Page 40 of Thunderstruck
Cole smirks at me. “I know hisname, Carissa.”
“Then why don’t you use it?”
“I’ll call him Wyatt when he stops calling me Rihanna.”
I almost forgot that’s what they call Cole; they rarely talk to him anyway. “Where did your nickname come from?”
“Coal under pressure becomes a diamond.”
I frown. “I get that, but what does that have to do with Rihanna?”
“It’s one of her songs.”
“Ah.”
“And they think I’m a diva because I was used to wearing padding when I got tackled.” There’s a shout behind him, and he glances back, nodding at someone. “I should get back out there.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Just say no. Unless you honestly want to say yes, that’s all you need to do.” With another smirk, he jogs back onto the field.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that feels…lighter? It’s as much in his facial expressions, so much looser and less reserved, as it is in his body language. He was so stiff before, even last night, but today he’s moving with more fluidity in his steps.
It’s great for his flexibility and for preventing injuries, but as I watch him laugh at something Moxie says to him, I wonder if this change is benefiting him in other ways too.
And I wonder what made the change in the first place and if it has anything to do with me.
“Well that was interesting.” Mel pops up at my side out of nowhere, making me jump.
Breathless, I press a hand over my heart and ask, “What?”
“Cole.”
“What about him?”
She purses her lips, looking at me in the same way my mom used to look at me when she thought I was lying about something. I almostneverlie, but I have the worst poker face in the history of ever, which meanssometimes people think I’m lying when I’m not. “Did something happen between you two?”
Aside from him being raw and real and making me a simple but delicious dinner and giving me a space to feel safe enough to admit what happened with Peter and letting me borrow his car because I don’t have one? “No, of course not,” I say. “I barely know him.”
And while that’s true, I know more than I ever thought I would. I may not know his favorite foods or why he started playing rugby or how he became friends with a movie star, but I know he has a lot of trauma that he hides from people and thinks he can’t let himself be happy and loved because of some crazy family history.
I pick him out of the mass of men on the field and watch the way he is so focused as the players gather to throw the ball into play from the sideline. One of these days I’m going to need to learn the rules of this game, but it’s fun to watch regardless. Tink throws the ball at the same time several players lift French Roast straight into the air to catch it. French Roast tosses it to Cole before touching the ground, and Cole throws it immediately to Moxie behind him, who makes a run for it but tosses the ball to the side to another player—Sharkie—who bolts forward but is tackled only a few feet later.
Cole is right there in the mess of men, grabbing the ball and doing it all over again. Every time a player goes down, he’s there to keep the ball moving.
Why don’t any of his teammates like him? Even I know he’s good at what he does, and I don’t have a clue how the game works.
Mel clears her throat, pulling my attention back to her. “I’m just noticing a shift,” she says.
I’m going to be spending a lot of time with this woman, so I sigh and lift my shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I guess we became friends last night.Justfriends,” I add when her eyebrows fly high. “He’s letting me use his car so I can getto work every day.”
“Interesting.”
I want to ask what is so interesting about it, but at the same time I don’t. I already know Cole’s relationship with his teammates is strained, and he doesn’t need me gossiping about him. The tabloids do that enough.
I Googled his name again last night after I drove to my apartment, both to revisit that article with me in it and to see more of what people say about Cole Evanson the rugby player. Honestly, they don’t talk about his game much. Most of the stories are about his ex getting married soon or tedious blathering about his friendships. I came across a few older stories that speculated about Cole’s reasons for leaving football, and I quickly moved away from those.
I know Darcy would love to get the scoop on why Cole switched to rugby, but I don’t want to betray anyone’s trust the way I accidentally did hers. Her secret is safe for now, but I won’t do anything to risk that. Cole’s secrets have to be safe too.
Especially when he looks over at me every once in a while and gives me a quick smile. Whatever has changed in him, I want to make sure it stays.
For the rest of practice, Mel walks me through what will happen at the game tomorrow, and I’m glad for the distraction. If I watch the beautiful men on the team for too long, my heart starts to get wild ideas. Mostly about a specific beautiful man. The game will involve a lot more potential for injury than practice does, so I force myself to pay attention to my job.
