Page 39 of Playing Rucking Hard

“Uh-huh,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Tell me, Dylan. How many women have fallen for that line?”

I shrug, feigning innocence. “I’ve honestly lost count. But you’re the first one who’s made me work this hard for a second conversation.”

“Good.” Her lips curve, and the spark in her eyes makes my chest tighten. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

“Mission accomplished.”

The banter flows from there, effortless and easy. Coffees are delivered, and I feed Emma cake from my plate and then hers, loving just having the ability to feed her, take care of her.Who am I, and where did I bury the real Dylan Fleski?

We talk about everything and nothing—her adjusting to the cheer squad, me juggling training and PR nightmares. But beneath the teasing and the laughter, I can almost see the walls falling until reality doesn’t exist, the non-fraternization policy doesn’t exist, and there’s only Emma and me, and a lifetime of opportunity.

When the conversation dips, I finally get the chance to say, “I’m not going to ask you about the first night again, but why didn’t you come back to mine last night?”

She shifts in her seat, her smile faltering for a second before she recovers. “I thought you’d want your space. Anyway, aren’tyou busy juggling your... what is it? PR commitments, training, and the endless supply of women throwing themselves at you?”

“Not endless,” I protest. “And besides, I’ve got priorities.”

“Oh, really? Enlighten me.”

“Well, there’s rugby league, obviously.” I tick off my fingers. “Then there’s trying to stay out of trouble—which, let’s be honest, is a losing battle. And now there’s figuring out how to get you to stop running away every time you see me.”

Emma huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re so bad, you’re incorrigible.”

“Big word for a small-town girl,” I tease, earning a playful glare.

“Small-town girls know a lot of words, Dylan. We also know when someone’s full of it.”

“Ouch.” I place a hand over my heart like she’s physically wounded me. “And here I thought we had something special.”

“We’ve had... two nights,” she says softly, her gaze dropping to her coffee. “Well, almost nights.”

“Plus one kiss. Don’t go forgetting about the kiss to end all kisses,” I remind her of the charity event.

“How can I possibly forget?” Her eyes glisten, and her voice loses the fear for the sassy flirt I’m growing to adore. “I thought we were going to get caught and it would be the last kiss of my life.”

“And if it was?”

“I’d die happy.” Emma shrugs nonchalantly. “Unemployed, broke, but happy.”

“And who’d miss you?” I move on to the subject she keeps avoiding. “Parents, siblings, husband, ex-boyfriend, friends?”

“Nice try but unless and until the two of us can walk down the street and not care about being papped, you don’t need to know about my family or friends.”

“I’ll let you off with that answer, for now.” Becoming an enthusiastic expert in her body language, I can tell when Emma’s ready to bolt for the closest exit. “Forgetting the fact that my list of ex-girlfriends can be carved on a pinhead, the whole thinking about someone and risking what we are risking being with that someone—what we have doesn’t happen often.”

Her eyes snap to mine. I feel her vulnerability and fear. There’s something other than my reputation holding her back, and I refuse to think it’s because of her job. Did she escape a violent ex? Is she married, and he’s waiting on a visa? I can think of about one hundred reasons she doesn’t want to talk about other people in her life. None of them end favorably for me.

“You really don’t quit, do you?” Her fingers twist the strap of her bag.

“Not when it matters.” I keep my gaze light but focused on her. I’ll relax when she releases the bag. “Spoiler alert, you matter.”

She hesitates and sighs. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You don’t believe that.”

Her lips part like she’s about to argue, but then she just shakes her head and takes another sip of her coffee.

“So,” I say, swirling the last of my coffee, breaking the tension with a grin, “when’s the next time we’re gonnarun intoeach other?”

---