Chapter 3
Conversion: Trying to turn one score into something more.
Translation: Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Everly
“Well, are you all packed up?” my stepmom, Cozy, asks over the phone as I tape a box of my clothes shut.
“As much as I can be.” I blow a strand of hair out of my face and pull the lid off the marker to write down my new address
at Fletcher Mountain. “The rest I should be able to fit in the three suitcases I’m allowed on the plane.”
“Good, good,” Cozy replies cheerily. “How about finals? Are you ready for those?”
I groan. “I’m ready to be done with uni and studying if that answers your question.”
“I’m ready for that too,” she confirms. “It will be nice to have you home for good. We’ve missed you in Colorado, Sea Monster.”
I smile because that’s the nickname Cozy gave me back when she was just my nanny, and I was a mere eleven-year-old, bullheaded
little terror. She was the last name on the list of people my dad and I were interviewing, but I knew the moment she walked
into the boardroom wearing an orange tie-dye matching set that she was perfect. Not only for me, but for my dad.
My matchmaking origin story.
Now they’re married and have my brother, Ethan, who’s twelve, and they’re in the process of building their third home up on
Fletcher Mountain next to my uncles. If that’s not a rave review for my matchmaking skills, I don’t know what is.
“Are you bummed I’m moving straight to Fletcher Mountain and not coming back to Boulder for a bit?” I ask as I click the speaker
button on the phone to have both my hands free to stack my box on top of the others I’ll be mailing out tomorrow.
“Not at all,” she answers genuinely. “I get it. You’re twenty-two years old. You don’t want to move back into your old childhood
bedroom. Plus, if you’re working on the mountain, it makes sense for you to live up there.” Her tone shifts to one of teasing
when she adds, “Not to mention, you moving into our cabin is the only thing that motivated your father’s brothers to actually
get some work done on our new build. I’ve been hounding them for months to make some progress, and they keep pushing me off,
but the minute I inform them you’re going to move in there when you get back, suddenly, the Fletcher Family Getaway is nearly
complete. Those three uncles of yours are super excited to have their niece up there with them for a while. We’ve all missed
you something fierce.”
I smile at that, feeling an ache in my chest as I long for the comfort of my family. I’ve been abroad for a long time, and
I can’t wait to feel settled and grounded again. “I’m excited too. It’ll be an experience to fully immerse myself in the mountain
living. I can’t wait.”
“Trista can’t wait either. Poor thing needs all the help she can get. She is drowning with how quickly her rescue is growing.
She just got a donkey at the center.”
“Oh, I know,” I exclaim excitedly. “I’m fully informed, and I’ve already drafted up a plan of action for the summer. I’m hoping the guys have made progress on that lane I requested they add from the highway that gives more direct access to Mount Millie. That’s a big part of my master plan.”
“Putting that FESS degree from Trinity to good use already.”
“Damn right,” I confirm. “Mount Millie Rescue Center is going to be my bitch this summer.”
“Some things never change with you, Sea Monster.” Cozy laughs, and my head jerks up when Cliona opens the door to our room,
her face red and blotchy, her posture slumped and defeated.
“Hey, I gotta go, Cozy. Did you need anything else?”
“Nope. We’ll see you when we come out in a couple weeks to bring you home! Save me a pint of Guinness.”
“Will do . . . Talk soon!”
We hang up, and I jump up from the ground and rush over to Cliona, who looks worse than I’ve ever seen her. And that’s saying
a lot because some of her rugby matches make her look like she was hit by a truck.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice trembling with concern. Cliona has been gone all weekend, back home with her parents and
Wolf after the dreaded rugby match. We’ve texted a few times, but it seemed bleak with her parents, so I didn’t have the heart
to tell her that the whole campus is calling her brother Conri the Convict.
Not much of an upgrade from Conri the Wolf, I fear.
“Worst weekend of my life,” she says and flops face-first onto the mattress.
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, but this drama with Conri is bad. Thankfully, they ruled that his shove against the ref was accidental, but he’s still
banned for six weeks, which is just reaffirming my parents’ hatred for rugby.” Her face twists in pain as she fights back
tears. “They don’t want me to play for Leinster now.”
I gasp. “But you already have a contract.”
“They want me to decline it.” She turns over and scrubs her hands over her face, wiping aggressively at her tears spilling
down.
“But, Cliona, you’re an adult. You can make your own choice in all this, right?”
“Oh, sure, and then just devastate my parents until the end of time.” She scowls up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what it’s
like in America, but in Ireland, a mam’s guilt is about as bad as it can get. Like a rosary wrapped around your throat, meant
to save you, when in fact it’s just choking the life out of you.”
I tilt my head to the side. “American guilt isn’t real fun either.”
“And, Everly, can I be honest?” she says, sitting up to look me straight in the eyes. “I don’t know if I even want rugby without
Wolf. To go play for a club while he’s stuck working for the corner shop and studying for his law exam feels like such a shite
thing for me to do to my brother, especially when he got into that fight because of me.”
“What do you mean because of you?”
She winces as if she said too much. “It was my ex he got into it with on the pitch.”
“Oh,” I reply gravely. “I didn’t realize.”
“I don’t even care about my ex. It’s my brother I’m wrecked about. I have to save his career. We’re the Reilly Rugby Twins.
I don’t want to lose that.” She touches the sun and moon tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
“What can be done, exactly?” I ask, feeling my blood pressure rise with the desire to problem-solve this situation. I don’t
know Conri enough to really feel called to help him, but I’ll do anything for Cliona. “Is there really no club that wants
him?”
Cliona chews her lip thoughtfully. “As it stands today, there is still one club on the table. It’s one that Wolf wasn’t interested in before, but now, it’s his only option. He just has to show proof that he’s working on his anger.”
“Okay, that sounds promising.” I jump up on my feet and begin pacing the room. “We just need to do a bit of image rehab for
him. Prove to them that he’s not the animal he appears to be. Maybe he can do anger management classes or go to therapy. Or
volunteer to help those less fortunate. Something that shows he’s working on himself more than just the physical ways that
rugby requires of him.” My body shivers as I think of those incredibly thick thighs of his, and then I shake my head to get
back on task. Mustn’t think of best friend’s brother’s thighs ever again. “I can come up with an action plan tonight. I can even write him a letter that—”
“Fletch . . .” Cliona cuts me off, and I turn to find her sitting up and staring at me with a huge, bright smile. “Can you
get him a job at your aunt’s rescue center?”
“What?” I ask, my mind spinning at the bizarre words that just came out of her mouth.
“The place you’re going to work after uni. It’s a charity, right? A nonprofit? Could Wolf work there for your aunt?”
“I mean . . . maybe, but why would he want to? It’s all the way in rural Colorado.”
“The club that has interest in Wolf is in Denver.”
I lower myself onto my bed to stare back at my roommate. “My Denver?”
“Are there any other Denvers?” Cliona laughs.
“I don’t know.” I struggle to blink away my shock because this is a weird merging of worlds right now, and I’m not sure how
I feel about it all. To think of Wolf in my life back in Colorado feels intimate and bizarre. Like he’s seeing inside my panty
drawer.
God, “panty” is such a gross word. “Underwear” feels weird too.
Like something for old people. “Knickers” is more common over here, but that feels silly.
Wolf will certainly think I’m silly. He’ll take one look at me with my family, and it’ll confirm everything he probably already thinks of me.
Dumb, silly girl with a peculiar panty drawer.
Why aren’t there better names for our undergarments in times like this when I’m having a little mental breakdown?
“Wolf’s coach called in a favor to this Colorado team, and they said they’d consider him if he attends their summer training
camp and proves himself. Show them that he’s not—”
“Conri the Convict?”
Cliona’s head jerks back. “A bit harsh, isn’t it?”
I clench my teeth and wince. “That’s what the whole campus has been calling him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course they have. Traitorous eejits. Couldn’t tell a rugby ball from a weak Guinness, but yeah, go
ahead and take a grand dump on my brother, who’s the only reason Trinity even had a chance at winning that match. Gobshites.”
The room goes quiet for a long, awkward moment.
“Fletch, you have to help my brother. This is what you do. You help people. Only instead of matching him with the love of
his life, you’re matching him with a situation that could help his last chance at playing the sport he loves.”
“Oh, Jesus, no pressure there.” I chew my lip nervously.
“If he can prove himself in America, then he could eventually be picked up by an Irish provincial team. But he needs this
first. I need this. I don’t want to play without him. He’s my brother. My best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend,” I murmur pathetically.
“Ya can’t be my best friend when you’re already my soulmate.
” She smiles softly, and I feel that sentence like a healing balm to my troubled soul that I hide from the rest of the world all day, every day.
I never had to hide anything from Cliona.
From day one, she’s just understood me. I’m not too much for her. I’m just enough.
“Can you talk to your aunt and see if she’d be open to a work program for him?” she asks again, getting us back to business.
“It’d be like a J-1 student work visa thing. They wouldn’t have to pay him much. And if they have room and board, that would
be grand. Working for a rescue center would look great to his potential team, don’t you think?”
I lift my brows, hating the fact that this would work great for Trista too. Laying it all out like this, I’d be an asshole
not to at least ask about it. But the idea of spending the summer near Wolf, as his neighbor, working with him . . . it’s
turning my mind into a total blizzard.
“Does he even have any experience with animals?” I ask dejectedly.
“Course he does,” Cliona peals, her voice pitching so high only dogs can hear it.
I can’t help the hyenic laugh that bubbles up from my throat. “Sure, what the hell. I don’t see why I couldn’t convince my
family to host a problematic rugby player who’s been ousted from European rugby, who is also your terrifying, grumpy brother,
for a summer. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Cliona’s smile is genuine. “If anyone can pull it off, Everly Fletcher . . . it’s you. You are a mastermind, after all.”