship work. Apparently the woman hadn’t felt the same way.

“He’s trying.”

“He is that.” She arched an eyebrow. “But you’re sticking to the nice boys, right?”

Mama had figured out I was gay almost before I had. She’d respected my decision not to come out until I’d been in the league a year, though. From age fourteen to twenty-four, I’d hidden who I really was. Not ideal for a young man with raging hormones—but I’d had a larger goal in mind. I wanted to play professional rugby. To me, that meant staying in the closet.

“Nice boys…” I eyed my mother.

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