The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out—not hiding out—in my room. First I took a nap. Then I got up and opened the windows to let in some fresh air. I ran a bath and put on a chill-out CD. After a long soak in the tub with some soothing essential oils, I felt a hundred times better equipped to face dinner.

We ate all our meals in the spacious communal dining hall, so there was a good likelihood Sean would be there. I blow-dried my hair, put on a cozy, over-sized woolen jumper and some leggings, then headed out to find Broderick. He was in the lounge area chatting with a couple women who were all BFFs and had come for a relaxation weekend. Broderick had a really amiable personality, which meant people tended to naturally gravitate toward him. He was just plain cool, from the way he walked, to the way he spoke, to the effortlessly styled clothes he wore.

“Hey,” I said, doing a little wave as I joined the group. The women all chirped their hellos.

“Lucy, where’ve you been all day?” Rick asked, coming to stand next to me.

“I just felt like taking some time to myself. Can we talk?”

“Sure, I’ll catch you all later,” he said to the women before standing and offering me his arm. We walked toward the dining hall and I let out a slow breath.

“So, do you remember the guy I was telling you about from back home?”

“The prick who plays rugby with your brother? Yeah.”

“He’s here right now. At the retreat.”

My friend sputtered a laugh. “For real?”

I grimaced. “I might have made the mistake of technically inviting him. It wasn’t a genuine invite. If anything, it was a sarcastic invite, but now he’s here and I’m kind of freaking out.”

“So some dude you’ve got a crush on is here. Big deal. You’re Lucy Fitzpatrick, you don’t get fazed by the small stuff.”

“I do not have a crush on him,” I argued. And little did he know, I was fazed by the small stuff. It was the whole reason I was so obsessed with meditation and finding inner peace. Otherwise, I’d probably have a nervous breakdown. Broderick shot me a wry look.

“Man, you want him bad.”

“I don’t.”

“Just let him bone you already.”

“Shut up, I mean it,” I hissed.

Rick laughed softly. “Be honest, you’ve been dreaming about weddings and babies for weeks, haven’t you?”

“What? No,” I scoffed, responding honestly. “Sean Cassidy is the last guy I’d ever want to marry.”

“Oh, I see.” Rick’s eyes narrowed, like he was assessing me. “No weddings and babies. You just want his hands up your skirt.”

“I’m not wearing a skirt.”

“Sorry. My bad. I shouldn’t have been so nebulous. You want to skip the missionary position and do it doggy style.”

I scowled, flushing red because he was so right, and my words escaped in a mortified rush, “I kind of hate you right now.”

Broderick was still laughing when we reached the dining hall and found a table, but thankfully he let the matter drop. Meanwhile, I was suffering from hot flashes.

For dinner we had the option of quinoa and avocado salad or a superfood soup medley, so I concentrated on making my selection. I opted for the quinoa with a side of hummus and raw veggies. Rick got the same and we chowed down in tense silence.

Well, I was tense. He was smirking.

I was still annoyed with him for teasing me about Sean when a familiar shadow fell over our table.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked and Rick glanced up. I focused intently on my food, ignoring the blooming heat low in my belly.

“Seat’s not taken.” Rick shrugged, motioning to the chair then holding out his hand when Sean was seated. “I’m Broderick, and you must be Sean.”

“That’s right. I take it my reputation precedes me.”

“Something like that,” Rick replied in a friendly manner.

The chair next to mine moved as Sean adjusted himself, his knee knocking mine under the table. Stupid long-legged oaf. I crunched away on my salad, silent as a mouse, while Rick initiated conversation with Sean. He just wasn’t the sort of bloke to sit in awkward silences. Broderick could find something to talk about with anyone, from your grandmother to the man who came to clean the windows of your house.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning,” Sean answered. “I’m really loving the setting. It’s very beautiful.”

I glanced at him now, wondering if his statement was true. Sean didn’t strike me as the type to appreciate the beauty of nature. Or maybe I was just being cynical, allowing the way he made me feel and how easily he could push my buttons, to cloud my judgment. Maybe my loyalty to my brother was interfering with how I saw him.

“It’s definitely pretty. We’ve been here for almost a week, haven’t we, Luce?” Rick kicked my leg under the table. “I don’t think either one of us wants to leave.”

I glanced between the two of them before realizing I was taking forever to answer. “No, um, no, we don’t want to leave.”