Chapter 23-Tank
The sound of cleats on turf echoes through the indoor paddock as the team wraps up drills.
My lungs burn in the best way, sweat dripping down my back beneath my training kit.
I needed this.
Needed the movement.
The focus.
The brotherhood of the team to burn off the coiled tension that’s been riding me since I left Dani’s place this morning.
Not because anything was wrong.
But because everything felt too right.
I want to marry this woman. Claim her in the loudest way to the whole damn world.
But she needs some time to trust in this, in us, and I’m doing my best to give it to her.
I grab a towel off the sideline rack, rub it over my face, and try not to think about how good she looked in nothing but my shirt, standing in her tiny kitchen, trying not to meet my eyes while I kissed the breath from her lungs.
I almost make it to the locker room without thinking about peeling her sweats down over her hips and bending her over the table again.
Almost.
Then I hear her voice.
Light. Controlled. Professional.
And not talking to me.
“Fin, I don’t know if I’m the right face for this kind of piece—”
“Oh, shut it, you’re perfect,” Finley says from her perch just outside the media wing.
She’s waving a tablet like it’s a wand.
“America is obsessed with you right now. They love that you’re smart, relatable, and not trying to be anything but you.”
“I’m not trying to be anything at all,” Dani mutters.
“Exactly. That’s why it’s working. And, more importantly, that’s why the network reached out. They want you for the sit-down segment, a real inside look at the Rovers! The public will eat this up.”
I pause in the tunnel, just out of sight, sweat cooling rapidly on my skin.
“What network?” she asks.
“SportsNation.”
That makes me blink. They don’t do fluff.
“They’re sending Ellie Vance,” Finley continues. “You know—blonde, bombshell, very into rugby since dating that All Blacks fly-half last year?”
“Oh, that Ellie,” Dani says. I hear the frown in her voice.
“Yeah, she wants to do a mini docuseries about us. The Rovers. A whole ‘rugby takes America’ kind of thing. First up? #SnowedInWithARover—starring you and our very own Tank.”
My jaw ticks.
Starring?
I’m a rugby player.
Not a damn actor.
But if Ellie Vance thinks she can roll in here and turn Dani into some viral girl-next-door soundbite—no fucking way.
“Let me talk to Hudson first,” Dani says, quieter now. “He might not want to—”
“Babe,” Finley cuts her off. “The man would follow you off a cliff. He’s already trending with you, and this piece is basically PR gold. If you don’t want to do it, fine. But let him decide before you come up with an excuse.”
I’ve heard enough.
I round the corner.
Dani’s eyes widen when she sees me, cheeks going pink, like she knows I just heard everything.
Finley just raises a brow. “Speak of the devil.”
“Hello, ladies,” I say, voice low, rougher than I mean it to be.
Dani fidgets. “How long were you—”
“Long enough.”
Her mouth opens to defend herself—like she thinks I’m mad. I’m not.
Not at her.
But my gaze cuts to my sister-in-law, Finley. “What exactly would this ‘docuseries’ require?”
Finley shrugs.
“Some interviews. Maybe a few behind-the-scenes clips. Ellie’s planning on doing a soft focus called Romancing the Rovers with your whole snowed-in for Thanksgiving weekend as a hook, then pivoting it to the team.
Training. Community events. Your and Dani’s story would just humanize the team a little and make it fun. ”
“I see, and what does Dani want?” I ask, eyes on her now.
She swallows.
Her lips part.
But she hesitates.
“I don’t know yet,” Dani says. “That’s why I was going to talk to you.”
I nod.
“Then talk to me. In private.”
Finley lifts her hands, backing away like we’re about to arm wrestle.
“Don’t kill each other. Or do. Just let me mic it first.”
She disappears inside the sound booth.
Dani crosses her arms, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know this is blindsiding you. Believe me, it shocked me, too. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t plan to get photographed by paparazzi—”
“What are you talking about, Sweetheart?”
She clicks a few buttons on the laptop and shows me what’s been happening.
Fuck.
Someone found us in the cabin. They took photos.
“Look, Dani, I hate that our privacy was invaded, but I am not ashamed of us.”
“You’re not? And you don’t think I did this for some like claim to fame, right?” She winces.
“Of course, I know you didn’t do that, Love.”
“I’m not trying to use you, Hudson, I swear.”
“I know that too.”
“So then what’s with the face?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
I step in close, just enough to make her look up at me.
“It’s the idea of some flashy network rolling in and trying to spin a story that doesn’t belong to them.”
Her breath catches.
“And what story is that?”
“Our story,” I tell her.
She stares at me for a beat. Then two.
And then her lips twitch.
“But you do want to be in the docuseries, right? For the team?” she asks.
I pretend groan. Truthfully, I’m not for or against it.
“Okay, I’ll do it, but only if there’s a kissing clause,” I tell Dani, bringing a smile to her sweet face.
“Gross,” Finley calls from the booth. “Save it for the behind-the-scenes reel.”
We both laugh, and then because I can, I kiss my girl, ignoring the fake gagging sounds coming from my sister-in-law.