Page 79 of The Thing About My Rival

“As for your brother,” Tom says, staying on track. “Isn’t your relationship with him fragile enough without you acting like he’s not capable of organizing his own house move?”

A shiny silver blade twists in my guts. “So you’re saying I ruin everything?”

Tom sighs, flops back, and folds his arms. “Sure. Yeah. That’s right. I’ve dropped in out of the blue to see a total asshole who irritates the crap out of me.” He shakes his head. “Of course that’s not what I’m saying, you idiot. I’m saying that sometimes people need to be given a chance to sort out their own shit. The time and space to figure out how to deal with things for themselves.”

“But I only get involved when I know I can improve things. I don’t meddle with stuff I don’t know anything about. Like getting grass stains out of white shorts, I leave that to the laundry crew. Or how to recover after a ruptured Achilles, I don’t interfere with the physiotherapy team. Are you saying I should stay out ofeverything? Even if I can help? Even if I can deal with it better?”

“In Drew’s case, maybeespeciallyif you can deal with it better.”

I’m now like a sack of potatoes, but without the sack. I’m basically just potatoes spilling off this chair, bouncing around all over the floor of the owners’ box and rolling to the lowest level they can find.

I slump forward and play with my bottle, tearing a thin strip off the edge of the label where it’s not stuck down properly.

“She’s cool.” The words come out low and quiet. And schoolboyishly reluctant.

It’s hard to admit. Out loud anyway. Inside, I’ve known she was special since that first day when she was unpacking stuff onto her shelves and said I obviously needed the job. She saw through me immediately. She got me.

“You sure seem fond of her,” Tom says. “I’ve not seen you like this before.”

“Like what?”

“This.” He gestures to my slumped, sagging form. “Is it because for the first time in your life a woman’s rejected you?”

“She didn’t reject me. She just said it was all a bit much.”

“And that’s a fair point. There is a lot going on here. A lot at play. And a lot at stake.”

“I know. I know I never should have touched her. But I couldn’t help myself. She got me all…I don’t know.” I press my fingers against my temples and screw up my eyes. “She got all up inside my head, I guess.”

“Wow. So it’s not just your pants department that gotinvolved. It’s your brain department too.” Tom blows out a long whistle. “That’s a first.”

I let my hands fall into my lap and my head drops back on a long groan that vibrates my whole frustrated body.

“So why would you make a move on her when you were already in such a difficult, weird-ass situation and risk ruining your comeback?”

“Because she’s different.”

“Go on.”

I take a long draw on my beer. How do I sum up Wilcox’s total fucking awesomeness?

“Her focus is never on anything to do with herself. Not on how she looks, not on living somewhere flash, not on her own accolades or press coverage. She’s all about the job, and all about other people.”

“You mean you met a good person and actually recognized how good she is. Wow.” He makes a brain exploding gesture.

“Yeah, yeah. Take the piss all you like. Thing is, she works fucking hard to make the players the best they can beandto make them happy.” I rest my forearms on the table and lean forward. “And I’d always thought those two things were mutually exclusive.”

“She sounds pretty awesome.”

“And”—I slap the table—“she can spot a team’s hidden weaknesses on the first watch of a video. Thefirst. It takes me two or three.”

“Impressive,” he says.

“And if I asked her right now, she could give us a two-hour lecture on the offside rule, the nuances of it, and how to avoid it right off the top of her head.”

She’s also the first woman who’s ever made my heart do that new skippety-skip-skip thing every time I see her,but I’ll leave that bit out, lest he thinks I’ve lost it completely.

“The perfect package,” Tom says. “Smart. Loves footy.Knowsfooty. Doesn’t take your crap. Is attractive. Aaand…?”

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