Chapter 4
Teddy
As I walked out of the media room, I inhaled far more than my lungs could handle. I wasn’t great with plans changing at the last minute. My brain was definitely attempting to sabotage me and tell me all the reasons why this was a bad omen for our team. So, deep breathing was necessary.
It wasn’t enough that being around Connor O’Riley already dredged up every unresolved feeling from college—the rivalry, the competition, the way he always seemed to edge me out by an inch, no matter how hard I pushed.
We’d both been studying sports therapy and rehab back then, always top of our class, circling each other like two athletes refusing to be second best. And somehow, years later, he still had that same infuriating ability to get under my skin without even trying.
Now, with the Knights crashing into our world and the cameras rolling, it felt like history was threatening to repeat itself—only this time, the stakes were a hell of a lot higher.
“Leave some air for the rest of us, Sloane.” Micah saddled up next to me, nudging my shoulder.
I was grateful it was her and not Coach Emery.
Micah and I went through college together, so she knew exactly why I might be off, and then happenstance landed us here on the same team, with her as the assistant coach.
But it was good to see a familiar face after all that.
“Sorry, just decompressing,” I replied, beginning to walk down the hall. Micah fell into step beside me as we headed toward the locker room.
“So? Did Captain Chaos hold it together? You’re in one piece so that’s a plus.”
I gave a noncommittal grunt. “He flirted through half the meeting after you left and looked personally offended by our training system. But yeah. Held it together. You and Coach have the final calendar in your inboxes.”
Micah smirked. “Bobby says he’s always been like that—works hard, plays harder, doesn’t take much seriously.”
She was right. She and Bobby had been together since senior year of college, and he was the free spirit of the two of them. “I don’t expect much keeping to my rules, so my plan is to come down hard on them.”
“Such a military kid, aren’t you?”
I hummed a nonanswer at that. I’m also a definite type A.
There was no way I was going to let Connor and his team derail our inaugural season.
This was too important, a shot at something that was like history being written.
The first professional women’s rugby season was absolutely not about to be thwarted by six-foot-giant rugby players.
No, ma’am, that was not going to happen.
This stadium breathed life into me every time I walked in here.
It had only been open to us for the last four weeks, but that was long enough to stake my claim and feel at home.
We were lucky enough to be outside the quake zone.
Luckier still, we were one of two teams out of the six competing in the legacy cup with our own stadium.
Coach Emery had connections, and that meant investors who believed in her abilities to bring us that trophy.
They’d seen our success without the backing of professional standings, but now they were about to see all of us level up.
No man would change that.
We turned the corner, and the low vibration of voices hit me before we even pushed open the locker room door.
This was our training locker room, one of three locker rooms in the building.
One for away teams, our game day one, but this one was my favorite.
It felt warm and inviting. Inside, most of the squad was sprawled across the shining wooden benches that framed the light green walls.
Our names were printed above each of our spaces, foam rollers littered the dark flooring, chatter filled the silence as my team swapped protein bars and gossip.
But as soon as we walked in, everything went quiet.
“Oh my god, Teddy, was he there?”
My nose scrunched. “He?”
“Connor O’Riley in the flesh?” Delany asked, eyes wide with barely concealed glee. It surprised me because she was our eldest and supposedly wisest of the team… Apparently not when it came to the opposite sex. I refused to believe it was solely for Connor.
“He’s so hot,” Lola muttered dreamily.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend at home?” one of the other girls asked her.
“I do, and she also has the hots for him. Love is love, baby, don’t you know? Besides, that hasn’t stopped Evie either. She’s in love and shit.”
“Connor said my name once at a charity event,” Evie said, with her whole chest puffing out. “I nearly died. He smells insanely good too.”
Micah raised an eyebrow at me, like, here we go.
I stared at them all, deadpan. But not even that made them pause as the squad continued fan-girling. It was a catastrophe. Yeah, okay, he does smell masculine and kind of like he stepped out of a commercial or something. But I’d rather swallow glass than contribute to this chaos.
“I heard he benches, like… triple his bodyweight,” someone said, and I had to suppress a snort. “And he’s got that whole rugged and sexy thing going on. You know?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, turning and opening my locker. “Because nothing says elite athlete like tiny shorts and an overactive jawline.”
Micah snorted, echoing my earlier sentiment.
I grabbed my water bottle and shut the locker a little harder than necessary. “We’re sharing a stadium, not auditioning for The Bachelor, so if you could all just listen for a second and try not to swoon when I mention his name—”
“You mean Connor O’Riley?” Evie knew repeating his name would make my eye twitch, but it didn’t stop her.
The collective group swooned, and I turned to leave. The only reason I didn’t get far was because my assistant coach halted my exit. “Come on now, Captain,” Micah said as a reminder, nodding back to the squad.
I stopped with a sigh and turned back to face the pack of rugby-playing hormone-fueled women possessed by thirst demons. “Right,” I muttered.
They straightened slightly, probably sensing I was about one millisecond away from making them run sprints until lunchtime.
“We’ll be running shared training facilities from now with the Knights until… who knows when. Gym and pitch rotations are alternating, so check the updated schedule on the team calendar app before anyone comes at me about equipment access.”
Evie raised a hand. “Do we get to see them train?”
Micah snorted again. I tried to find the will. Thankfully, I dug deep enough.
“I’m not saying I will watch,” Evie added, “but I could.”
“And I’m saying if I catch anyone trying to spy on Knight training, I’ll assign burpees until your legs forget how to function.”
A few groans sounded. Music to my ears because it meant they heard me.
Someone, probably Evie, muttered something about Connor’s thighs under her breath, and I raised my voice just enough to prove my point.
“That goes double for any of you who confuse mutual pitch access with a dating app. You can drool on your own time. I’ve got enough to manage without checking the turf for puddles.”
That got a real laugh from a few of them.
Micah clapped once. “Alright, that’s enough. Recovery’s over. Let’s move. We’re onto game plays.”
As the squad started gathering their things and heading out, I caught Micah’s glance and the knowing smirk on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, too casually. “Just enjoying the sight of you being completely unfazed by the idea of Connor O’Riley’s biceps in your gym.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’ve got bigger things to focus on.”
“Mmhm,” she said. “Like his glutes.”
I swatted her with my water bottle.
***
As the girls filed out and Micah headed toward the gym, I grabbed my hoodie from the bench and slung it over one shoulder, ready to call it a day. My bed was calling my name and I…
“Teddy.”
Well, there goes that plan.
Coach Emery gestured to me from outside her office, phone still in hand, glasses low on her nose. “You got a minute?”
I pivoted toward her. “Always for you, Coach.”
She nodded toward the quiet end of the hallway. We walked a few steps before she spoke again. “First off—good work handling O’Riley. Micah sang your praises.”
“I appreciate that.”
Then her tone shifted. “I’m not going to beat around the bush with you. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired, as I’m sure you are.”
I nodded.
“Management wants a press release tomorrow to announce everything. There’s going to be a joint PR campaign that launches in the morning. You and O’Riley are the face of it.”
I stopped walking alongside her. “Wait—What?”
“It’s all been approved. Hashtags, media plan, photos, articles,” she said, like that would soften the blow. Social media wasn’t my favorite thing. “Press release starts at eight a.m.”
“Just me and him?”
“You’re both captains and the media want something palatable. Two leaders will likely have more charisma anyway.”
My mouth opened, but I was torn between whether to argue or scream.
More time than I’d ever planned with Connor wasn’t on my bingo card.
Why does the universe think it’s hilarious to force us together?
I’d worked damn hard to minimize all our crossovers in the stadium, but this wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.
Coach Emery continued. “There might be some additional PR, which will be reflected as time out scheduled into your calendar. And I know it’s not what you signed up for.
But this won’t impact your role as captain.
This campaign is bigger than either team now, so we have to use it.
It’s about showing the city we’re unified and making everyone work together.
That we’re committed to being the best teams we can be.
It’ll bring us opportunities. Exposure is good for us, remember? ”
I remembered, alright. I held the air in my lungs until it burned because I knew what she was saying. This would help the stadium, upper management would be pleased, and I would remain within the good graces of everyone if I could get more asses in seats for games.
I exhaled. “What time did you say tomorrow?”
“Eight a.m.”
“I’ll be there.” After I’ve screamed into my pillow.