Coach Matthews chuckles next to me. “And that… is Rory St. James.”
My gaze bounces to him, and then back to the tiny spitfire on the pitch who’s now giving someone else a verbal lashing. Most guys wouldn’t take a girl like this seriously, but these guys are looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe in their gazes.
“That’sCoach’s…daughter?” I mutter, my eyes still widened in shock.
“Yep. She’s our equipment manager, but that girl knows more about rugby than half these guys do. You’ll meet her when you meet the rest of the team. Look, all I’d worry about, Cairney, is putting in your time and making rugby your top priority. We’re not asking for perfection. We’re asking you to show up, do your job, and stay out of trouble. Earn your spot on this team. Earn their trust.”
I nod. “I know. And I know that I’m an asset. If you give me time, I’ll prove it not to just you and Coach St. James, but to them.”
Silence hangs between us for a beat, both of us still watching what’s unfolding on the pitch.
“You wanna know therealsecret to getting in with those guys?” He jerks his head toward the feisty brunette on the pitch. “It’sher.”
CHAPTER 2
Rory
There isno onemore petty and dramatic than a group of college guys.
Specifically, rugby players.
Trust me, I know, since I spend the majority of my time with them.
You’d think that it would be girls who like the tea, but there is nothing these guys love more than being dead center in the middle of anything and everything.
Generally, I ignore anything that has to do with drama, but this situation can’t be ignored.
And by situation, I meanCillian Cairney.
Prescott University’s latest headline straight off the plane from London. Six foot four, 230 pounds of tattooed, British bad boy for everyone on campus to lose their minds over.
Which they absolutely are. Everyone’s obsessed with our new transfer.
Half the campus is falling over their feet to catch a glimpseof the guy who’s been dubbed “Kill” on the rugby pitch, and the other half are too busy trying to figure out why he’s been exiled here to begin with.
It’s not a secret that he got expelled and a permanent red card from his team in London, and since no one truly knowswhy… everyone’s desperate to find out.
Of course, the only person who knows the real reason is my dad, and that’s only because he’s Prescott’s head rugby coach.
Even being the coach’s daughter didn’t give me access to that piece of information. All I know is that Cillian’s apparently run out of chances, and a friend of my dad’s called in a favor, which is how he ended up here, walking on to the team midseason.
During what could be our most important season yet.
Yesterday, I spotted him on the touchlines with Coach Matthews observing practice, but aside from the couple of stolen glances I allowed myself, I did my best to pretend he wasn’t there at all.
I have no intention of feeding into the frenzy.
Cillian Cairney is a distraction.
One that Inorthe team can afford.
The guys are having a hard time focusing with his arrival, and if we want any shot at the championship this year, they’ve got to bust their asses for it.
And now, that includeshim.
I fidget in my chair, glancing down at my phone for the tenth time since we walked into the film room for this team meeting, chewing my lip. Better my lip than my nails since I’m attempting to grow them out long enough to keep them painted.
“Well, I heard that he got caught with like half a pound of cocaine. The guy’s basically a low-level drug dealer,” Ezra muttersfrom across the conference table. He’s leaned back in his chair, tossing a ball up in the air as he speaks, and I roll my eyes.
