Page 28 of Big Rucking Disaster

Yardley arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Even as I said the words, I tapped on the notification from Roger telling me tonotcheck my notifications.Yeah, right.

Even as I scrolled, my heart sank.

“Carly?”

I met Yardley’s gaze.

“Yeah. It’s…bad.” Best I could tell, she’d done a rant on Insta telling everyone what a bastard I was, and she’d tagged every member of the team who had an account.

Yardley placed his hand over mine. “Think very carefully about what you do next. Your first instinct might not be the right one.”

“You mean defending myself?” My hand shook.

“Remember to consider the source. I’m sorry to say people will judge, but Carly’s portrayed herself a certain way and garnereda specific type of following—those who love drama. You’ve been trying to be more—” He appeared to consider. “—serious. You posted about the clinic, even though you didn’t mention the kids by name. Which was appreciated. You’ve posted a lot about Isaiah and Travis. LGBTQ-friendly stuff. You’ve reached people, and you probably don’t even realize. Reacting in anger—or frustration—to her, won’t stand you in good stead.

My phone buzzed again.

Roger. Telling me to assure him I was okay.

I typed out a quick message that I was. That I was with Yardley, and I wouldn’t do anything stupid.

He gave me the thumbs-up and then ordered me to put my phone away.

Probably the toughest thing I’ve ever done.

I powered my phone down, then put it in my back pocket.

After all, I was sitting across from one of the nicest people I’d ever met. I’d deal with Carly’s screed in the morning.

Chapter Nine

Yardley

Relief washed over me as he put his phone away. I couldn’t stop him from doing something hotheaded and stupid tomorrow…but I could prevent him from doing that tonight. “Tell me about your dreams.”

He blinked. “My what?”

“Your dreams? I assume playing professional rugby’s one of them. Otherwise I’d have to wonder why you put yourself through that physical torture every day. How’s the knee?”

He shook his leg out. “Good to go.” He scratched his nose. “Yeah, pro rugby was my dream from an early age. As soon as my uncle introduced me to it. I might’ve thought he’d be into football—the world kind…”

I knew he meant soccer, so I nodded.

“But he really was into rugby. He was…I don’t want to say a violent man. He never raised a hand to me. But he was a brutal man. A cruel man. He loved…well, violence. He loved when guys got hurt. I didn’t as much, but I pretended I did. Anyway, he got me signed up and playing early on. Best thing he ever did forme. Well, that, and insisting I finish high school. He didn’t think I’d be good for much other than playing, but he figured I needed some kind of education behind me.”

“Did you ever go to university?”

He pursed his lips. “Uh, no. I took a few courses at BCIT. This and that. Mostly to keep me busy.”

The British Columbia Institute of Technology, hmm? He’d piqued my curiosity. “What kinds of classes?”

“I messed around with some marketing stuff. I dunno, I thought I could work on improving rugby’s reputation.”

“Sounds noble.”

“Well, I’ve never had the guts to talk to our front office about it. I just, like, did some projects. I was also looking at maybe taking an accounting class—I’m good at math. But they seemed hard, and I was working all the time in my courier job while trying to make the squad. Then I did—so I set my sights on the national team.”

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