Page 9 of Thunderstruck
Carissa perks up, almost bouncing on her toes. “You’re friends with Bonnie Aiken? Oh, I love her! And Hank too. Aren’t they just the cutest?”
“The cutest,” I repeat dumbly. Though, it’s kind of true. Hank was practically made for Bonnie, and Bonnie’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. Especially now that Hank is moving to Los Angeles so they can stop commuting back and forth from Colorado and California to see each other.
They made long distance work. Why couldn’t Sage and I do the same? I know two months and two years are very different time frames, but Hank is giving up his whole life to come here. Sage never once considered the idea, not even when she told me how much she missed me. My necessary change in career didn’t give her any reasons to come with me.
She might have if you were playing hockey instead of rugby.
I clear my throat, forcing away that ridiculous thought. Why do I keep going back to hockey when football is just as popular and a sport that Iactuallyplayed? Maybe because Sage didn’t read many football romances despite football players clearly being her type. There was something about hockey—and the sort of guy often portrayed in those books—that really did it for her…
“Anyway,” I say roughly, “that’s about all there is to show you. We play games most weekends. Half here, half on the road. You’ll probably end up traveling with the team.” Another cost we can’t afford.
“What position do you play?”
Oh good, she wants to make conversation now. The guys have gotten back into running drills, and I should probably be out on the field with them. But I have a feeling Moxie wants me to keep Carissa occupied until I can hand her off to Tamlin again, and he looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying his conversation. I narrow my eyes as I watch him. He’s not just talking. He’s very clearly flirting, and Tamlin is flirting right back.
I grit my teeth. “Scrum-half.”
“That’s a position?”
Turning my eyes back to Carissa, I raise an eyebrow and take her in again. She looks like she would be more at home in a shopping mall than on a pitch, and I have to wonder how she became connected with someone like Tamlin Park, who not only knows her sports inside and out but also probably played something, based on her build.
Holding back a sigh, I try to channel my inner Bonnie and pretend I can make friends with anyone. Liam is even friendlier, but I don’t think anyone can match my musician friend’s level of amicability. He’s a golden retriever in human form. Bonnie is simply kind.
Kind has not come easily for me lately, but I need to try. If I don’t, somehow Freya will find out I was rude to a woman, and I’ll never hear the end of it. Freya of Candora may look like a gentle princess, but she can be terrifying.
I force a smile. “Yeah, it’s a position. I’m guessing you’re new to rugby?”
Carissa shrugs. “The only sport I’ve watched is baseball, and that’s because my sister played.”
“Do you mean softball?”
“That too, but she liked baseball better, which was fine by me because guys are more fun to look at.”
I hate almost everything she just said. “Well,” I say slowly, “there are fifteen players in the type of rugby we play. Eight forwards, seven backs.”
“Is that kind of like soccer?”
Oh, I do not have the patience for this. If Moxie is flirting instead of talking shop, I can probably drop off my charge and get back to practice. “Not really,” I mutter and start walking, praying she follows so I don’t have to force her to come with me.
She keeps up fairly well, though she’s in a light jog instead of walking. “That’s what it looked like, anyway. When I looked it up online. It’s like a mix of soccer and football.”
“It’s like rugby,” I grumble. “Look, I should get back to practice, but I’m sure one of the other guys would be happy to explain it to you.” A little too happy, but that’s not my problem. None of these guys would do anything bad to her, but she’ll have to learn how to deal with them on her own unless she wants them drooling over her all day, every day.
If she’s anything like Sage, she probably does want that.
When we reach Moxie and Tamlin, I clap Moxie on the back and shoot him a look that says he needs to be done. “We’re playing the Warriors on Saturday,” I remind him. “And we have work to do.”
“Right.” His voice is full of disappointment, but he’s smart enough to know he’s our best chance at another win with Coach off in the wind. “Tamlin, it was nice to talk to you.” I wonder if he means that, though I don’t plan on sticking around to find out. I don’t talk to reporters, so it’ll be better if I head back to—
“Hey, Evanson.” Tamlin’s voice pulls me to a sudden halt, though I wish it didn’t. “Any chance of a chat?”
I look back at her and study her amused expression. This is only my second season of pro rugby, and so far I’ve managed to avoid any interviews since joining the Thunder. But Tamlin has been the mostpersistent, reaching out every couple of months in the hopes of getting an exclusive. I talked to her once when I was playing for the Badgers, and though we lost the Super Bowl that night, she chose to talk to me after the game rather than to the quarterback from the winning team. She seems to think there’s a story to tell now as well.
There’s not, but I would still rather not talk to her. “There’s nothing to chat about,” I say, trying to keep my frustration out of my voice.
Tamlin’s smile shifts, turning dangerous. “You and I both know that isn’t true, Cole. A prime athlete like you doesn’t leave a game at the height of his career to play a sport that doesn’t have nearly the same popularity just for kicks. Everyone wants to know why you made the switch.”
Everyone can shove it. That’s what I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut until the anger eases. Maybe Moxie was on to something when he suggested cooling off. “Everyone thinks I was angry that the Badgers lost,” I say with a shrug.
