Page 122 of Unwritten Rules
Releasing my hold on him, I step back, staring at him with a deadpan expression. “Dad, you shouldn’t threaten to hurt one of your players.”
“I wouldn’t actually hurt him…”
Liar.
I roll my eyes. “Just trust me, okay? I’ve got this.”
“I know,” he murmurs, eyes searching my face. “Your Mum raised you to know what you want, so I have no doubt you know what you’re doing. I might not agree with it one hundred percent, but I’m willing to try and understand, if that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I say, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you.”
Dad stands from the chair and busies himself with shuffling the papers in front of the keyboard. “And for the love of God, can you come back to the club? The guys are falling apart without you.”
I snort a laugh. “Now that I believe.”
Dad laughs along with me, straightening his spine. “They’ll be happy to have you back.”
The overwhelming urge to cry has a lump forming in my throat. This conversation has been a rollercoaster ride, and now that I’m off, my emotions are creeping up on me.
I manage a smile. “I can’t wait.”
“And your mum would be proud of you.”
Tears brim in the corner of my eyes. “I hope so.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
SINNETT
“This feels weird.”
Tatum turns her head, jade eyes roaming over the side of my face. “How so?”
I squeeze her small hand resting in mine, eyes locked on the sunlight streaming through the thick foliage of the oak tree. “For the first time in weeks we don’t have to sneak around or hide out in the confides of my car. We’re able to just… be us. It’s strange.”
She laughs, the sound sweet and airy. My fucking favourite.
“I agree. I almost texted Dad to say I was hanging out with Raya until I remembered that he knows about us.”
Us.
It still feels like a foreign concept despite knowing it’s not.
Not having to hide our relationship from Phil or the media is something I’m still getting used to.
When Tatum called me on Monday to tell me how the conversation with her dad went, I was expecting tears and a podcast length rant about how angry and upset she was. So imagine my surprise when I answered her call and she was as happy as a clam, retelling the details of the conversation with an ease and calmness that was unnerving.
Three days later and I’m still wondering how the fuck Phil is okay with me dating his daughter.
But I’m not complaining one bit.
My cheek meets the picnic blanket, eyes locked on Tatum’s. I get lost in them, wondering how the fuck I got as lucky as I did. Meeting her that night at the pub was the start of my life. Before her, my world revolved around rugby. I knew what I wanted and I was willing to do anything to get it, no matter what. It didn’t seem possible to allow anyone else into my space, not sure if there was room for them in my carefully laid out plans. But I was wrong. So fucking wrong.
Tatum is the best rule I could’ve broken. If I hadn’t, I never would’ve learned what it means to truly live. To appreciate the value in the finer things and feel every second of the big moments.
“He’s been giving me a lot of shit at training the past couple of days. It’s like he wants to punish me for betraying him but is also trying to respect what you want. I can see it’s slowly killing him on the inside.”
I can handle the tough training drills and him pushing me harder in the gym than necessary. He has gone from giving me the cold shoulder to a slightly frosty presence, which is better than nothing. At this point, I’ll take whatever he’s willing to give me. It’s going to take some time to gain back his trust, but I’m willing to do it if it makes Tatum happy and my life a little easier. Because fuck me, my body is aching today.
