Chapter 14
Chiara
Another week has gone by.
Spring has officially arrived in Consequence, and there’s—no exaggeration—about an inch of yellow pollen covering everything outside.
It looks like snow.
Only worse.
Because snow doesn’t make your nose itch like crazy.
And when my nose itches, my eyes turn red.
When that happens, I look less like a competent medical professional and more like someone who just lost a fight with a swarm of bees.
Normally I’d be miserable.
But ever since Noah showed up with some miracle allergy pills he insisted I try, I’ve been completely symptom-free.
Which is confusing.
Because it’s the sort of thoughtful thing someone does when they actually care about you.
And that’s not supposed to be part of our arrangement.
Still, once the sneezing stopped, things went right back to business.
Or rather, pleasure.
Seven days of trysts that have left my brain completely scrambled.
Because apparently when Noah Walker decides he wants you—when a six-foot-something rugby player with shoulders like a refrigerator decides he’s into you—life stops making any kind of sense.
My routines?
Gone.
My carefully maintained emotional boundaries?
Vaporized.
And my previously very manageable thoughts about sex?
Utterly obliterated.
Our time together has been great—shockingly educational, really.
Physically?
I feel fantastic.
Mentally and emotionally?
I am a walking disaster.
Because this was supposed to be a fling.
A casual arrangement.
Two consenting adults relieving tension and moving on with their lives.
Except Noah did not receive that memo.
Not when he kisses me goodbye after practice like I belong to him.
Not when he shows up with coffee.
Not when he texts me dumb memes about scrums and pretends he doesn’t care whether I laugh.
But when I start to doubt or question it?
When I try to bring it up?
It’s right back into smexy fun times again—and there go my brains.
Which is why I am currently sitting in a fluffy white robe at a spa with a group of women who call themselves—God help us all—the Lady Rovers.
It’s Carolina’s fault.
She started this whole circle of friends ritual.
Finley loved it.
Annabeth thought it was hysterical.
Dani is all in.
And now, apparently, it’s a thing.
The spa itself is gorgeous—soft music, eucalyptus steam, lemon water with floating cucumbers like we’re all delicate forest nymphs instead of women who spend most of their time around sweaty rugby players.
Carolina is stretched out beside me, getting a facial.
Finley is scrolling through her phone, probably scheduling, or checking on her social media kingdom.
Annabeth is sipping champagne like she belongs in a magazine spread.
And Dani—Tank’s wife—is watching me with the sharp attention of someone who knows exactly when a person is about to crack.
Which means I am in trouble.
“Okay,” Finley says finally, lowering her phone. “You’ve been staring at that cucumber water like it cursed your firstborn for the last ten minutes.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
“You are not fine,” Dani says.
Annabeth nods.
“You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where a man is driving a woman crazy, and she’s pretending she doesn’t have feelings,” Carolina says lazily.
I groan.
“Can we not?”
“No,” Finley says cheerfully. “We cannot not.”
Dani leans forward.
“So. Let’s talk about Noah.”
I immediately sit up straighter.
“There is nothing to talk about.”
Three pairs of eyebrows go up.
Annabeth snorts.
“Oh, honey, I doubt that man is nothing to talk about. Come on. Give us a nod if we’re close.”
She holds up her hands at a distance that, to be fair, is actually pretty accurate.
I nod.
She holds up her hand for hi-fives.
I shake my head and try not to laugh because if I do that, I might also start crying.
“Seriously, Chiara, what’s up? I mean, that man looks at you like a starving wolf staring at a steak.”
Carolina hums.
“It’s actually very romantic,” Dani agrees.
“It’s terrifying,” I correct.
“Why?” Finley asks.
“Because,” I say, waving my hands in frustration, “he’s Noah Walker.”
“And?”
“And I’m just me.”
They all stare at me.
I sigh.
“Look, I know what this looks like. Big, hot rugby player. Curvy physical therapist. Everyone thinks it’s cute.”
“Newsflash, it is cute,” Dani says.
“But you don’t understand,” I whisper.
And there it is.
The thing I’ve been trying not to think about.
The thing that made me swear I’d never date an athlete again.
“Honey, if you wanna talk, go on. We’re all friends here and we want to help,” Caro says quietly.
I stare down at my hands.
“I’ve done this before. See, my ex was a professional athlete.”
The room goes quiet.
“He was charming,” I continue. “Popular. Everyone loved him. And, well, he loved just about everyone back.”
“Uh-oh,” Carolina murmurs.
“Yeah. Exactly.”
I swallow.
“He cheated constantly.”
Finley’s face darkens.
“Like he had an affair or two?” Dani asks carefully.
“No.”
My laugh is bitter.
“He cheated like constantly. Like it was a hobby. Even after he proposed.”
Annabeth mutters something in Spanish that sounds extremely violent.
“And the worst part?” I say softly.
“There’s something worse?” Finley asks.
“Yeah, because he made it out to be my fault. Said I was too busy to pay him enough attention because I took my job seriously. And it was like he punished me for it by sleeping with readily available women. And that just made me feel awful, invisible. Like I didn’t matter.”
That confession sits heavy in the room.
“For two years I convinced myself I was imagining it,” I continue. “That I was being insecure. That if I was just prettier, or sexier, or thinner, maybe he wouldn’t have strayed.”
My voice trails off.
Dani reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“But Noah isn’t him,” she says gently.
“I know that logically.”
“But?”
“But logic doesn’t stop my brain from thinking this is all temporary.”
Finley leans forward.
“Let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“Has Noah ever looked at another woman since he met you?”
I pause.
“Oh, um, I don’t—I mean how would I know?”
“Well, I’m married to the coach and Dane has been barking like a mad dog about your guy’s head being in the clouds since you started working for the team,” Caro says with a sly grin. “And he’s never complained about that before. Trust me.”
Finley nods as if that proves anything. But still, I don’t know.
“Has Noah ever made you feel invisible?” Finley asks.
I blink.
“No.”
“Has he ever acted like he’s embarrassed of you?”
“Well, no.”
“Has he ever mentioned another woman to you?”
I pause.
“No.”
Carolina grins.
“Chiara, that man practically glows when you walk in.”
I groan again, covering my face. But there’s no denying the tiny spark of hope lighting inside of me.
“What is this? Point out how stupid I’ve been day? You know, this is like the worst pep talk ever.”
A few laughs. A few more sniffs and I look up into four pairs of sympathetic eyes.
“That’s because this isn’t a pep talk,” Finley says. “This is the beginning of a plan.”
Uh-oh.
I lower my hands slowly.
“I don’t like that tone.”
Dani grins.
“You’re about to.”
Annabeth taps the table thoughtfully.
“We leave tomorrow for a week-long tournament.”
My stomach flips.
Right.
The team is traveling for a full week.
Training.
Games.
Media.
And it all ends with a massive charity gala.
“And?” I ask cautiously.
Finley smiles like a villain in a romcom.
“And you and Noah will be stuck together the entire time.”
My eyes widen.
“No.”
“Yes. It’s the perfect opportunity to determine if the man is serious about you or just playing hide the salami.”
“Hide the what? Oh, my God. Anyway, no. Absolutely not. We are not doing that.”
Carolina laughs.
“Oh, yes. And this is going to be fun.”
Dani leans closer.
“Think of it like an experiment.”
“What kind of experiment?”
“A test,” Finley says.
“To see if your ‘non-relationship’ survives a full week together.”
Annabeth raises her champagne glass.
“And if it doesn’t?”
Carolina grins.
“Then congratulations.”
“You’ve officially fallen for the team’s hooker.”
I groan and sink deeper into my robe.
Because the worst part?
They might be right.
And that possibility is way more terrifying than Noah Walker’s very enthusiastic approach to physical therapy.