Chapter 18
Connor
Dinner was fine.
Well, fine in the sense that there was no drama, and Teddy didn’t stab me with her fork. A win in my eyes.
But it was also clear she wasn’t quite herself.
She barely touched her food. I kept half my attention on the conversations around us and the other half on her.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice how often she stiffened, how often she deflected, how often she swallowed words I knew she wanted to say out loud.
When dessert was cleared, staff opened the terrace doors and encouraged everyone to stretch their legs, mingle, and enjoy a drink. The room relaxed instantly. Jackets unbuttoned. Voices loosened. People spread into smaller groups near tall standing tables overlooking the bay.
But Teddy slipped away the moment we were released, stopping at a table near Coach Emery.
I didn’t blame her; these types of events were tough, and she’d have to endure a few more characters in the room tonight who were Knight supporters.
I’d heard everything Talbot said to her earlier, and I’m not sure if me stepping in made it worse or not, but I was prepared to either way.
I moved through the crowd until I spotted someone worth talking to.
Richard Hale was near the railing, always in the center of a small orbit of people, always in demand.
But he waved me over the moment our eyes met.
Former player. Now a high-level investor with a reputation for actually giving a shit about grassroots sports.
“Connor,” he greeted, shaking my hand with genuine warmth. “You surviving?”
“Tonight has been great so far,” I said, even though all we’d done was eat. This was the important part.
He chuckled. “I’m too old to pretend these dinners are fun.”
Smirking, I grabbed a short glass of water from the high table between us and downed it.
Richard turned slightly to give me his full attention. “I’ve heard there’s interest from Ireland,” he said.
I exhaled slowly. I wasn’t surprised he knew, considering he was a very well-connected man. “Yeah. Nothing’s set in stone yet.”
Richard raised an eyebrow, twirling his amber drink in his hand. “Tell me more.”
I shifted my grip on the water, feeling suddenly aware of how tightly I was holding it. “There’s interest,” I said carefully. “That’s all it is right now. A few conversations. Nothing that means anything yet.”
“Mmh.” Richard didn’t push, just waited. “And what do you make of it?”
The question caught me off guard. Most people already had their answer lined up — O’Riley, Ireland, legacy, of course he’ll go. It was that assumption that had me saying, “I think… it’s a big thing,” I said simply. “I need time to think about everything.”
Richard watched me with a steady kind of attention that made it hard to hide behind rehearsed lines. “You don’t sound eager.”
I let out a slow breath. “I’m not sure eager is the right word.
It’s…” I stopped, searching for something that didn’t feel like betrayal.
“I want to play for my country, for my heritage, for my grandad…” I paused because there was truth in that.
I did want those things, but I just wasn’t sure it was my dream anymore.
Silence stretched between us.
“But?” he coaxed.
“I love being here,” I said quietly. “With the Knights. With this team. It’s mine, and I’ve worked hard for it.” The admission was true, and it seemed to register with him.
“I understand that.” He nodded. “When I was still playing, the game was everything to me. But there comes a moment when you start asking whether it’s just what you love or what you’re going to build your life on. Those aren’t always the same thing.”
A faint tremor rolled through me at the truth of his words.
After a moment, Richard added, “If you ever want to talk about options, what you might want your life to look like, I’d be open to it.”
I met his eyes. “I appreciate that.”
The noise of the room swelled back in around us. I spotted Teddy in the corner, noting the tension I’d clocked earlier was gone from her shoulders, replaced by that loose, grounded confidence she slipped into when she forgot she was being watched.
I didn’t realize how obvious I’d been staring at her until Richard said, “She’s going to be a big name; you’re lucky she’s on your arm tonight.”
He gave an easy grin and flames licked up my neck at the assumption.
“Oh, we’re not together,” I said weakly. “We went to college together, and now we share the stadium, but we’re colleagues.”
Richard gave me a knowing smile that I wasn’t sure of. “That’s how my wife and I met, in college.”
Jesus, was I sweating? My throat felt thick as I thought of ways to deny that there was anything between Teddy and I, but I came up empty.
Richard continued. “No matter your situation, you’re doing well in the media together. My daughter attends St. Brigid’s—the girls’ school in the city. They’ve been wanting female athlete representation for a long time now. Can I tempt you both to drop in there soon?”
I didn’t need to think too hard about it. I was already interested. Then, I pictured Teddy in a room full of girls who admired her and thought about how that could mean something to her too. “For training?” I asked.
He glanced toward Teddy, then back to me. “A Q supporting us.”
Kaplan’s face dropped several shades in color as his beady eyes darted around the room, finding all attention was on him.
“I—Well—I didn’t intend—”
“You did,” she said gently, which somehow landed harder. “But you should know that me and my team are strong, resilient, and every single one of us puts in the hours and effort it takes to be worthy of the stadium. You might want to consider investing in the future of rugby, because it’s female.”
Murmurs traveled through the crowd. Kaplan flushed and quiet.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Kaplan,” Teddy added, lifting her glass with a calmness that did not match the fire she’d just unleashed, “I believe there are other conversations I’d rather be having.”
Teddy turned away from him without missing a beat, posture relaxed, expression composed—like she hadn’t just dismantled a man twice her age. She glided through the small group of people with ease.
And I was absolutely not hiding the grin tugging at the corner of my mouth as I followed her.
Or at least, I tried to. Waiters walked in my path, and I edged around them, careful not to knock their trays when another guest drifted across, cutting off my line of sight for a second as she moved farther down the hall.
I made it through the final cluster of people and exhaled, increasing my pace. “Teddy,” I called out as she wove through a doorway.