Page 62 of Play Me
“Bye, Astrid.”
“What about holsters like in the old movies?” I say, wrinkling my nose.
His dimples sink deep into his cheeks as he shakes his head and starts to close the door.
“Are there pictures?” I ask, giggling and moving so I can see him as the door closes. “Give me one good yeehaw!”
I hear him groan as the lock clicks in place.
Gray as a cowboy.I laugh all the way to the car.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Astrid
“What’s that look about?” Renn asks me, laughing.
I survey the scene around us and try to decide where to start. First, the air stinks like grass, mud, and water thanks to what can only be described as a deluge overnight. Puddles form on the edges of the pitch, and I’m certain the guys are intentionally getting as muddy as possible.
Children. All of them.
Then there are the things I heard shouted from player to player, things that I would take my earrings out to fight over if someone said them to me. Yet they all share a laugh and prepare to scrum again.I think. I can’t quite tell if this is a free-for-all or if strategy is involved.
“I’ll never understand rugby,” I say, furrowing a brow as another scrum begins. “It’s like football, soccer, and cheerleading had a baby with big thighs.”
Renn’s laughter grows louder at my analysis. “I don’t know how the hell you got cheerleading in the mix.”
“What is happening right now?” I ask, watching them scurry around.
“Right now, they’re trying to work the ball to the back of the scrum to Ridge. Then—there. He has it now. See? Ridge is number eight.”
I nod.
“Okay, Ridge will either pick up the ball and go, or Gray will take it. Like that,” Renn narrates. “Gray can either snipe and run it himself if he sees a gap around the scrum or pass it to the fly-half or a forward.”
Gray picks up the ball, then turns and lunges as if he’s going to run to the right. As soon as everyone shifts that direction, he makes a quick change to the left and explodes forward. He makes it a few yards before he’s tackled and lands on his side.
Renn smiles.
“I take it that went well,” I say.
Renn’s head subtly rocks back and forth as he turns to me. “He’s the best in the game … when he wants to be.”
The two of us stand on a balcony just outside a conference room on the executive level. It’s Renn’s personal observatory. He loves rugby too much not to want to be involved in every tier of the game. But he’s told me more than once that if he gets involved with practices and games, it undermines the coaching staff and the ultimate goal of winning.
As the guys prepare to scrum again, my mind flirts with what Renn just said.“Gray is the best in the game when he wants to be.”I can’t fathom why he wouldn’t want to be the best. But something tells me that Renn knows the answer.
“How has it been going with Gray?” Renn asks, watching the scrum unfold.
I sigh. “I thought I was here to help you get Blakely’s birthday party organized.”
“You are, and you did. I feel much better about the party after our chat today. But I also want to check in and see how things are working out between the two of you.”
I watch Gray move about like he has endless energy. He’s one of the smaller guys out there, but he’s by far the quickest. He seems to know where the ball is going before it gets there, and his teammates appear to follow his gestures and commands without a second thought.
“They’re going better,” I say, my eyes glued to Gray and the way his body moves. There’s mud all over him, and it’s … hot. “We met in person on Sunday and managed an entire hour face-to-face without drawing blood.”
