Christ, I don’t even want to do it on the pitch, but it comes with the territory.
“Don’t give me that look, Cillian Cairney.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, lifting a brow, and givingmea look. “You’re supposed to betrustingme, remember?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I snort.
“True,” she says with a sigh. She places the marker cap between her teeth and pulls it off before turning to face the board. She writesOPERATION FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE ITacross it in big, block letters, then turns back to me wearing a cheeky smile.
“Okay so… it’syourturn for a lesson. I was thinking about the best ways toreallyget you in with the guys, and then it dawned on me. What better way to get them to trust you than to learn everything you can about them? You’ll get the inside scoop, and I think that we can use this to our advantage. You can use what you learn to connect with them, to bond. So, we’re going to devise a plan and start at the top. Pluck them off, one by one. Take them down like enemy spies.”
I’m not at all following, and she must read the expression on my face because she rolls her eyes. Then she turns back to the board and starts writing.
This gives me a full view of her arse in those tiny white, virtually see-through nightie shorts. I realize that I should be looking anywhere but there, but also I can’t help it.
It’s a bloodyfantasticarse.
Lush and perfectly round, the soft swell of her cheeks practically hanging out from the bottom of the shorts.
I’m so engrossed with the view that I don’t even realize she’s turned to face me, catching me blatantly staring at her arse. “Cillian Cairney!”
Fuck.
“Were you just… checking out my ass?” Her palm flies to her hip as she cocks her head, glaring at me.
“Of course not.” I smirk.
I can see the pink tinting her cheeks even from my spot on the couch, and my smirk widens into a shit-eating grin.
“Good. Because we’ve got work to do. Okay, Pay attention. Focus, Kill. This is important,” she says before whipping toward the board and pointing animatedly at the name she’s written at the top. “We’re starting with the easy one. Fitz. He’s Switzerland. The white flag you’ll need. And he’s ourfirsttarget. You’ve already seen him starting to melt, like a scoop of soft serve.”
I want to interrupt and ask her if she’s lost her mind, but she’s got a look of sheer determination on her face, so I keep it to myself.
“This is probably cheating a little, but I’m already going to talk to Fitz and have him help with the other guys. Besides the point. The point is that even though Fitz isn’t captain, the guys still hold him in high regard. He’s the guy they go to for advice, or for help with something. He’s steadfast and loyal. He’s the kind of guy we need on your team. Figuratively speaking of course.”
I nod. “Of course.”
I watch Rory turn back to the board and writeWRENnext toFITZ, then draw an arrow from his name to Wren.
“Next up: Wren. The prop equivalent of a big, squishy, fluffy teddy bear. Intimidating at first glance, but then you find out that he brings his mamas flowers every Sunday and is deathly afraid of caterpillars and centipedes. He’s a sensitive little button. But he isfiercelyloyal to the team. To my dad. He might be just a little harder to win over, but if you can get Fitz then I guarantee thatyou can get Wren. They’re two peas in a pod. Good thing you have a secret weapon. Me.”
She wasn’t kidding about this being an actual lesson. I feel like I’ve learned more about the team in the past fifteen minutes than I have in the entire month that I’ve been here.
I learn that Liam is a reader who loves poetry and science fiction books. A weird combination if you ask me, but apparently he could talk for days about his favorite books featuring aliens and winged creatures. I would’ve never guessed that in a million years had Rory not told me. Another thing I wouldn’t have known is that as much of an arsehole Brooks is he volunteers at the animal shelter every other Sunday since bringing home a three-legged cat when he got pissed after a night at the bar.
Go fucking figure. I thought the bloke was a psychopath, but I guess that’s just what I see on the surface.
I’m actually pretty fucking impressed.
I knew Rory was close with these guys, but she’s taken the time to actually get to know them beyond just rugby. It makes more sense knowing her dynamic with the team than when I saw her interacting with them at the start. They’re not just players to her, they’re herfriends.
“So, your first step is going to be to extend an olive branch to Wren. Go out of your way to start a conversation with him, even if it’s about something stupid. He’s your number one right now. Let’s call it your…homework. Maybe try and talk to him about that trashy TV show you and your sister watch. I’m like ninety percent positive he watches it too. See… there is something outside of balls that you two have in common.”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “No way you’re giving mehomework when I’m the teacher, St. James. If I’m getting homework, then so are you.”
“Yeah? And what’s mine going to be?” Her brow arches as she stares at me with defiance flaring in her irises.
Hmm.
“Talk to one guy this week. At class or at the gym. Hell, even the food court if that’s where you want. But one guy who’snoton the team. And don’t mention rugby. Actually, don’t mention sports at all. Got it?”
