Chapter 70
ACE
It’s game day. My first match in two weeks, and I’ve got one hell of a point to prove. I’ve got my starting spot to reclaim. No offense to Sione, but the number thirteen jersey? Yeah, that belongs to me.
Now that I’ve got that number settled on my back again, I don’t plan on wasting the opportunity to show our coach and everyone on the team just how much this means to me. This is an opportunity I refuse to allow to slide. I can’t pass on a moment as important as this, there’s no way in hell.
I’m going through my usual motions in the locker room, getting focused, using those last few minutes after warm-up has finished to make sure my head is in the right place, when my phone vibrates.
I’ve already seen the texts from Wren wishing me luck and telling me to stay safe. I’ve already been through the roller coaster of emotion something as simple as hearing directly from her has brought on. So I’m not expecting to hear from her again until after full time.
When I quickly check, the name on my screen is part-relief, part-wry smile. It must be midday for him, but a day ahead with our time difference. Either way, a text from my dad is a rare occasion. He prefers to forget about technology altogether on the island.
Dad:
Good luck, my boy. Your āiga are all watching.
Misia oe. Mitamita ia te oe.
“I miss you too, old fella,” I murmur. Then quickly type my reply, aware that the team around me is starting to gather in the middle of the locker room and pump each other up before we head out there.
Me:
Fa’afetai. If I score a try tonight, just know it’s for you and Mom, okay?
I quickly send him a photo of the tape on my wrist, where I’ve written her name in black marker…
just like always. Slipping my phone away, my chest tightens.
Any time spent thinking about my dad is always a riptide of emotions.
A constant pull at my limbs, threatening to drag me off my feet if I let it get the better of me.
There’s nothing I want more than to make him proud, even though I know he can’t watch me play.
Hell, I don’t even know if his village back on Savai’i has reliable enough internet coverage to catch the American streaming coverage.
He usually keeps an eye on live scoring updates, but just once in my career I wish I could look up in the stands and see his face.
With a quick kiss to those letters on the inside of my wrist, I give a little point to the sky and surge to my feet.
Either way, whatever happens on the field tonight, it’s no different from always.
I’m out there playing for him, for Mom watching over me, and while Wren has been part of that small circle of people I’ve always thought of in private before games, it lifts me to a new level knowing that she’s here and knows just how special she is to me.
I touch that space just over my heart, the ink I had done for her, because I could never risk writing her name anywhere. It wasn’t an option for me, but at least I found a way to have her with me in secret whenever I’ve been on the field.
Now she knows, and it makes my blood pump harder at the thought this will be my first match where that truth hangs between us.
Damn, if I don’t feel something raw and primal at the thought of one day bonding with her like Theo has already done. It was one hell of a moment to share that closeness with the two of them, to be included in a way, and I’ve been thinking about it nonstop.
I know Connor has, too. He just hasn’t found the words.
Speaking of, I glance at Connor, who is staring at something on his phone while one hand scrubs over his mouth. With brows pulled together, he stares and then his lips move silently.
“You good?” I roll my shoulders and stretch my neck side to side as my boots clack on the flooring.
He looks up, blinks like he completely forgot he was about to play a rugby match, then shakes off whatever it is.
“Yeah. Let’s get out there.” His grin is lazy and more handsome than he has any right to be while prepping for a big match. “Do I gotta remind you how to get out onto the pitch… orrr…?” He pulls me in for a shoulder bump and slap across my back.
“Fuck you,” I grunt.
Connor splutters something that sounds suspiciously like I’m trying.
Before I can give him a look to figure out whether he really said that, I’m dragged into a series of team pre-match rituals, thumps across my shoulders, and wishing each other good luck.
Cap finds me just as our team manager gives him a whistle and jerk of his chin over by the main door. The music starts to build in the distance and it’s definitely time. The energy in the locker room hums with anticipation.
“Leave it all out there tonight, uso.” Cap brings me in for the type of bro hug he’s so very good at offering. Sure and steady, and somehow the type of confidence surge as if I’ve just been plugged into a battery. I don’t know how he does it, but he manages to supercharge this team.
“Got your back, uce.” I nod, and we do our silly little handshake we’ve done before every game since we first laced up our boots together. Some days I scoff at pre-match superstitions but do them anyway. Tonight, it just feels right to lock my focus in place.
As we fall into line and make our way through the tunnel, the crowd’s roar grows louder with each passing second. The pulse of music rocks around all of us, building into an electric hum running through every single one of us as I shove my mouthguard in and start to run out onto the pitch.
We’ve only got a short stretch of time until we head into the playoffs.
Until the time when this season comes to the do-or-die moment of securing our place in the finals.
I know we all want to take it game by game, but as we close in on this point of the season?
There are bigger things that start creeping into all our minds.
I’m not looking to pass up on a golden moment to secure my combination with Murphy, to make sure my starting spot stays mine. Nor am I going to allow our team to stumble when each win really starts to matter.
The Wolves are going to be taking home the cup this season, and until now, that has never felt as important as it does.
I’m going to do it for my mate and my pack.