Page 74 of Thunderstruck
“Mox.”
He nods to his left. I see Bean first, sitting at a table just like in the photo, but it takes me longer than I’d like to find Carissa. She and Freddie, the new starting fly-half, are huddled together and giggling over something on Carissa’s phone. She’s holding the phone, but her hand is resting in Freddie’s palm.
“Is the phone too heavy?” I grumble to myself, grabbing the drink in front of Moxie without looking away from Carissa. When I take a sip, expecting something bitter, I’m caught off guard by the ice water in the glass. I look at Moxie, raising an eyebrow.
He chuckles. “What, you think most of us actually come here to drink? Unlike you, a lot of us have jobs with early hours, and it’s not worth the risk of a hangover.”
I can’t decide if I’m grateful for the lack of alcohol or annoyed that I can’t distract myself from the way Carissa interacts so freely with my teammates. Mostly, I feel guilty realizing I have no idea what any of these guys do outside of rugby.
Returning Moxie’s drink to him, I swallow my pride and ask, “What do you do?”
Chuckling again, he takes a long drink of water before he says, “I’m a vet. Finished school right before you joined the team.”
I curse under my breath, trying to imagine going through veterinary school while playing a sport as rigorous as rugby. Moxie has been playing with the Thunder for three years, since the team was formed. “That’s impressive,” I tell him. “I barely managed two years of college.”
“Not all of us can be champion NFL players with million-dollar paychecks right out of the gate.”
I snort a laugh and relax in my seat. Mostly. Part of my focus is still on the way Carissa is now arm wrestling French Roast, who is easily twice her size. If I’m going to befriend my teammates, I need to start with the guy I know will talk to me. “I was third string my first two years,” I tell Moxie. “Never saw a game.”
“Ah, you’re one of those underdog stories?”
“Hardly. I was good at what I did, but the other guys cost more so they got to play. If they hadn’t gotten injured, I would have gotten my chance eventually. It just would have taken longer.” I furrow my brow. “It’s weird to have someone not know any of this. Sometimes it feels like the whole world knows my story.”
Moxie’s smile is half amusement, half sympathy. “I don’t know how you do it, man. All those articles posted about you? That would drive me nuts.”
I wonder if he’s seen the ones with Carissa, though I’m too afraid to ask. We’ve been lucky that no other stories have dropped—probably because I’ve kept my distance—but speakingHot Scoop’sname out loud feels like tempting fate. “You get used to it,” I say with a shrug.
Carissa’s bright laugh rings out across the bar.
Tension fills my shoulders as I look over and watch her dance with Sharkie despite this being a crowded bar, not a club. She looks so…happy. Better than she’s looked all week. Maybe she’s better off without me.
“So,” Moxie says, pulling my gaze back to him. “You came out tonight. Please tell me you didn’t come just to talk to me.”
“I came to make sure none of the guys bothered Carissa.”
“Does she look bothered?”
No, and I hate it. She looks like her worries have melted away in a way I can’t do for her because I come with tabloids and baggage and a curse that prevents me from really feeling for someone.
Sharkie spins Carissa right into Bean’s arms as he steals the dance, and I feel like I’m watching something designed to poke at all my sore spots. These are good guys, and they’re apparently not even drunk like I expected. They’re just having a good time and enjoying the chance to experience Carissa’s warmth up close.
I can’t have any objections except my own selfish wants, and I don’t deserve those wants in the first place because I spent a whole week ignoring her. But that doesn’t make me want her any less.
Cursing under my breath, I push up to my feet and walk toward the guys before I can talk myself out of it.
Tink notices me first, and his jaw drops as soon as he realizes it’s me. “What areyoudoing here?“ His question comes during a break in the overhead music, which means everyone hears it and looks our way.
Instinct tells me to scowl at their shocked looks, but I force my expression to stay neutral. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” I say and nod at Bean, who stands stiff with Carissa still in his arms. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”
Bean narrows his eyes. “What are you trying to—“
“He has four younger sisters!” Carissa says, cutting off the angry question. “Apparently they all use him to practice dancing before school dances.”
Matching her smile is easy, even with my confused teammates staring at me. I talk to Bean, but I can’t pull my eyes from Carissa and the way she looks overjoyed that I came tonight. “That’s really cool of you, Bean. I always wanted a sister, but my dad never remarried after my mom died.”
Whispers break out among the Thunder, and I do my best to ignore them. I don’t know why I picked the guy who hates me more than most, but now that I’ve started, I need to keep pushing forward.
“Does your family live here in LA?” I ask.
