Page 13 of Your Second Chance
Clive snorted, his laughter tapering off, while Luna pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded. She didn’t push it any further, and the three of us walked the rest of the way home in silence.
My mind wasn’t silent. It was a mess. A hurricane of Ollie’s words, the heat of his gaze, and the gnawing frustration of knowing this was too much—too messy, too complicated, too dangerous. And yet, my body didn’t seem to care.
Damn hormones.
5
ollie
Over a month into the season, and it had been as long since I’d last laid eyes on Nova. I probably—no, definitely—fucked up when I came onto her too strong in the pub. Hell, my fuck up started when I spent an entire weekend going to as many different pubs in Richmond as I could, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of her again.
Here I was, a month and some change later, and she’d been a ghost. A beautiful, infuriating ghost that haunted every corner of my thoughts.
This was why I didn’t date. It was always messy and complicated. She’d reminded me why I’d set those boundaries. She was bold, chaotic, and far too tempting. I knew better than to let myself get pulled into something I couldn’t control.
And yet, even without seeing her, she waseverywhere.
Her name came up constantly. She stole my players for her campaigns when I needed them on the pitch. She was all over the internet, her marketing schemes lighting up every social platform. There was one viral video in particular... ofme.
I should’ve ignored it, just like I ignored most of what popped up online. But curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked. It was a clip of me standing on the training grounds, drenched in sweat,tattoos visible beneath the sleeves of my rugby shirt, looking smug as hell. The camera panned slowly, zooming in on the sweat dripping down my face. She was clearly far away, hidden behind the camera or tucked away in some office, since I never actually saw her.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, just another promotional video. But the comments.The comments.
I shouldn’t have read them. I really shouldn’t have.
Women were practically losing their minds. Things like, “I suddenly understand rugby,” “Who gave him the right to look like that?” and “Sweat never looked so good.” There were thirstier ones too, things I wouldn’t have expected to read about myself, even in my playing days.
I tried to ignore them, but Will saw the video and presumably so did my players.
One morning, I walked into the changing room to find the walls plastered withprintedscreenshots of the comments. Will had taken it upon himself to turn it into a joke, a team-wide roast. The lads had a field day, laughing their arses off while I tried to act like it didn’t bother me.
It did, though. Not because of the video or even the comments, but because it was Nova’s doing.Shehad orchestrated it. She’d turned me into her latest viral sensation without me even realizing it.
Despite the embarrassment, I admired her. Nova had this way of leaving her mark wherever she went—quietly, unapologetically, and completely. Even if I hadn’t seen her, she’d managed to work her way under my skin, leaving me restless and wanting.
It was ridiculous. She was too complicated, and I was better off staying away. But damn if she wasn’t the most intriguing person I’d crossed paths with in years.
The team was mid-drill, running a split training focused on offensive and defensive coordination.
“Keep the line tight,” I shouted, clapping my hands as the defense scrambled to hold their shape. “No gaps. If you leave a hole, they’ll exploit it.”
The offensive side passed quickly, weaving through the cones in a classic one-two setup, trying to break the defensive line. I barked corrections as they moved, my eyes sharp on the pitch.
“Quicker on the offload, Sam. And Luke, stay on your man—you’re drifting too wide.”
My attention kept flicking toward the sidelines, where I spotted Nova. She was standing near the entrance to the changing rooms, laughing with Peter, her head tilted back slightly.
The sound carried faintly across the pitch, and I froze for half a second before snapping myself out of it. “Alright, bring it in,” I called to the team, waving them over. “We’ll finish up with some sprints. Go hard for the last fifteen.”
While the players groaned and lined up for their runs, I jogged toward the sidelines. Nova was still there, walking alongside Peter as they headed back toward the changing rooms.
She looked healthier than the last time I’d seen her. Still a little tired, sure, but not as pale or withdrawn. Her curls were down, wild around her face, and her plump lips curved into a faint smile that almost, but not quite, seemed genuine.
She was covered up in a long shirt and pants, hiding her tattoos—a shame, really. Even so, she looked stunning in that effortless way that made it impossible not to notice her.
“Nova,” I shouted, picking up my pace.
She stopped, glancing back at me, and so did Peter.
