“I prefer to think of us as studs,” Wolf says.
The way Cateline coils with tension, I expect her to tackle him at any moment. “You could think about it like a game. One you want to win.”
“Wouldn’t want to see what she’d do if we lose,” Chase mutters.
“Our time together will culminate in the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball, which you could say is the big one.”
“Like the Super Bowl?” Chase asks.
Cateline ignores him and outlines the posh event.
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re not particularly fancy,” Grey says.
“Speak for yourself.” Declan brushes imaginary dust off his shoulders.
Cateline locks her hands primly in front of her chest, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s only so she doesn’t slug one of them. “I have good news. To my surprise, all of you passed the first review. Now, you’ll have lessons in the field?—”
“The football field?” Chase asks.
Cateline glowers. “You will have an off-site opportunity to apply what you learned in the classroom to real-life scenarios.”
“Does that mean we’re done here?” Declan asks, casting a furtive glance around the room and landing on me.
Maybe he’s upset I didn’t mention it, but I didn’t have the details or the exact timeline until now. Before I can offer a look of apology, Declan’s phone rings with the crowd cheering ringtone. He clicks off his device. Cateline glares and I’m afraid she’s about to vaporize him with her laser beam eyes.
But instead of throwing me under the bus, Declan rushes to my rescue. “Sorry about that. I thought I’d silenced it beforecoming in here. During our lessons, Maggie made sure I knew to do that.”
I cast him a subtle look of gratitude.
“You said we’re going offsite, but I thought this was a month-long program,” Declan says.
“Sounds like you like it here, dude.” Wolf’s expression sharpens with distaste.
“Nah, I think he’s pumped that we finished early. Take that, Coach Hammer. We’re proper gentlemen,” Chase says with a laugh.
Cateline snorts. “You’re done with classroom instruction, yes, but not with your coaching. Your etiquette teacher will be your constant companion wherever you go and whatever you do for the next three weeks.”
Wolf matches Cateline with a snort. Grey stiffens and doesn’t take his eyes off Everly. As for Chase, I can’t quite gauge his response. Declan is on his phone, presumably checking his message. I can’t imagine he’s pumped to have me as his shadow for the next three weeks.
Neither am I, because the last thing I want to do is trace Declan’s footsteps into the limelight.
Cateline tells us that travel arrangements will be made with the players’ managers and our instructions are in a packet with our name by the door.
Leaving the bubble of Blancbourg should be interesting and a challenge, all things considered.
After ending the meeting, I find Declan standing by the window with his back to me and his phone to his ear. As I approach, he must sense someone behind him because he turns and lowers his device.
Our gazes meet. His expression falls to pieces, then quickly reassembles into stony resolve.
The caller from Ireland must’ve finally gotten in touch with him.
He mutters a word that likely has never been heard in the esteemed and proper rooms of the finishing school.
Cateline’s sharp eyes dart in his direction. “What have we said about language?” she asks.
“Sorry, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me,” he chokes out, then rushes from the room.
Wearing high heels, I follow, but his football training works to his advantage. He’s fast and no longer in the hall by the time I get there.
