Page 36 of The Player in New Zealand
That earned me an eye roll. “No.”
“Well, then, you, sir, must be a pretty big fucking deal.”
“Every rugby player for New Zealand is in it, Claire.”
“Oh. So it’s not like a hall of fame?”
“Nah. Just about the game.”
“Have you visited? As a tourist, I mean.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Tane gave me side-eye. “You really just needed a power nap, didn’t ya? Made you chatty.”
“Better than mainlining coffee,” I said, nodding toward his giant empty travel mug sitting between us.
“How’d a morning person like you end up working at a bar, then?”
“Necessity. You make good money working at bars. Especially girls,” I said. Especially girls like me. Pretty enough to draw attention and get good tips.
He grunted.
“What about you? Why did you play rugby?”
He sighed and pushed his head back into the headrest. “The usual reasons: money, fame, girls. I was good at it.”
The unspoken end hovered above our heads.But I’m not good at it now.
Instead of lamenting his forced hand, he changed the subject. “What’s the story behind the tattoo on the back of your neck?”
“Oh.” Self-consciously, I moved my hand back to cover the tattoo. “It’s an icosahedron, a D20 dice.”
“Yes, I am familiar with it.”
“You are?” I said, surprised.
He snorted. “We have Dungeons & Dragons here, you know.”
“Right, well. That’s why I have it.”
“Do you play?”
“Not anymore. I got the tattoo when I turned eighteen and I still played with my friends.”
“But you used to?”
“Yeah.” A thought occurred to me. “Should I cover up my tattoo for the wedding? I can go get some concealer in Auckland tomorrow.”
At that, Tane laughed. “Woman, look at me. My whole family is tattooed just as much as I am. Well, most of them,” he amended. “You’ll be fine.”
“Your tattoos are mostly hidden. If I had long hair, no one could see it, but it’ll be on display in my dress.”
“Don’t worry about it. A few of my family even havemoko kauae—traditional face tattoos,” he filled in at my questioning glance. “Your D20 is fine.”
“Good.”
