Page 35 of The Underdog

I break free from my thoughts as I’m reminded of Wilks's playful nature as he waits patiently for my response. “And let me guess,” I smirk as I fold my arms across my chest. “You were the one who granted them that title?”

“But of course.” Wilks cockily puffs out his chest. “After all, I do have the best taste in the country!”

“Oh shut up, boyo,” a few of the lads call him out, smacking him in the back of the head as they groan in disgust.

“Can you get on with the point here?” Hart speaks up from the back of the group. “You haven’t even told her the rules yet!”

“Rules?” The word piques my interest as I meet Wilks’ eyes with intent. “What do you mean,rules?”

We continue for another few strides until Wilks brings the group to a halt outside of Tenners. It’s an old bar with a flickering light sign and what appears to be an already packed interior.

“The lads and I were chatting back in the changing room, and since this is your first time here, we thought we’d break down some rules.”

“Which are?” I waste no time attempting to get straight to the point.

“Well, rule number one.” Green appears from behind me. “Be careful who you're talking to.”

Green’s rule receives a universal head nod from everyone in the group but me. I hate being told what to do.

“What?” I can’t help but dispute his request, a sense of annoyance in my voice. “Why?”

“Listen, babe.” Hart leans in. “If the lads in here get one wind of your accent, they’ll be all over you tonight.”

“So what?” I’m beginning to lose my patience. “Do you expect me not to speak or, worse, put on a fake accent?”

“No, no!” Wilks raises his hands in defense. “Not at all, and good luck to us if we tried to stop you from speaking.” He laughs, nudging my shoulder. “I suppose what we’re trying to say is, stick with us. Don’t want any randos coming after our girl.”

I release a breath, softened by his words and their willingness to look out for me. “Fine,” I stubbornly agree. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Oh, rule number two,” I hear someone call out, “If Dodgy offers you a drink, don’t take it.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a good one mate.” Wilks nods his head, agreeing with the next rule. “I didn’t even think about that one.”

“Did you sayDodgy?” I question. I’ve come to learn that everyone around here is granted a nickname. But Dodgy? “Who the hell is Dodgy?”

“Hey! Quiet your voice, Delaney.” Green places a calloused finger against my lips. “We don’t want Dodgy to hear you?—”

“What the hell are you lot on about?” Warren catches us all off guard with the sternness of his voice—myself included as I stumble backward, and can’t help but notice that his eyes are fixated on Green’s touch against my skin, an action he immediately revokes.

“Oh, just warning Laney about Dodgy, that’s all, Coach.” Green looks at me for assurance, his hands now behind his back. “Right?”

I nod, meeting Warren’s gaze.

I’m reveled by the fact that, for once, he’s dressed down a step. I hadn’t realized Warren owned any articles of clothing that weren’t button-downs, blazers, and dress pants. Yet, as I stare at him up and down, I realize that he’s stood in a knit sweater and jeans paired with a jacket.

Seeing him this way feels intimate—like something I shouldn't have been privy to, but am so thankful I do, even despite how awkward this tension is between the two of us.

I’m silent. I don’t even think I can hear myself breathing…maybe because I’m not. Being caught up in his burning gaze makes it virtually impossible to process a single thought.

A visibly unamused Warren rolls his eyes, looking me directly in the eyes as he speaks. “Dodgy is harmless,” he admits. “He’s a sixty-eight-year-old man who hardly knows what day it is.”

The faintest bit of laughter from the group releases some pressure from the conversation.

“Then why do you call him Dodgy?” I direct my attention towards the rest of the boys, although it’s Warren’s response I want to hear the most.

“We call him Dodgy because we dodge him at all costs.” Warren reaches for the front door, swinging it open. “But listen, you tell me if he, or anyone else is bothering you, alright?”

He carefully scans me up and down, waiting for my response. I hadn’t realized I’d be stuck in place as I try to swallow this lump in my throat.

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