‘True,’ Marcus concedes. ‘I knew Shelly was the one right away. She took a bit of convincing though, but we got there in the end.’ He shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips.
‘I knew Emma was something special. Took me a full year to get the guts to do something about it though. Such a waste of time in hindsight. You can’t fight fate, right?’ Eddie smirks.
I can’t say I’ve ever given much thought to fate. Anita had been in my life for as long as I can remember. Instead of being The One, I suppose she was simply The Only One, until lately of course. There was no bolt of lightning moment. She was always just there.
Eddie rubs a towel through his hair and continues to make his case for the matchmaking site. ‘Why don’t you sign up for it? I’ll send you on the agency details. It’s supposed to be really exclusive. They do all the work for you – no swiping, no texting, no stalkers. You pay big money, but so do all of the members. That’s what ensures a serious commitment to finding a proper relationship.’
‘I’m not into internet dating. I might just lie low for a while.’ I try to grab my bag but Eddie grabs me by the jersey.
‘Lie low? You’ve been lying low the whole time we’ve known you. Now is the time to turn from the caterpillar into the butterfly, my friend!’ The guys are sniggering but Eddie’s face is the picture of seriousness.
‘Butterflies are for girls,’ I tell him.
‘No butterfliesattractgirls. Seriously, with the situation at home, it’s not good for you to be wallowing.’ Now might not be the best time to admit I’m not wallowing about Anita, but more so that the one woman I found myself deeply attracted to since then is off-limits.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I lie.
As I turn to leave the changing room, Coach enters with two members of the board of directors. No doubt we’re in for a pep talk about our crucial Six Nations Championship decider. Or perhaps Marcus has been flashing his arse again and we’re all about to get a bollocking.
The conversation dies down to a quiet lull. James O’Malley turns off the last running shower and struts towards us, wrapping his towel round his waist. Coach clears his throat and claps his hands for our attention. The anticipation’s palpable.
‘I’d like to introduce the new physiotherapist to our team.’ He steps aside and I catch a glimpse of a woman standing behind him. My heart plummets into my gut and an audible gasp rips around the room as a brunette steps forward. Her spiral curls are secured on top of her head and a hoody attempts to mask that voluptuous figure, but there is absolutely no denying it – Amy Harrington is our new physio.
Eddie never mentioned his sister was going for the job. Shit, from the thunderous glint in his eye and the way his jaws locks into a tight grimace, it’s the first he’s heard of it as well. A groan permeates the air between us; I’m not sure if it’s from him, or me.
Marcus’s eyes shine with delight as he witnesses Eddie’s obvious disapproval. ‘I’m going to have to book myself a sports massage. I’m beginning to feel a little stiff,’ he says, as a grin rips across his face from ear to ear.
Eddie’s fist connects with his right arm at the same time mine connects with his left.
‘Have a bit of fucking respect,’ Eddie hisses at Marcus, even though we both know he’s only joking. Apart from the fact he’s happily married, everyone knows the bro code. The grateful look Eddie shoots me for defending his sister’s honour serves yet another reminder of this.
A shudder of unease sweeps through me as I internally acknowledge my instinct to thump Marcus has nothing to do with the fact Amy is Eddie’s sister and everything to do with the fact that I want her for myself, and have done since I first laid eyes on her.
Silently observing the scuffle, Amy stares stonily at the three of us, her eyes lingering on mine several seconds longer than the others. The same invisible chemistry lures me towards her, begging me to step closer. I force my feet not to sprint across to her.
I yearn to know if our connection was mutual or something I concocted. Unlike most of the men in this room, I don’t want to see what she’s hiding underneath that hoody. Well I do, but not yet at least. No, it’s way worse than that. I want to peel back her defensive layers and see what’s hiding in her head and in her heart. Because there’s something utterly captivating about her. Something deep inside her that appeals to something deep inside of me. Because of this, I’ve tried to avoid her, avoiding the players’ lounge and the risk of bumping into her again.
But how I am I supposed to avoid her now when she’s effectively part of the team?
ChapterSeven
AMY
My first week with the rugby team is less than ideal. Firstly, my brother point-blank refuses to look at me, let alone speak to me. Secondly, my hands are in absolute agony pummelling knots from the tissue of tank-sized athletes. Lastly, I can’t stop staring at Ollie Quinn, thinking about him, or wondering at exactly which point he might need my professional services. Because these hands could never tire of massaging that body. Every time my eyes land on his, a surge of unruly pheromones gush through every square inch of me. This goody two shoes has been having terribly naughty thoughts.
Unfortunately, he’s avoiding me like someone he slept with before discovering they’re married. He barely looks at me and when he does it reminds me of the look my brothers used to give me when I used to turn up at the local park and beg to play ball with them. As though seeing me here is an inconvenience.
The only positive from the entire week is spending time at Carton House, the plush five-star hotel where the team training ground is located. It’s a far cry from my cosy but dated cottage; the place oozes luxury.
I opt to eat dinner in the restaurant again, this time with the other two physios, Aiden and Stuart. Aged thirty-five, Aiden is big bellied, with laughter lines around his eyes. He’s married to a woman called Diane and they have three kids. Stuart is tall and lean, with a smile like a hungry shark. He’s twenty-eight and currently single. He’s mentioned the latter six times since we were introduced three days earlier. He’s definitely scoping me out as a potential. I’m under no illusion that I’m special; I’m simply the only female employed with the team. But if he considers Eddie’s silence towards me as indifference, he’s in for a shock.
The three of us convene around a circular table, discussing Gareth Flannagan’s dislocated shoulder. It’s one of the commonest injuries associated with the sport. The team doctor, Alan Drury, popped it back into place but Coach wants the three of us to try and speed up Gareth’s recovery.
Stuart clicks his finger at a passing waitress. She turns towards him, lips pursed in a cross between a tight smile and a grimace.
‘Two more pints of Guinness, please.’ He orders for himself and Aiden without consulting him. ‘What are you having?’
‘I’m good with water, thanks.’ Reaching across the table, I refill my half-empty glass from the bottle.
