Chapter 22

Gage

The thing about footy was it’s supposed to be one lot of men trying to get the ball through the goal posts while the opposing team tries to do the exact same thing at the other end of the oval, but most of the time, it was just an opportunity to let off some steam.

And my opportunity just walked on the pitch.

Usually Finn met us with a ready grin and a few shitty jokes. Going to training was a relief for him, he said, getting him out of the house and away from his wife and kids for a little while. Like a lot of Australian blokes, he was full of shit. He’d lay down his life for Cheryl and his son and daughter, but it wasn’t cool to admit that, so instead, he blustered about being around ‘the boys’ like it was some kind of special thing.

But there was nothing good natured about him right now.

He stared flatly at Connor, then Van, and finally me, the thin line of his lips making clear how he felt. That was just fine. Australian Rules Football wasn’t anywhere near as tackle focussed as rugby, but it could be. I cracked my knuckles slowly, staring steadily back at Finn.

“Right, fellas,” Phil, our coach, said, “a couple of laps around the oval.” He was met by a few low groans. “Get all your muscles warmed up. Off you go.”

At the blow of his whistle, I was off. Coaches when we were at school fucking loved me, seeing my size and thinking I’d be perfect for taking out opposing players, then were pleasantly surprised when they saw how fast I could move. Running was just the fucking thing right now, all the adrenaline in my body having somewhere to go. Because all I wanted to do was run back to her, shove the door open and storm in, backing Kendall against the wall right before my mouth—

“Bit fucking slow, aren’t ya, mate?” Finn’s snarky comment cut through my very pleasant mental image, right as he pulled out in front of me. “That’s what happens when you settle down with a chick.”

“Kendall’s not some chick, you fuckhead, and what about you and Cheryl?”

Van appeared at my shoulder, legs and arms pumping as he strove to overtake Finn.

“I don’t share my wife like a fucking animal,” Finn ground out, locking his jaw shut and putting everything he had into the run. He’d run out of puff before he made it one lap around the oval, the idiot.

“But you wanted to.”

I saw the flash of pure fury in Finn’s eyes, confirming something I’d always suspected, right as I sailed past him. Running like this was nothing to me. I went for long runs most afternoons just to get the shit of work out of my head, but every thud of my feet, every stride of my legs, felt buoyed up somehow.

We were finally gonna tell Kendall how we felt, and there was nothing Finn could do about it.

I clocked one lap, then another, the coach nodding to me as I passed. Sure enough, Finn had to beg off, walking around in circles as he strove to catch his breath. I just smiled at him as I ran past a second time, and when I finished the last lap, I was breathing just fine.

“All right, we’ve got that game on Saturday, and you know that the Demons are bastards on the field,” Phil told us. “We need to tighten up our kicking and our passing game. Grab the balls.” He opened a net bag and tipped all of the balls out on the grass. “And a partner. We’ll do a bit of kick to kick. You fellas need to be grabbing those balls out of the air…”

This was the moment when Connor would team up with Finn and I’d do the same with Van, but when I grabbed a ball, I tossed it in the air and caught it before turning to Finn.

“Reckon you can grab my balls out of the air?” I asked, shooting him just the kind of shit-eating grin that was guaranteed to get his knickers in a twist.

“I reckon I can grab your balls and shove ’em down your throat.”

That was classic Finn. Up and in my face without a thought, always turning on anything that pissed him off with a growl. Most of the time, we didn’t let him deal with suppliers after some had stopped doing business with us due to his shitty attitude, but we knew how to handle him.

“Like to see you try.”

I jogged off to the other side of the oval without waiting for a response from him and didn’t even bother to stop before turning and booting the ball his way. That look on his face—eyes going wide then narrowing in anger—as he ran forward, arms outstretched, determined to catch the damn ball or die trying, that was what was needed. He needed to get his eye on the ball, literally and figuratively.

The days of needing to protect Kendall from other guys was over. He hadn’t been doing a very good job in the time between school and now anyway, and we were about to take over. He kicked the ball my way, aiming it high and with undue power, but I just watched it spiral end over end before running forward. My arms were out, ready to catch it, not able to focus on anything else before it safely landed in my arms. I grinned, knowing it’d feel so much better when I did the same with Kendall.

How would she respond? I tried not to think too hard on that as I kicked the ball back down the oval, not even looking to see if Finn caught it. I couldn’t focus on him, just his sister. The ball was sent right back again and I ran forward, snatching it from the air and then twisting to kick it back. I didn’t want to have to consider the possibility that she might reject the lot of us. If I fixed her car. If the guys built that bed frame. Maybe if I got her cooking again. So many possibilities, things that might help or hinder our cause, but I couldn’t focus on any of them, just this.

Moving my body, using all my strength to achieve the goals I set for it and hoping. That the ball would fly true, that my body would be positioned right under it as it came crashing down. That Kendall would look past all the stupid shit and see this.

The sun was setting, turning the whole oval gold, and that felt right. I grinned then, just feeling it. I fucking loved Kendall Kennedy. She was the only woman I’d ever felt anything more than a twinge for, and she was home right now in my house. I just needed to get her into my bed, then I’d work my way into her heart, I was sure of it, so when the whistle blew and Phil waved us in, I went willingly.

“Nice kick, dickhead,” Finn grumbled. “You nearly took my head off.”

“Don’t fumble the fucking ball and it won’t,” I shot back.

He whirled around, tension vibrating through his body as he turned to face me.

“I didn’t fucking fumble—”

I matched his energy, getting right up in his face.

“You always do. Got sexy fingers, don’t ya? Fucking everything up.”

“And what’re your fingers doing?” His hands slammed against my chest, but I wasn’t going anywhere, and that just made him madder. “Touching my sister—”

I grabbed his hands, ground the fingers together for good measure, before knocking them away.

“I’ll use these hands to do whatever the fuck your sister wants.” His eyebrows jerked down as I wiggled my fingers at him, steam almost coming out of his nose as his whole body coiled, ready to launch it at me. But I knew exactly what it would take to cut his knees out from under him, so I did just that. “Because I fucking love her.”

“What?” Sure enough, the prick stopped, staggered forward slightly, and then corrected himself. “You what?”

“I’m in love with Kendall.” God, how good it felt to finally say that out loud. “I always have been.”

“No you haven’t. No… No…”

He was shaking his head like a dog with fleas, but we kept going.

“We all are.” Connor came to stand beside me. “You warned us off as kids, but the minute she graduated from school, we intended to see if she was open to something with us.”

“Us? All of you?”

Finn stared at Van, almost begging him to contradict what we’d been saying, but that was never going to happen. Van crossed his arms and stared Finn down.

“All of us. We fought about it plenty when we all realised we were crushing on Kendall, but it seemed like this was the only solution. It was either break up the friendship, or we’d do this together.”

“But what about me…?”

We’d shared girls back at school, and Finn liked that just fine. So much so, we were pretty sure he was feeling us out when he started things with Cheryl, but his girl was not ours. We’d known it then, just like we did now, and so that thought never got voiced.

“Well, you’re a bit fucking hairy for me.”

Van’s lips twitched, wanting to form a smile, a battle he quickly lost.

“Yeah, and the whole dick and balls thing is a bit off putting if I have to be honest,” he added.

“There’s also the fact you can’t aim to save your life,” Connor drawled. “Like do we need to put fur on the toilet seat so you can aim right?”

“You fucking…” He wanted to be angry, to push back, to stop everything we just talked about, but Finn found himself grinning despite himself. I watched him shake his head then straighten up. “If you bloody hurt her—”

“Like you did?” I cocked an eyebrow, reminding him of all the bullshit he’d pulled on Kendall. “That’s just it, dickhead. We never really wanted to hurt her back then, and we sure as shit don’t want to now. Shit.” I stepped closer, getting in his space but with less aggressive intent this time. “If we do hurt her, you can kick my arse.” I tapped a finger on my chin. “I’ll let you get the first hit in for free.”

“Let me…” He gave me a shove, but it was the friendly kind, because straight men aren’t allowed to touch each other with anything other than violence. His arm went around my neck, and he tightened his grip, trying to cut off my airflow. I just elbowed the prick in the ribs, the oof of breath escaping him music to my ears. “Jesus, so does Ken know?”

“Tonight,” I said, as we came to stand before our coach. “She’ll know tonight.”