5. Chapter 5
Seren
Dropping Cai off had taken longer than planned.
I knew it would. New classrooms, new teachers, and about twenty extra reassuring hugs that started the moment we stepped through the daycare doors and didn’t stop until he was satisfied that I would, in fact, be returning later to retrieve him.
That, coupled with the fact that Nate insisted on coming with me this morning, and all staff’s eyes went heart shaped, it was stressful, to say the least.
Eventually, his teacher coaxed him toward the toys, and I managed to slip out with one last hug and a promise that we’d get ice cream after I’d finished training.
I needed to decompress after that, so I told Nate to drive ahead, and I would walk the two blocks from the daycare to the stadium. Since I didn’t have a car, one thing Nate wanted to make sure was that everything was within walking distance for me and Cai.
As I entered the grounds, my heart fluttered. I hadn’t been here since the meeting with Teddy Sloane and Coach Emery, which was months ago now.
It was just as big as I remembered, except now it had both the Valkyries and the Knights logos on the doors. My focus didn’t waver from the Valkyries logo. That was my team now; I was a part of that.
Awareness bubbled in my stomach that this was the first time I’d stepped into a proper team environment since Cai was born, and no amount of running before sunrise or lifting weights in the corner of my living room while a toddler attempted to climb me like a jungle gym could completely replicate what real training felt like.
Fitness wasn’t the same as rugby. Fitness didn’t involve timing runs with teammates or reading the shape of a defensive line or taking a hit at full speed and getting straight back up again.
I’d spent the last few months doing my best, trying to build back a base level of fitness, making sure I was training my hands to hold the ball again, quick grips, and putting my muscles and lungs through some brutal cardio where I could.
But today would be the first time in a long time that my body had to remember how to train to play rugby.
The glass doors opened easily, the scent of eucalyptus engulfing me as I stepped inside.
Voices echoed down the corridor ahead of me, and I followed the sound, the quiet thud of my shoes against the floor while I adjusted the strap of my kit bag on my shoulder.
Nerves tickled beneath my skin, but I kept my head held high.
When I pushed open the locker room door, a few heads lifted in my direction, curiosity flickering across a couple of faces before recognition settled in.
“Seren?”
Evie Evans. I remembered her because of her blonde-and-pink hair. She crossed the room almost immediately, her grin wide as she wrapped me in a quick hug that felt easy and genuine in a way that made my shoulders relax.
“Sorry, I’m a hugger. I should’ve asked first, but here we are,” she said, still hugging me. “And now it’s weird because I’m talking to you and not letting you go.” When her arms dropped, her cheeks were stained pink. “Sorry about that, but hi.”
I smiled, awkwardly waved, and then my own embarrassment became something that might just suffocate me.
“Hi, I’m Seren,” I said, then laughed too loudly.
“You already knew that because you said my name.” I tried to inhale, but it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, and a weird chortling sound escaped instead. Oh god, it all needed to stop.
“Come on,” Evie said, looping her arm loosely through mine and steering me farther into the room. “We’ll do this properly before you combust.”
“This is Lola.” She nodded to a girl perched on the bench, tying her boots with quick, efficient movements.
Lola glanced up, dark hair pulled into rows of braids, her expression softening slightly when she saw me.
A couple more girls hovered nearby, offering quick introductions—names that I’d seen on the website and socials. I was a little star-struck by all of them, honestly.
“Seren, you’re here.”
I turned at the sound of my name again, this time finding Teddy Sloane coming in the door behind me.
That was one name and face I absolutely wouldn’t forget.
Sweat coated my palms, my underarms, and the back of my neck as I tried to summon words to respond.
She was a legend. Even when I was in college, people knew her name.
She was part of the reason we were here; the industry listened to her and that mattered.
I coughed and sucked in air to make sure something would happen. “Hi.”
Her smile was quick but bright. “Glad you’re all ready to go,” she said assessing my training kit. “Micah wants us all on pitch in two minutes.”
I nodded, even though my pulse had climbed somewhere into my throat.
This was it. No more preparation. No more guessing if I still had it. It was go time.
***
One foot in front of the other was something I learned before my first birthday.
And yet here I was at twenty-four, staring down the seemingly endless stretch of corridor that led toward the physio rooms, unable to perform that mundane task.
Training had been hard. Coach told me not to take it too far, but I had a point to prove—I was worth their time and money.
My lungs had kept up, thank god.
My legs, arms, stomach, and well, everything else…were currently filing a formal complaint.
I forced myself forward again, the intense ache spreading through my quads and making every step slightly dramatic, which was deeply irritating, considering I’d just spent two hours pretending I was completely fine in front of my new teammates.
At least no one had seen the moment during the final drill block when I briefly questioned every life choice that had brought me to this exact pitch and almost threw up everywhere.
Small mercies and all.
The door to my salvation was almost within reach, and the thought of ten minutes on a massage table was currently the only thing motivating my body to continue cooperating.
I moved one more step, and as luck would have it, a door on my right swung open and my forehead connected with a solid chest.
“Oh my—”
The words died halfway out of my mouth as I bounced back a step and looked up at a face I knew too well.
Jake Ledger was just as impressively handsome as he’d been last week at the coffee shop.
His hair was messy and damp, the usual blond replaced with darkness of what I assumed to be sweat, going by the sheen on his neck.
All while those light-blue eyes burned into me and ignited some kind of kryptonite.
Surprise flickered across his face, his forehead creasing before something warmer settled in its place.
“Well, well, well,” he said slowly, with a crooked smile, dimples popping out to greet me too. “If it isn’t my favorite attempted truck thief.”
The scoff that left my lips was loud and unfiltered, yet my body flushed at the comment. “Please. I wasn’t trying to steal your truck.”
“No, you’re right.” He chuckled. “You had a cute mini accomplice who left fingerprints everywhere. You’d both make terrible thieves.”
Laughter crawled up my throat in response to his, though this reminded me immediately that laughing required abdominal engagement I simply did not have right now.
His gaze dropped briefly, taking in the way I was leaning awkwardly. But then it turned to heat when his eyes swept all over my body with a not-so-subtle nibble on his bottom lip.
“I must be trippin’ because I somehow materialized the woman of my dreams to be in my stadium, as a Valkyrie too. Shit.” He grinned devilishly, taking in my training kit I was still wearing. “I must be the luckiest guy ever.”
The burning sensation moved from the pain in my legs to my entire body. I was in far too vulnerable of a state to be flirted with. Unfortunately, Jake didn’t seem remotely concerned about my current physical limitations.
“Well at least one of us is feeling lucky today.”
His laugh was deep. “Train too hard?”
“Drills took me out.” I huffed.
“Ah.” His grin widened slightly, sympathy dancing in his eyes. “Coach Em doesn’t mess around.”
“A lot of this is self-inflicted. I was overenthusiastic.”
He assessed me, and there was a beat where neither of us moved, the corridor suddenly feeling narrower than it actually was.
I couldn’t let go of that other little tidbit of information he’d let slip. “Do you often dream about strangers you meet in coffee shops?”
His mouth tilted at one corner, completely unrepentant.
“Only the memorable ones.”
I highly doubted that. My deep dive of him told me that he was the king of casual hookups, PR relationships, and wild behavior.
He was a certifiable rugby playboy, the ones Nate always warned me against. The irony of my life was that it was a finance major who managed to impregnate me after all, and no one ever warned me about those.
“Okay, Casanova, I’ve gotta get myself into that massage room.
It was good seeing you again.” I decided my body needed relief more than any more time with him at this very moment.
I shifted to step around him, which immediately reminded me of the pain I’d be in later tonight too, with a toddler in tow. I could sob at the thought.
“Hold on,” he said, one hand lifting slightly but not touching me. “I still haven’t gotten your name.”
I paused, then looked back at him.
“Huh,” I said. “My brother really didn’t tell you?” I assumed Nate would’ve filled him in by now.
He huffed an amused noise, palming the back of his neck. “Who’s your brother?”
I tilted my head, assessing to see if he was messing with me. “Nate Davis?”
Jake’s grin froze, his eyes flicking over my face as his own paled in front of me. “Nate,” he repeated.
“Yes?”
He swallowed, glancing down the hall as though he might materialize, tattooed and furious. “My Nate?”
I arched an eyebrow. “You own him?”
“No.” He laughed but it was weak. “You’re Nate’s sister.”
“I am.”
“The sister?”
“I’m assuming he only has one.” I grunted through a shift in posture.
Jake’s mouth opened and closed. “Well, that’s…not what I expected to happen today.”
My body was lurching toward the physio room, desperate for relief, but I didn’t want to seem rude.
“Seren,” he purred, and my legs weakened for entirely different reasons. That deep rumble, the rasp that hit the S—yeah, I could understand why his reputation proceeded him.
“That’s me.” I shrugged, going for nonchalant, even if I felt anything but.
“Did you know who I was when we met last week?”
“I had a feeling, yeah, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You were being kind and helping feed my son’s truck fascination. It felt weird to be like ‘oh hey, I recognize your thighs from my brother’s Instagram post one time.’”
Heat rushed into my face so fast I could practically feel it blooming all the way up to my hairline. Shit, why did my brain not connect to my mouth?
His entire face lit up with delighted understanding that made my stomach drop straight through the floor.
“You recognized my thighs over my face?” he repeated, far too pleased with himself.
“That is not what I meant,” I rushed out, which unfortunately only made him grin wider. “In fact, let’s move on.”
He leaned his weight against the wall, folding his arms like he had just settled in for the most entertaining conversation of his afternoon.
“No, no,” he said mildly. “Let’s stay right here for a second.”
“Someone save me,” I muttered to the ceiling.
“You brought my thighs into this conversation, Seren. I feel like I deserve clarification.”
I dragged a hand over my cheek, briefly considering the logistics of simply melting into the floor and living there permanently.
“What I meant,” I said carefully, enunciating each word like I was explaining something to a particularly stubborn toddler, “is that I’ve seen you play rugby. With my brother. On a field. Where, unfortunately for everyone involved, rugby shorts are very short.”
That only made him laugh. Not a quick chuckle either, but a deep, warm sound that rolled out of him like he was genuinely enjoying himself.
Feeling hot all over, I gestured toward the physio room door behind him. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’d rather be in that room now.”
I started toward the door, grateful that the distance was only a few steps this time. Just as I reached it, his voice followed me again.
“Seren?”
My pulse stuttered at his voice. I glanced back over my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
That crooked, dimpled smile was back.
“For the record, I’m pretty happy you noticed my thighs.”
“Hard to miss when you’re always in tiny shorts.” I stared at him, biting back a smile at how easy he was to talk to. Even if my brain was hellbent on social demise, it was nice to talk to another guy who wasn’t my brother.