Page 10 of Arrogant Rucking Player

But right now couldn’t be the time to focus on the woman who had held my attention over the past weeks while I wished she stood before me instead of her ex-husband or whoever in the hell this man was to her.

“Are you okay this afternoon?” I asked Brady casually, like I did at the end of most sessions. Only this time I word my sentences a little more carefully.

The hell are you doing, getting involved in someone’s family?But I knew what I was doing, and why. Because this kid was my responsibility until he left this field. If he didn’t feel safe, he wasn’t leaving with someone he didn’t trust at all.

No matter who that might be.

“I had fun today, Mace,” Brady said in that still muted voice that sounded nothing like the kid I coached.

I gritted my teeth. “Yeah? You did well. Are you good to practise those drills or do you need to grab any kit from my Coach before he leaves?”

I raised a hand and waved over my head, knowing Leon would be watching the exchange, too. Both of us had a radar for this sort of bullshit and any predatory behaviours. He could wipe the floor with my ass later for getting involved when I should back the hell up, but I couldn’t force my feet to move away.

Stuart cleared his throat pointedly.

“Nah, I’m good. It’s Stuart’s day to take me home.” Brady puffed out a breath. His fringe fell over his eyes, obscuring his face.

“Dad,” Stuart corrected his son.

Brady didn’t say anything.

I nodded when he didn’t step away, either, or produce any sort of protest, at a bit of a loss on where to go with this.Stay the hell out of family shit that’s not your problem. The voice in the back of my head snarked away at me, unfettered. But my stomach hit ground zero in a full body gravity slam that left me nauseated at leaving Brady alone.

“Alright,” I said softly. Brady peered at me through his hair, and I swore my heart broke on the gravel beneath my feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ve got some new drills to work on and the Granny Grapple.” I didn’t have anything new planned, and I’d be hungover as fuck but I’d make something up just to keep my word.

“See you.” Brady tramped away from me through the car park, heading for the only sports car left in the entire lot.

I smiled and waved when he turned back with a half-hearted grin and didn’t feel any of it. Nor did Coach’s huff behind me sting, knowing it would cost me an extra leg day or other punishment session of my own because he watched the whole event unfold. I’d have to fess my ass up because lying to the man was the worst idea I’d had all day.

But his words jarred me back into reality.

“You have a heart, Mace,” he muttered.

“Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows, watching the sports car bunny hop its way out of the parking lot.He can’t drive for shit, either.

Some part of me loved knowing that Stuart had extra flaws. The other half of me instantly worried for Brady’s safety.

“Yeah.” Leon coughed into his fist. “Just make sure you find the line of where to stop, and know where your involvement needs to end. Don’t go too far and you’ll be fine.” His voice cracked at the end of his mini speech, and he coughed into his fist a second time.

I pivoted on my heel to face him. “Is that why you never let anyone in, never get close? Because you got involved one time?”

He sent me a crooked smile. “You just earned yourself two sets of Tour de Stade, my friend. Starting tomorrow morning before your clinic. See you bright and motherfucking early.”

I clenched my teeth and smiled through the pain I could already feel radiating through my thighs at the concept of running the stadium stairs twice in any short period, even when I knew he’d rest me, though the kids wouldn’t. “Sparrowfart it is.”

So much for getting in that nap.

CHAPTER FIVE

NYLA

My antlers insisted on slipping over my face for the past hour. Wearing my hair out tonight had been a mistake.

Sweat rolled down my back under the blanket my hair formed in a packed restaurant that offered no reprieve or breath of air whatsoever with a broken air conditioner in sweltering December. The antlers and hair weren't tonight’s only error. So was the polyester reindeer costume.

The tights itched with every step and the dress sat way too short for the football team who whistled each time I went up the stairs to the mezzanine level to serve them along with my troupe of reindeer servers who followed me around like we were ready to haul the sleigh for the night.

Only, I hadn't spotted Mason flirting along with the rest of his team mates no matter how hard I searched for him. Twice I checked the booking to make sure I had the right team, but from the matching ink several of the oversized boys were more than happy to show off to my girls—who I had to drag away to wait their tables—I was pretty sure I had the right club.

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