Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Storm

Teeth clenched around my mouthguard, I ran a couple of steps and lunged. The winger tried to swerve, but I came at him from an angle, grabbing him in a side tackle and bringing us both down to the ground. The ball slipped out of his grasp and went flying. It was snatched up by the eight man and passed back, down the field.

I rolled over and jumped back to my feet, my concentration not lapsed for a moment.

I lived for days like these. Days when there was nothing else on my mind but the game I loved. Nothing and no one else existed for now. Just the rush of blood through my ears and the men around me.

All I needed was an audience and I'd be in my element.

Willy Jones, known to most of us as Free Willy, caught the ball and bolted, slamming it and himself down beyond the try line, landing clear of the offence's attempted ankle tap.

The coach blew the whistle, calling an end to the training session.

I grunted with annoyance.

When I was in the zone, I hated having to snap out of it. The adrenaline was still thumping through me. It always took time to work its way through my system and out. I didn't want it to. I liked the rush it gave me. It was better than skydiving. Better than anything but sex.

“Hey.” Frost walked alongside me, towards the locker rooms. “We've hit form right on time.”

I glanced over at him before pulling out my mouthguard and shaking off the saliva.

“There's always room for improvement. We can do better than we are. Sloppy ball handling and tackles. Communication.” I shrugged. Too many times, guys missed opportunities they shouldn't. During a game, the opposition would take full advantage. We'd be creamed. Not in the good way.

“I guess,” Frost said in a way that suggested he wasn't paying complete attention to my gripe. Usually he agreed with me.

I glanced over to him. “What's up? Regrets?”

“No,” he said quickly. “The opposite. It's weird to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, big scary feelings,” I said, only half-sarcastic. I wasn't good at talking about those either. Even if those feelings were only arousal. I was in no way ready to talk about relationships or shit like that. We were friends who fucked the same woman, and had kissed. That was all I could get my head around for now.

His jaw tensed. “If that's all you're going to?—”

I stopped and punched him on the arm. “I'm not making fun. It was good. Let's do it again. Okay?”

He stared at me for a while before his jaw relaxed again. “Okay.”

We resumed walking, falling silent for a few moments.

“You're wondering what else?” I asked, continuing to keep it deliberately vague. Dallas was a few metres away, but we were surrounded by a group of other players, including Atlas and Jay. “I don't know what else.”

I caught the look of disappointment on his face and added, “For now. You're usually the one who jumps into things, not me. Don't ask me to decide on something just like that.”

“Right.” He stepped into the locker room first and sat down to pull off his boots.

I sat down beside him. “That wasn't what you wanted to hear.”

He shrugged. “I get it. One day at a time.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “I'm not ruling anything out.” I leaned over, hands on my lace, paused in the middle of untying it. “Like you said, it's weird to talk about.”

'I want to fuck you' weren't words I'd ever said to another man. Thought them? Yes. But where I came from, saying things like that out loud could get you beaten to a pulp. For broaching the subject at all, he was braver than me. His childhood wasn't that different from mine. Small towns and small minds. Nothing better to do than gossip and judge, and raise fists against people who made you uncomfortable. Assholes.

“When you're ready to talk about it, I'm here.” He glanced over at me and offered the faintest smile. One that sent a sliver of heat right to my balls, and threatened to make cracks in my armour.

I couldn't and wouldn't act on that, not here, not today. Part of me hated myself for it. As my father used to say, I was old enough and ugly enough to make my own decisions. I shouldn't be letting other people's bullshit make them for me.

All I could say in response was, “Yeah.”

Fucking coward , I told myself.

“You guys good?” Dallas sat on the other side of Frost.

“Peachy,” Frost said, forcing a smile. “Ready for the season opener.”

Dallas nodded, but clearly knew that wasn't what we were talking about. “We'll kill this season.”

“And if we don't, Chelsea will be there to kiss us better,” Frost said.

Dallas’ eyes immediately darkened at the mention of her.

I thought she was getting under my skin, but it was nothing compared to his reaction to her. He was obsessed with her. Borderline addicted. Hell, maybe not even borderline. I'd seen him out on the paddock, struggling to focus on the game. By the end of the training session, he had his head in the right place, but if he was going to do that during an actual game, we could be in trouble.

I had no idea what the solution to that was. He wasn't going to stop seeing her and the team needed him to play.

The deeper we all got, the more complicated this became. I didn't regret a single second. I hoped he doesn’t give me a reason to.

“Who are you guys talking about?” Atlas stopped in front of us, his customary smirk in place. With his light brown curls and brown eyes with stupidly long lashes, some people might call him attractive. His looks were evenly balanced by being an asshole.

“You,” I shot back. “If any of us are hurt, you'll be there to kiss us better, right?” I made kissing sounds at him.

His smirk became a curled lip of disgust. “Fuck off, Keller. I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last person on the face of the planet.”

“If I was the last person on the face of the planet, you wouldn't be around to kiss me,” I reasoned. “We'd have to be the two last people on the planet.” I gave him a smug smile.

“You're an idiot,” he said. “You know what I meant.”

“Did I?” I said with mock innocence. I turned sideways and glanced at Frost. “Did you know what he meant?”

“I did, but I like your answer better,” Frost said. “I mean, you're not technically incorrect.”

I looked back at Atlas and nodded. “There it is. I'm not wrong.”

“Neither am I,” Atlas said. “You're still an idiot. Who's Chelsea, and does she need me to recommend a good ophthalmologist? If she'd want to kiss any of you, she clearly needs her eyesight tested.”

“You're giving me a headache with your big words.” I rubbed my temples. “Did you eat a thesaurus?”

“No, I got an education,” he retorted. “Something the Sydney Devils appreciate.”

“You're not a Devil anymore,” Frost said. “Maybe they didn't appreciate it enough.”

The look Atlas gave him could have bored a hole right through his forehead.

“He shoots, he scores,” I said. I offered Frost a fist bump.

“Maybe you should lay off,” Dallas said softly. “Changing teams is hard enough without you guys being pricks about it.”

We all gave him a surprised look.

He shrugged at us. “Just saying.”

“I don't need them to be nice,” Atlas said. “Tell Chelsea I said hi.” He turned and walked away.

I resisted the urge to jump to my socked feet and strangle the living shit out of him. If he so much as looked at her the wrong way, I might give in to that urge.

Maybe I should, because sooner or later he'd meet her and that occurrence wasn't without the risk that he'd get sucked into her orbit too. I'd rather face an hour-long session talking about my deepest feelings than consider sharing her with him as well.

“Sometimes, I think it might be better if she didn't end up working here,” Frost said slowly. Reluctantly.

Now it was him I stared at. “What are you talking about?”

“Same question,” Dallas snapped. “You know that's what she wants.” And what he wanted, too. I'd seen him once or twice sneak off for a while and come back looking more satisfied than he had when he left. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he was doing and who he was doing it with. At no time was I jealous; I'd have my time with her later.

“First of all, you might get your shit together better if she wasn't so close,” Frost said to Dallas. “And none of the other guys would get to meet her if she wasn't here.”

“They'd meet her sooner or later,” I said. “We hang out with some of them, sometimes.”

“Yes, but we get to choose who we hang out with,” Frost said. “If we don't invite guys like him, they won't see her in person.”

“We'd need to ban her from coming to any of our games,” I said, slowly cottoning on to what he was saying. “Or make sure she sits where they can't see her.”

“You guys are out of your minds,” Dallas snarled, while still keeping his voice down. “You can't keep her from her job. She'll be furious.”

“She has another job she can go back to,” I said. I didn't like that option either. I preferred it when we weren't sharing her with the gazes of other men.

“No way,” Frost said immediately. “That's out.”

“I agree,” Dallas said, still glowering. “Come up with another solution.” He pushed himself to his feet and stomped away.

“We will,” I said to his back. Even if I had to strangle Atlas for real, I'd keep him from her.

“We’ll figure it out,” Frost said.

I worked my jaw back and forth a couple of times. “Yeah. We have to. I’m not letting anyone fuck this up for us.”

“What are you going to do if Atlas decides he likes me?” Frost asked teasingly.

That was an easy answer. “I’ll rip his nuts off and feed them to him.”

“I’m touched.” Frost grinned.

I gave him a long look. Not yet he wasn’t, but that might change soon.

“I’m hitting the showers.” I tugged off my socks and stood. I had some thinking to do and a date to plan. Something that would bind Chelsea to me forever, mind, body and heart. Not to mention her wrists, preferably to my bed. Maybe I should leave her there. That would solve most of my problems.

Now my balls ached. I might have to pay a visit to the infirmary. For medical reasons, of course.