Chapter 8
Offside: When a player is farther forward than the teammate who is carrying the ball.
Translation: The condom section of the grocery store is definitely offside.
Wolf
“My uncles are volunteer firefighters,” Everly says, pointing to the Jamestown fire department building as she drives by a
dilapidated-looking structure that leaves a lot to be desired. “It’s a really important job out here because any type of fire
situation can escalate to catastrophic levels quickly.”
I glance up at the mountain canyon above us. “We have those in Ireland too, even though it feels like it pisses rain all the
time.”
“Oh, yes, that was the first thing I noticed when I came to Trinity. Everything is always wet.”
She laughs, and my mind can’t help but picture Everly on campus again. She has an angelic look to her. Perfect creamy porcelain
skin that flushes easily and light blue eyes that shock you when she wears a little extra makeup. But her style isn’t what
I’d call girlie. She dresses like a bird who could beat you in darts, but you’d still want to buy her a drink after. Usually,
some trainers on her feet and well-worn jeans that hug her arse, but then she adds in a cropped tank that reminds you she
has curves. And she’s soft in all the right places.
My eyes glance down at Everly’s legs on full display in the little white shorts she came out wearing tonight.
I’d walked up to her cabin to wait for her by her brand-new Range Rover, a slick hundred-thousand-quid beast, depending on the trim, and had to look away when she came down the stairs.
She looked good at Trinity, but something about her on the mountain looks even better. Fitter, even.
At Trinity, I could ignore her, hard as it was. Here, that’s proving to be impossible.
“What’s the population of this town again?” I ask, desperate to distract myself from the scent of her engulfing me inside
this SUV because it’s clearly letting my mind wander to places it has no business wandering to.
“I think it’s like three hundred people. It’s not much, but it’s a pass-through town for bikers and travelers. We’re lucky
to have the Mercantile. The owner, Judy, expanded it from a pub to a grocery store ages ago, so if you need anything, you
can likely find it at her place. And it’s walkable from the mountain if you don’t mind a steep mile-high hike home.”
“Yeah, I can manage that.” I hold my hand out the open window, testing the air. “It’s warmer down here than it is on the mountain,
isn’t it?”
“Yeah, the elevation is trippy.”
I nod because I learned that the hard way on my run earlier today. This oxygen is going to take some getting used to. Back
home, I could knock out pitch sprints all day without breaking a sweat. Here, I felt like I was breathing through a straw
after getting punched in the guts. Miserable feeling.
Fletcher Mountain clearly doesn’t give a toss that I played rugby for Trinity or that I log countless hours in the gym and
flatten blokes in a ruck. The Colorado Rockies make a mockery of my previous training.
But I was too stubborn to give up. I have two weeks before my training camp starts with the Grizzlies, and Coach Flannigan told me to give myself time to adjust to the altitude before camp.
That’s why I came out early. I can’t be the first one on the ground gasping for breath, or they’ll be forgetting why they decided to take a chance on me in the first place.
But the views on my run were a nice distraction from my burning lungs. It was pleasant not seeing any traffic or hearing the
hum of the city. Just the wind in the trees, the thud of my trainers, and the occasional call of a bird that sounded like
it wanted to finish me off.
“Elevation sickness is a real thing too, so be sure to stay hydrated,” Everly says as if reading my mind. “It’s June now,
so it’s not too terribly hot yet, but by July . . . it’ll be scorching, especially in Denver, where your camp is.”
I nod, and my phone chirps in my pocket, distracting me. I pull it out to see a text from Cliona asking how my first day is
going and if they’ve caught on that I’ve never set foot on a proper farm before.
“Clio?” Everly asks knowingly.
“Yeah, she’s blowing my damn mobile up.”
“Mine too.” Everly laughs. “I’m sure she’s lonely. This is probably the farthest you guys have ever been apart from each other,
huh?”
“It is, actually,” I reply and then look out the window, shifting in my seat.
“That twin connection must be a totally different experience than me and my brother. I love Ethan—was obsessed with him when
he was a baby. But the older he got, the crazier he got, and while I was sad to leave him for Dublin, I wasn’t too sad . . .
if you know what I mean.”
The corner of my mouth tips up as I recall the lad falling asleep on me last night. He didn’t seem too crazy to me.
“Well, it’s about time for the party, so I suppose I’ll head back and prepare myself to be fake-surprised.”
She turns around in the post office car park and backs up to get her vehicle headed the other way.
It’s quite a sight to watch Everly drive.
She maneuvers her SUV like it’s nothing, despite the fact that it looks like it belongs in outer space, not a small mountain village.
I don’t think I’ve ever even been inside a car this nice.
And I still expected to see the steering wheel in front of me when I got in the front seat. So strange.
Growing up in Dublin, there was never a need to own a car because public transport was cheaper and more convenient. None of
the kids I grew up with drove either. My parents have a car the family all shares, but that’s it.
It’s going to be a bit more difficult getting where I need to go here. I am capable of driving, but hiring a car for the long
term would cost a fortune, and since I so rarely drive, navigating a car on the opposite side of the road sounded like a bad
idea.
Luckily, there’s a bus that runs from Boulder to Denver that costs three dollars a trip, so Trista said that someone from
the mountain will drive me to the bus stop in Boulder the three days a week I have training. Apparently, the Fletcher Brothers
Construction business is in Boulder, so someone is always headed into town. Can’t wait for those awkward rides.
“No turning back now,” Everly says as she parks outside the Mercantile.
There’s a good number of cars scattered throughout the car park, and I can’t help but feel anxious. “Why don’t you go in first,
and I can join a bit later.”
Everly frowns. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I’d prefer it, actually. I don’t fancy attention, and this way, I can work my way in slowly.”
“You don’t fancy attention, but you start fights on the rugby pitch?” she asks boldly, her blue eyes pinning me in my seat.
I tilt my head at her, stunned a bit by her brazen statement. “You think I’m doing that for attention?”
Everly’s shoulders lift. “I’m sure it doesn’t hurt with the ladies.” She taps her nails on the steering wheel as her cheeks flush a rosy hue, and I wonder what she’s getting at here.
“Do you have a question mulling around inside that noisy head of yours, Stretch? Because if it’s all the same to you, I’d
rather you just ask me what you’re thinking instead of river dance around it.” My tone is harsh and punishing, but my hackles
are raised at her insinuation that I’m picking fights as a means of bagging birds.
“I tried to ask you directly on the plane,” she snaps, looking at me with a challenge.
“Ask me what?” I snap back.
“If you had a girlfriend back in Dublin.” Her nostrils flare in a rather comedic way. The girl doesn’t do angry very well.
She’s just too cute and sweet-looking. Like a puppy.
And apparently, this cute, sweet thing is desperate to know my relationship status. Satisfaction curls inside my belly over
her admission. I’m under her skin, and it feels good because she’s been under mine for going on four years.
“I don’t do the girlfriend thing,” I reply, leaning in closer to her, my eyes dropping down to her lips. “Never have. Never
will.”
I look up and see her brows pinched together. “Why not?”
I shrug dismissively. “I’m trying to make a proper go of this rugby career, and I can’t have some bird messing with my plans.
The hope is to do well here and get noticed by a team back in Dublin.”
Everly’s brows lift, her face looking almost devastated if I didn’t know any better. “What if you really like the Denver team?”
“I’m not going to like anything more than getting home to Ireland.”
Everly’s cobalt-blue eyes flick back and forth between mine. “What if you meet someone? What if I could find you the love of your life? Would that change things?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t want you to matchmake me in first year, and I certainly don’t want you to matchmake me now, especially
not here in America. This summer is my comeback season for rugby, and that’s it. Anything outside of that would just be a
distraction.”
She sniffs and looks forward, her chin jutting up defiantly. “Can I ask what happened to cause you to need a comeback season
in the first place? Or did you always pick fights on the rugby field?”
I inhale a sharp breath through my nose as she so casually asks a question that is anything but casual. “You have no clue
what you’re talking about.”
“I’m just trying to understand you a bit more.” She arches her brows like she’s solving a crime. “Everyone has a story. What’s
yours, Wolf? My theory is some girl broke your heart. Am I warm?”
My teeth crack as I fight back the outward reaction I want to have over her poking and prodding at me like a bloody science
experiment. I want to snarl back at her and tell her to fuck off because she doesn’t even know me. Instead, I grind out, “It’s
none of your business.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and I can’t help but see the hurt in her eyes. I bet Everly Fletcher isn’t used to people
telling her no. The girl probably gets her way a lot in life if this fancy new car is any indication.