Page 72 of A Game of Ruck

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She smirks.“Then why are you wearing that cute-as-fuck dress?”

“It’s ninety degrees outside,” I say, flustered.“I didn’t want to wear anything, but society frowns on nudity.”

“Sure, babe.Totally believe you,” she teases.“Just like I believe you didn’t check three times to make sure your hair had that perfect effortless beachy wave.”

“Okay.Fine.Maybe I want to look good.”

“You already do,” she says, giving me a once-over.“But more importantly, you need to be brave.Go see him.Talk to him.Tell him the truth.”

I nod slowly.“Yeah.I’m going to.I owe him an apology.And the truth.”

Daniela grins.“Good.Now go get your rugby god.”

Chapter Eighteen-Annabeth

It’smy first time watching professional rugby and I’m blown away by everything.

But mostly by him.

Luca Warden.

Crowd favorite.

Starting forward.

Owner of my foolish heart.

The match is chaos.

Beautiful.Violent.Unrelenting chaos.

I have never ever seen anything like it.

Giant men crash into each other like freight trains.

There’s mud, sweat, blood, and shouting.

The ref barely keeps control.And right in the thick of it is Luca.

My Luca.

I can’t help it now.It’s how I think of him, and he is sublime.

A beast in motion.

A warrior.

A fucking god.

Rugby doesn’t even resemble American football.Not really.

There’s barely any padding.No helmets.No timeouts every few seconds.Just continuous, raw, intense action.

And the ball?It’s not even shaped like a regular football.It’s like… an angry egg.

An angry egg of chaos.

The game is fast.

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