Page 123 of Unwritten Rules
“That’s his version of trying,” Tatum says, biting back a smile. “He’ll soften towards you, it’ll just take some time.”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m willing to wait.”
Tatum rolls onto her stomach, kicking her feet in the air as her eyes search my face. Tendrils of strawberry-blonde hair frame her face, having fallen from the messy ponytail she threw up in the car before we got to the park.
“What about your dad?” she asks, her voice gentle. “I know things have been… tense the past two weeks.”
I roll my lips together, turning my attention to the brown tinge on the tips of the leaves. With winter in full swing, the vibrant green will soon be swallowed whole by shades of brown.
“I still haven’t spoken to him.”
“Why?”
I exhale a sharp breath and run my free hand down the side of my face, scratching at my chin. “Because no matter what I say, he’s not going to change. He’s always going to put himself in my shoes and try to steer my career toward what he wants. It’s never been about me, only what he wantsmeto achieve forhim. And I’m done with trying to survive in his shadow.”
Tatum’s hand slips from my mine to run through my hair, her eyes watching her movements. “I’m not going to tell you how to handle this because you know your dad better than anyone else, but just know that you’ll feel better once you talk it out. Take it from me.”
“Maybe,” I murmur, eyes fluttering close as her nails glide over my scalp, sending a shudder across my body. “But until then, I’m not going to say a word to him. He can come to me when he’s ready to have a proper conversation about our relationship.”
“That’s your choice, Sin, and I support you.”
I support you.
God, it feels fucking nice to have someone support me and be proud of what I do. Before Tatum, I had no concept of the notion, besides my sister and Gran. But now, she goes out of her way to remind me every chance she gets that she sees me and is willing to be by my side whenever I need her.
I don’t deserve this woman.
Silence befalls us, and we stay in this position, listening to the rustle of leaves and the high-pitched laughter of the childrenrunning around nearby, throwing a frisbee with their golden retriever. Their mother watches from afar, eyes locked on the small children, afraid they might escape from her sight.
With how hard I’ve been pushing myself in training for the game in Newcastle this weekend, I needed this time with Tatum to decompress and fucking relax. Tatum returned to her position as the club’s physiotherapist yesterday, which boded well for me because I got to steal a moment of her time while she did a full examination of my quad. Between kisses and knowing smiles, she concluded that I had nothing to worry about. All I need to do is strap up my quad and be mindful of how I enter tackles during the game.
The status quo has been returned, which means I can breathe a little easier.
My threat to Zoe about getting her kicked off the squad worked a treat because now she refuses to bat an eye in my direction. She has her sights set on Caleb, one of the guys on interchange. I pray the poor fucker doesn’t make the same mistake I did by going there, but only time will tell. His business has nothing to do with me, so I’m determined to keep my mouth shut.
For the first time in two weeks, I feel whole again.
Needing to move or do something to redirect the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I jump to my feet and reach for the rugby ball resting at the edge of the red and black checkered blanket. Tatum’s eyes track my movement as I toss the ball in the air, catching it with ease.
Wiggling my brows, a smirk spreads across my face. “You up for some fun?”
Tatum pushes off her stomach and onto her feet, her nose barely reaching my chest. She tilts her head to the side, eyeing the ball. “What kind of fun?”
“I can run some passing drills with you.”
Heat floods her lightly freckled cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”
I press a chaste kiss to her forehead and slide my fingers through hers. “You don’t have to be, Tate. It’s all about having fun, yeah? Letting loose.”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, and I contemplate stealing it from her and claiming it as mine, but stop short when I realise we’re not the only people in the park.
“Okay,” she finally says. “But if I’m shit, don’t tell my dad or anyone for that matter.”
I chuckle, guiding her from under the oak tree and into the warm winter sun. “My lips are sealed, strawberry.” I drop her hand and step back, flicking my wrist as a gesture to move backward. When she’s a few metres away, I toss the ball in the air again. “Okay, the first drill is simple. I’ll pass the ball to you, and all you have to do is catch it, okay?”
Tatum rolls her eyes. “That’s it? Easy peasy.”
I grin. “Just you wait, Tate.”
