Page 60 of Playing Rucking Hard

“I need more time to think about it. If you want me to sell it to management, I need to think it through.”

“Please don’t tell anyone, and I mean not even telling Cooper, until she’s protected.”

“Dylan, I don’t know how I’m going to protect either of you if this breaks before we’re ready.”

I know when a conversation has gone as far as it can go. “Thanks, Kenz. Enjoy the coffee.”

On a high from my impromptu meeting with Kenzie, I forget to take my normal precautions before heading into the cheerleaders’ locker room.

I don’t ask maintenance about their training schedule. I don’t find a cleaner to do a sweep of the room, first. I don’t do any of the things that have kept Emma and me safe and under wraps for these last weeks.

Patting my latest swan note that’s carefully folded in my shorts pocket, I saunter into the locker room as if I own the place. In the same way a man with a clipboard can talk himself into any room in the movies, I assume a sports jock walking through a training facility has the same immunity.

“Mr. Fleski.”

I freeze. One hand is holding Emma’s latest dragon note left for me, while the other almost placed the swan on her shelf next to the others. The female voice holds no smile or warm greeting. I turn and shuffle to the side, stuffing both notes in my pockets and assuming no one can force me to play show and tell.

But the other swans are up there.

“Mr. Fleski, are you lost?” Kareene or Karina—the cheerleader’s head choreographer stands between me and escape, her arms crossed and eyes flashing with anger. Her hatred of all rugby league players is well known amongst the players. We don’t know if it’s the hatred of a woman scorned, or whether she bats for the other team. Best case is if she’s just a protective mother bear and doesn’t want us evil spawn to hurt her cubs.

“No, ma’am.” Being polite and respectful usually gets me out of trouble, especially when delivered with myyou know you want mesmile.

“Mr. Fleski, this is the locker room for cheerleaders. Have you changed professions? Have you been assigned to my team?”

“No, ma’am, and no ma’am.”

“Do you think that calling mema’ammakes you likeable?”

“Yes … I mean, no.” Fuck. We can both hear the growing chatter of female voices. Shit. Damn. Fuck. The cheerleaders willbe here any second, and I can’t be standing this close to Emma’s locker. I shuffle again, before walking towards Kareena from a different direction, hoping to throw her off my target. “I know I shouldn’t be in here, and I apologize. It won’t happen again.” I rush the words, needing to put as much space between me and this room as I can before Emma’s colleagues arrive. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Is that all it takes? A pretty boy footballer says, ‘sorry’, and all is forgiven?” Kareene steps closer. “What did you put in your pocket? Did you steal from one of my cheerleaders?”

I have no words. Any excuse will break down under interrogation. There’s only one way I can get out of here while saving Emma’s job and buying me time to fix whatever I’ve just fucked up.

Standing to my full height, I glare at Kareene as if she’s an opponent on the field, instead of a five-foot-nine dancer. “I’ve apologized. You can either accept it won’t happen again, or don’t.” I spit out the words as if I don’t care either way. “I’m outa here.”

I go to walk around her, and thankfully, she doesn’t try to block my way. I stride purposefully down corridors until I get to the player locker rooms and quickly get into my gym gear before deciding there’s no reason to put in an extra session. First, I’m not in the mood for the normal gym banter of my team, and secondly, why make it easy for the suits or Coach to find me? No. I need an air gap between me and this place until I figure out what Kareena’s gonna do with her news. I grab my bag, cell, car keys, and go the long way through the building until reaching the far end of the car park. By the time I unlock my car, my cell is blowing up.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Me to Emma:Swan delivery interrupted by Kareene.

Me: Don’t say anything. Don’t admit to anything. If asked, you don’t know why I was there and you hope they get to the bottom of it.

Me:I fucked up and I’m sorry. This won’t come back on you, I promise.

Me:Delete all messages from me. Delete my contact.

Me:I’m so sorry

Fuck

Kenzie: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO??????

Kenzie: You should have trusted me

Kenzie:You should have waited until I had conversations before trying to approach the person we were talking about

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