Fuck off, Cillian. Christ.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask gruffly.
I glance around the pitch to see who’s watching, but thank fuck, most of the guys have already left for the day, and there’s only a few left working on drills on the far side.
Not that I need to hide talking to her, but it might look… suspicious when I don’t really talk to anyone, much less the coach’s daughter.
“Um, sure?” She glances behind her then back at me. “Sorry, I thought you might have been talking to someone else.”
Her plump lips curve into a shit-eating smirk, and I roll my eyes. “It’s important.”
She pauses for a second, her dark brows arching as her gaze travels over my arms, trailing over the ink before coming back to meet my eyes. “Oooookay.”
She shuts the book, then stands, holding it to her chest. “So… talk?”
I shuffle from one foot to the other. “Somewhere…private.” I’m on edge today after the conversation with Coach, and I sure as fuck don’t want to give him any reason to question my spot here any further.
“Okay. Come with me,” she says as she turns on her heel and takes off in the direction of the administrative offices.
I follow behind her, and I try not to watch as her hips sway in the leggings she’s wearing, but I’m also still a man. So I do, and then I immediately regret it because I didn’t realize how she filled out the tight fabric.
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
Rory leads me down the empty hallway before opening one of the last doors we come to. I slip inside behind her and shut the door.
There’s a desk and a few chairs inside along with a mostly empty bookshelf, so I assume it’s used as an office or something. She walks over to the desk and hops onto the edge, staring at me with a curious expression.
“So…” She trails off, lifting a brow and swinging her feet back and forth. She’s wearing a pair of bright yellow trainers that match her personality perfectly. “What’s going on?”
Sighing, I drop my bag at my feet and bring my hands to the back of my neck, lacing them together as I hold her gaze. “Were you serious about what you said the other night?”
“About… what?” Her voice is low.
For fuck’s sake.
She’s a cheeky little brat.
A smile splits her face, curving those pillowy lips as she pretends to suddenly remember our conversation from the party. “Ohhhh. You mean when I asked you to teach me how to flirt?”
I nod, remaining silent. It’s bad enough that I’m having this conversation in the first place. I thought she’d lost her mind when she asked me to… teach her the other night at the party. Yet, I hadn’t really stopped thinking about it. Trust me, I tried.
“What if I was?” she asks as she pulls her lip between her teeth and rolls it.
“What if I… said yes?”
Her eyes widen slightly and her lips part. “Seriously?”
I exhale. “Yeah, if you keep up your side of the bargain. The only way I’m doing this is if you help me with the team. Your dad said I’m cut if I don’t make an effort and somehow get these lads to let me in.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Shit. I’m sorry, Cillian. I can help with the guys, for sure. I don’t want you off the team, and they don’t either. They just… don’t realize that yet.”
“So if I help you with this, you’ll help me with the team?”
Rory nods. “Yes. For sure.”
I’m fucked if I don’t make this work, but there’s a sinking feeling of worry in the pit of my stomach about getting involved with Rory, even in a strictly platonic way. Her dad would probably cut my fucking balls off if he knew I was even breathing the same air as her that didn’t revolve around rugby.
“Before I agree to this, I need more details. Like how this is going to work because I don’t want your dad to kill me if he finds out about this. I’m already in enough shit.”