She pulls her phone out of her jeans. “All quiet on the eastern front.” Her smile is brittle. “Thanks for that, too. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to him like that before.” She pinches a piece of sandwich off and eats it.
“Just because someone yells louder than you, doesn’t mean you have to listen to them.”
She nods. “I know, but he’s my da, you know? Rugby royalty. Former championship winning coach. Knows best, especially when it comes to rugby.” Her words drip with acidity as they fall from her beautiful mouth.
I can’t help snickering.
“What?” She arches a brow, and her nose wrinkles, sandwich poised right at her lips.
“He doesn’t knowyou, Rhi-Bird. He might know the technical aspect of the game, from his limited and privileged perspective as a man immersed in the sport, but he doesn’t knowyou. He’s trying to keep his own career alive through his kids.”
She recoils like I smacked her.
“Sorry.” I cram half a sandwich into my mouth to stop utter bollocks from coming out. I groan. I haven’t had a corned beef sandwich since I was a kid. The nostalgia is strong.
She shakes her head, moving on to an egg and onion sandwich. “You’re not wrong. I’ve just never heard it said out loudbefore.” She takes a bite, chewing slowly. “It’ll take some getting used to.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect. He’s left his mark on Northern Irish Rugby, no one can take that away from him, but being yours and Taranis’s agent? Micromanaging you and your sisters’ careers? The way he’s so involved ineverything?” I tut, shaking my head. “I may be reading things wrong. I’ve only seen the side that the media shares, and him throwing his toys out of the pram yesterday, but his overbearing nature seems less about what’s best for his kids and more about keeping his own dream alive.”
She rolls her lips together, falling quiet again, and the urge to fill the silence simmers up inside me. “I didn’t mean to overstep. Not with your dad, or with Laura this morning. It’s not that I think you can’t handle yourself.”
She leans over and thumps my upper arm. “Good, because I can.”
I pretend to be mortally wounded. “You’d think knowing I have a prosthetic limb would make you less intent on busting up the remaining three.”
Her eyes narrow as she wags half a sandwich at me. “Don’t pull that card with me, mister.” Her face softens. “But since you mentioned it.” She puts the sandwich back onto her plate. “Are you okay? I know you don’t like being fussed over, but we also didn’t plan for you to spend the night. I just…” She looks at me like she’s afraid of upsetting me and doesn’t know what she’s trying to say.
“I’m okay, thank you. I’m sore, and tired, but I’ll be okay. I’m surprised I slept through, usually the discomfort wakes me when I fall asleep with it on. Must have been my beautiful, weighted blanket.”
Her cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. It takes all I have not to reach out and brush my fingers against her warm skin. “No flirting,” she scolds. “Rule number ten.”
“Technically, rule number ten is “no outside flirting.” I shrug, taking a massive bite of my sandwich. “Plus, rule number twelve, honesty is the best policy.”
That small, familiar smile plays on her lips. She looks like she might argue, but she stays quiet. We finish our lunch in a comfortable silence that’s only broken by Rhiannon swearing when she reads a message on her phone.
“What’s wrong?” That wasn’t the first question that came to mind, but it was the first one I let come out of my mouth. I was going to ask “what the fuck did he say?” but I’ve done enough jumping up and down on her dad’s head for one day.
She stares at me in silence for a really long time before she purses her lips to blow out a heavy breath. “How do you feel about black tie?”
CHAPTER 26
Robert
“Wow, for a man with one leg you sure do movefast, McAllister.” My childhood best friend and biggest thorn in my side Niall “Sully” O’Sullivan lobs a cushion at my face from my sofa. “When’s the wedding?”
I roll my eyes and return the volley. “Fuck off.”
We’ve been friends since day one of primary school. He plays hockey for the Belfast Blizzard, and he’s one of the very few people in the world who didn’t treat me differently after my accident. In fact, he might be the only one.
He catches the cushion with ease and tucks it behind him before he takes a pull from his bottle of beer. “You can’t blame me, man. I go away for a few weeks, come back, and you’re all lovey dovey with the daughter of the man who wanted to kill you.” He chuckles, leaning forward to grab a slice of tuna, pepperoni, and mushroom pizza from the coffee table. “You sure know how to pick them, Rob. Even if it’s all for show.”
He took one look at me as soon as he arrived, two-for-Tuesday pizzas in hand, and knew I was faking it with Rhiannon. Or that I was struggling with the fact I’m not getting anywith a woman I’m supposed to be getting some with. Either way.
I couldn’t deny it, but I haven’t exactly admitted it to him either. As he chews, he studies my face with an intensity he usually saves for his opponents on the ice. “Oh no.” He grins, shaking his head, which makes his ’90s boy-band curtains swing back and forth across his forehead.
He lost a bet and has to keep his hair long over the summer. I think he looks ridiculous, but he’s digging the shaggy, surfer dude look, and won’t hear a bad word against his golden locks.
I open my mouth to distract him from whatever he’s about to say with a dig about his hairdo, but he cuts me off. “You’ve caught feelings for the fly-half, boyo.” He chuckles. “It may have started off as some kind of falsity, but I know you.” He wags his finger at my face. “I. Know. You. Rob. And this…” The finger keeps wagging as he takes another bite of his slice. “This isn’t entirely for show anymore, is it?”
