Chapter 4
Chiara
“Hey! There you are!”
Finley appears out of nowhere the second I step through the doors of the after-party, grabbing my hand like she’s rescuing me from the edge of a cliff.
I blink at the sudden burst of energy. “Hi?”
“Where have you been? I thought you weren’t coming!”
“I wasn’t sure I was,” I admit.
Tonight’s party is being held in one of the newer event spaces overlooking the stadium, and the place is buzzing.
Blue and silver lights wash over the room while music thumps through the speakers, the kind that makes people shout over each other and laugh too loudly.
Huge screens mounted around the room are already replaying highlights from the game.
Every few seconds the crowd erupts again as Tank barrels through a defensive line or Luca kicks a perfect conversion.
The Carolina Rovers absolutely demolished the Twisters tonight.
The PR team is having the time of their lives.
I spot two of them in the corner already editing reels on tablets, while another is filming fans chanting in front of a cardboard cutout of the team mascot—a giant snarling Great Dane wearing a spiked blue collar.
I have to admit, watching rugby is a hell of a lot more fun than I imagined.
There’s something mesmerizing about it.
The sheer size of these men.
The power.
The unexpected grace of bodies that large moving that fast.
Okay, maybe I’m thinking about one athlete in particular.
And yes.
Maybe tonight I dressed with him in mind.
My cheeks warm as I tug lightly at the hem of my skirt.
Finley notices immediately and grins like a shark.
“Oh my God. You look amazing,” she says. “Come on.”
Before I can protest, she’s dragging me across the room.
“Everyone! I found her!”
I barely have time to react before she deposits me into a little cluster of women gathered around a tall cocktail table.
“You know Caro and Dani,” Finley says, pointing.
Caroline smiles warmly while Dani—who I know from the PR office—raises her glass in greeting.
“Hey, have you met Annabeth? She’s married to Luca.”
Annabeth beams at me. “Nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard about you.”
“Hopefully nothing bad,” I say with a laugh.
“Oh, please,” Dani says. “We’re just thrilled someone competent is keeping these maniacs from destroying themselves.”
“Speak for yourself,” Caro adds. “I kind of enjoy the chaos.”
We all laugh.
The conversation flows easily after that.
Drinks appear.
Snacks, too—thank fuck.
Stories get shared.
They tell me about the team, about Consequence, about the insane schedules and the road trips and the weird little traditions the Rovers have developed over the years.
It’s nice.
Really nice.
I hadn’t expected to feel so welcomed.
But slowly, one by one, their men drift over.
Tank wraps an arm around Dani and kisses her temple.
Luca murmurs something in Annabeth’s ear that makes her laugh.
Koa slides in beside Finley, his hand immediately finding hers.
And Coach Dane pulls Carolina off to somewhere more secluded.
Suddenly, I feel like the world’s most awkward extra.
A fifth wheel at a very happy couples’ party.
Which is ridiculous.
I’m a grown woman.
I like my independence.
But something inside me twists anyway.
I hate that feeling.
That small, nagging sense of being left out.
So I paste on a polite smile.
“Well, ladies, I’m going to grab another drink.”
They all nod and wave as I slip away.
I weave through the crowd, the music is louder here near the bar. Players and staff mingle with sponsors and fans, laughter filling the air.
I glance around casually.
Just in case.
But I haven’t seen Noah all night.
And honestly?
I’m an idiot for coming here thinking maybe his flirting had meant something.
Clearly, it didn’t.
He’s probably off celebrating somewhere with people far more interesting than me. Or a woman who matches him a lot better than I ever could.
I look down at my simple wrap dress and feel silly. It’s cute, has tiny little flowers on it.
But it’s not sophisticated. Not something a woman who attracts a man like Noah wears.
I exhale slowly.
“What are you doing here, Chiara?” I mutter to myself.
It’s okay. The dress is fine. None of this matters, I tell myself before the old panic sets in.
“Hi there.”
I turn.
A short, friendly-looking man with pale skin and sandy-colored hair smiles at me.
He’s holding a drink and swaying slightly.
“Hi,” I say cautiously.
“My name’s Thomas. I work with Rugby News. I’m a line editor. Just here cause I work with a team doing a story about the Rovers.”
The stranger explains, and I just nod because okay.
“Oh, um, nice to meet you.”
“So what’s your name and what do you do for the Rovers?”
“I’m Chiara Giardino. I’m the team’s physical therapist.”
His eyes light up.
“Oh wow! So you like… give them massages?”
I blink.
He doesn’t say anything wrong. But he makes it sound off when he says that.
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Seriously though,” he says with a smirk, leaning closer, “I bet you give a great massage.”
My stomach drops.
“You know, I’ve got this lower lumbar thing going on,” he continues, tapping his back. “Maybe you could give me a rubdown.”
Okay. Wow.
He’s definitely had more than one drink.
“Oh boy,” I mutter. “Yeah, um, no thanks, Thomas,” I say firmly. “Excuse me.”
I try to step past him.
But he grabs my wrist.
“Hey, come on now,” he says. “It’s a fair offer. I’ll even pay your rate.”
His fingers tighten.
I pull back, heart suddenly hammering.
“What’s a girl like you charge, anyway?”
“Let go of me.”
“What? Don’t be like that—”
And then—he disappears.
Or rather, a wall steps between us.
A very large.
Very familiar.
Very human wall.
“Get your hands off the lady, bucko,” a deep voice growls. “Or I’ll bloody fucking remove them.”
Oh shit.
It’s Noah.
He’s defending me and oh my fuck, I think I just ruined my panties.