Page 40 of Begin Again Again

“Yeah fine. Congratulations.”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything. Hey, Beth, nice work!”

“Thanks.” Beth smiled at Daisy then glanced up at him. “Glad you made it to a winning game, Byron Thomas.”

It happened again, the flipping feeling. Byron dropped his hand from his chest. “Yeah, congrats.”

Beth looked somewhat underwhelmed. He couldn’t blame her. As she turned away to congratulate a tall redhead, Byron decided to take five. He moved to the tree line and leaned against a tall grey gum. As Beth picked up her water bottle, that Joshua guy strode up to her looking like a pro wrestler with his shoulders squared and his biceps flexed.

“Whwo’s a big mwan?”Byron muttered. “Whwo wants the pwetty girl to see his big mwuscles?”

He touched her arm and whispered something in her ear. Beth laughed. Byron gritted his teeth. Ungritted his teeth. He shouldn’t care. Didn’t care.

Josh gave Beth a light bump on the shoulder, holding up four fingers. He’d scored four tries, so Byron was pretty sure he knew what he was saying. He wished Derek was with him, could almost imagine the shit they could talk if he was.

Oh, good fuckstrat, bloke. Remind the girl you’re a better rugby player than her. Chicks love that.

Yeah, I mean your league seems to solely consist of HR managers but don’t let that stop the hype train, Josho. Four tries is a real feather in your cap.

Imaginary Derek blew out a breath.Look, there’s no shame in lording it over a bunch of mums and dads. I mean, there seems to be a men’s league across the park that’d probably kick his hole, but I’m sure he’s got a good reason for being a single bloke who plays mid-level mixed.

Yeah, well we all wanna be a big fish in a microscopic pond, don’t we?

Clown.

Dickhead.

He and Derek never talked shit on the field. It was unprofessional. Weak. But they did a hell of a running commentary from the bench. Or the pub. Or in front of the TV. Byron folded his arms across his chest, feeling stupidly, ridiculously better. At least until Beth flashed him a curious smile. Then he felt fucking stupid, bantering with a mate who wasn’t there. With a mate he didn’t even go back and forth with in real life anymore.

Beth waved him over, her smile wide.

Feeling slightly better, Byron pushed himself off the tree and headed toward her. Josh’s jaw tightened. Good. He could take his goofy John Cena routine someplace else.

“Hey,” Beth said as he drew closer. “The team usually gets dinner at The Great Northern after games. Want to come?”

Normally Byron would have said yes, but Josh’s expression said he’d prefer he fucked right off. Byron anticipated an evening of the guy boxing him out of conversations, making him look like an idiot in front of Beth. There was no sense playing by those rules. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to look apologetic. “I already got us a reservation at the Cornish.”

Beth’s gaze followed the length of his bicep to his chest. “I… really?”

“Yeah. But I can cancel if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. We’ll go.” She turned to Josh. “Sorry. I’ll give it a miss tonight.”

Josh scratched his eyebrow way too aggressively. “Next time, ey?”

“Sure.”

Byron smiled. “Sounds good.”

Good to be the king, said imaginary Derek.

You are not wrong, bloke.

Beth turned to the rest of her team. “Thanks for the game, guys. I’ll see you next week.”

“Why aren’t you coming to dinner?” Daisy’s gaze flicked to Byron. “You come too! It’ll be great!”

“We’re headed somewhere else,” Beth said. “Thanks though. We’ll see you next week. Or I’ll see you next week. Byron might not—”

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