Page 10 of Playing Rucking Hard

Of all the exit strategies, we agreed Dylan’s had the smarts. Breaking it down, he calls time and then gives her two options to get home. By the time she figures out she’s been managed out of his life, she’s already opening her front door.

Why didn’t he send me home?

Did he feel the same connection I did?

The more I learn, the less I know about Dylan Fleski. At twenty-nine, this is his eleventh year as a professional rugby league player, and the second as a Southern Maverick. Joining the Mavericks put the brakes on his representative career, but this could be his year.

He’s a serial womanizer but treats the cheerleaders with respect. With us, he’s a harmless flirt and apparently, our would-be savior.

Kalli heard him put the big thugs, Bodhi and Loki, in their place. On her way to the bathroom, she heard my name and stopped to eavesdrop. I don’t know how much to believe her, or not, but the way she told us, Dylan called them out for wanting to treat us new cheerleaders as a challenge, and when a fight almost broke out, their captain had to set down the law—no flirting or dating or fucking the cheerleaders.

Then, Nalia had to go and spoil everything by reminding us that no man is worth our job. Yes, they are gorgeous. Yes, we all want to fall in love with Dylan for trying to protect our honor. But at the end of the day, he’s still a man-whore in a Southern Mavericks jersey, and we are contractually obliged not to fraternize with the players.

Except, it’s game day with fans cheering, and he’s on the field looking sexy as fuck, pumped up with acome and fuck with me, I dare yougrin that deserves to be kissed off his face.

No. No. No. I just can’t.

With the game ready to start, we go back to our chairs along the sideline. My mind goes blank as I grab my water bottle and take long gulps. I’d do anything to check my phone for a message from my sister. She’s sitting in the stands, up in the nose-bleed cheap seats with her sitter. Luckily, her sitter’s brother is a huge fan and, in return for my employee home game tickets, he cleaned her car and filled it with gas, so she agreed to come here with Sage for free.

It’s not love that makes the world go round, it’s trading favors. Whatever. This is my big moment, and I’m so glad my sister is here to support me. Is it too much to hope that she’ll dream of watching me tonight instead of reliving the accident?

Is it too much to hope that she tells me I sux and am an embarrassment like she used to do? Is it too much to hope she uses her words to tell me anything at all?

“And that’s the first try of the season to Dawson Briggs,” the emcee calls as the crowd goes wild.

“Guess they’ve decided to give us something to cheer about,” someone sniggers behind me as we stand, turn to entertain the crowd while the try is confirmed, and Kyle sets up to kick the conversion.

Is it unprofessional to want Dylan to watch me?

Chapter 5

First Fight

Dylan

The air is thick with the smell of fresh grass and sweat as the siren signals game on.

The opposition kicks off, the ball traveling deep and heading my way. A reporter once asked if I get nervous under the high bomb. When I answered, “No more than I get nervous when I breathe”, they laughed and used it as clickbait, but it only added to my brand.

I have the safest pair of hands under a spiraling ball coming to earth like a fucking rocket. I don’t care if the opposition is running at me. I trust my team to protect me. My sole job is to catch the ball, protect the ball, and pass it to someone who has the bulk to run at the defensive line if I can’t run through a gap.

See a gap in the field, run at the gap. Don’t see a gap, create the gap.

Rugby league is a simple game played by simple men. Protect the ball like you would a woman. Protect the try line like you would your country.

And if you fuck up the opposition while you’re having fun, thems the breaks.

The cheer squad sit off to the side, ready to come on when we give them something to cheer for. If I have anything to do with it, Emma will be shaking her ass and waving those pom poms for the full eighty minutes.

The team’s fired up, the atmosphere electric, and we play like we’ve been training all off-season, but it’s still hard to keep my head in the game. Every time I glance over, Emma’s eyes are glued to the field. The problem? She’s completely ignoring me.

Like, seriously? I’m the star on the field—at least in my eyes—making runs and pushing off tackles that last year would have me tossed over the sideline like a used tea bag. This year, I’m stronger and faster, and should be the focus of her attention.

Except, when I look her way while jogging back into position or sucking in oxygen, she’s looking anywhere but me.

Hope soars when I catch her gaze for a split second, but she doesn’t even blink. She looks right through me like I’m not even here.

I’ve stopped asking myself the question—is it pride or interest that has my balls on lockdown? I haven’t slept with another woman since Emma. I want to, but my body isn’t in the game. It’s decided that the only woman it wants is the woman whowon’t give me the time of day—not even when it’s her fucking job to cheer for me.

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