Page 28

Chapter 28

It's Not Working

Isaiah

“ T wo pitchers of Guinness,” our server says, setting them down with a thud followed by five clean pint glasses. “Anything else?”

“No,” I say.

“Thank you so much!” Robyn smiles, and carefully pours herself a glass. She’s sitting across from me and when our server turns away, she leans a little closer. “Who orders pitchers of Guinness? This isn’t the proper way to serve it.” She shakes her head.

“We wanted the same thing,” I shrug, taking a glass. “And I know my brothers. This is what we drink at an Irish bar. And since when are you that picky about beer?” I huff. “I seem to remember you doing keg stands in college.”

She lowers her head to watch the light brown cascade of nitrogen give way to black. “That was different,” she smiles. “I’m a classy lady now.”

“Says the woman who recently punched a man in a nightclub.” I grin. “You broke his nose by the way. Good hit. Cheers.”

Her eyes narrow, but she smiles and clinks my glass before we both tap the bottom of the pint on the wooden table and drink.

The creamy foam of the beer sticks to her upper lip and she darts her tongue out to wipe it away. “Since you brought up Friday night, can we talk about what happened before your brothers get here? ”

Is there a pile of sand I can stick my head into around here? Be cool. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s her first question? If I’m okay? The fact that she thinks of my feelings first pulls at my heartstrings.

“I shouldn't have been there, but…” I pause, studying her reactions. “Watching you two together was… incredible.” A tiny smile plays at the corner of her mouth.

“Dell kind of pushed some buttons… said some things.”

“He did, but I don’t know. I deserved it. And I liked it.”

“I liked it too,” she smiles. “Maybe next time—”

“Robyn, you know there can’t be a next time. Not right now at least. I’m not going anywhere, though.”

“But you do have feelings for me?”

It’s one thing for Dell to force me to admit my feelings while using lust and shame to control me. It’s another thing to freely admit them in the light of day, of my own volition. It’s so much harder. My plan for us is not shaping up the way I intended, but I never factored in Dell either. But she knows now, and she wants me to be honest.

So I won’t lie to her. For the first time ever, and with the amp in my heart turned to eleven, I admit it. “I do have feelings for you.”

The sharp inhale and twinkle in her eye are like a reward for my honesty. What’s even better is when she places her hand over mine. The urge to skip like a child with her hand in mine erupts from the small gesture.

“Birdie!” a low voice sings, and in a flash we retract our hands. Rafael walks through the door, bright afternoon sunshine pours into the windowless bar before the door closes behind him. Robyn and I are both in clean athletic wear, mine now a little damp from anxiety sweat; Rafael in comparison, strides in looking like the picture of a businessman about to relax as he unfastens the top two button of his dress shirt. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” he says, leaning in and giving her a tight hug. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” she smiles, her demeanor shifting from our heart-to-heart. I let out a deep breath at the quick change in conversation. I’ve never been more thankful to see Rafael. “Your soon-to-be brother-in-law ordered pitchers of Guinness.”

“Pitchers?” he asks, sitting down next to her and taking a glass. “Uncultured swine.”

“Alright,” I grumble.

“How's Ang?” she asks Raf.

“Great,” he says with a toothy grin. “She took a long maternity leave and she’ll be going back to work in September. I think she’s really looking forward to it.”

“Is she home with the twins right now?”

“No, on Tuesday afternoons my moms watch the kids and she and Cora stir up mischief.”

Robyn giggles. “Good for them.”

“Are they still trying to buy that sixty-acre plot of land?” I ask him.

“Yes,” he groans. “They keep talking about getting pigs. Cora drew up the plans.” He shrugs and takes a drink.

“Are you talking about Angie?” Dane asks by way of greeting and then leans in to give Robyn a hug, too. “Hey, Birdie. Good to see you.”

“You too! Didn’t feel like changing out of your scrubs?”

“It’s been a long day,” Dane sighs, looking down at his black scrubs covered in animal hair. “Ignore me.”

“Easy enough,” I say.

“What brings you to our happy hour, Birdie?” Dane smiles. “And who the fuck ordered Guinness in a pitcher?”

Robyn and Rafael both point a finger at me.

“Figures,” he mutters, but pours himself a beer anyway.

Robyn grins and then turns her head toward me. “I need to have a chat here with your brother about his coaching style.” Oh thank God. I mean, I didn't think she would open our dirty laundry for my brothers to see, but I was sweating.

“What about it?” Rafael asks. Suddenly I don’t love having an audience for this.

“Who are you trying to be?” she asks simply.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen this side of you before.”

“Well, I’ve never been your coach before.”

She tsk s. “See, I don’t buy that. In college, you used to watch me play and cheer me on. At the socials afterwards, we’d talk about the memorable plays I made and you were so encouraging. Where is that guy?”

“ That guy wasn’t a professional coach. I’m trying to be like our old coach, John Porter.”

“The man’s a legend,” Dane nods, raising his glass. “Best coach I ever had, too.”

“Same,” Rafael adds.

“You guys went to different colleges,” Robyn states. “How did you all have him as a coach?”

“U22,” Rafael nods. “He was our head coach at UPenn, and in the summer we formed that traveling sevens team.”

“Oh that’s right,” she sighs.

“He’s coached championship teams all around the world,” I remind her. “And he was widely regarded as one of the best collegiate coaches before he retired last year.”

Her answering exhale tells me this isn’t going according to her plan. “I don’t know then, Zay,” she shrugs. “What you’re doing isn’t working. And I know you wanna see the Ws, and so do we, but it’s not just about winning. You need to think of the players' images too.”

I take a long drink and she continues.

“Most of us will be trying to make the Olympic team again or play in The World Rugby Cup. If we lose, that’s one thing. But if we look bad while playing, that’s going to hurt our chances.”

Robyn takes a drink of her beer and gives me a shrug. She stands and quickly covers her mouth to burp away from us. I try to hide my smile when I catch her cheeks flush red.

“Excuse me. But I’m serious, Isaiah. Something needs to change because the team is frustrated, and it’s showing in our game. You have to do something different.”

Shit. I think she’s right. No, I know she’s right. Even if she was wrong, the look on her face would make me burn the world down if that meant she’d be happy with me.

“I gotta go,” she says, leaving her half-drank beer and giving a round of hugs. When she gets to me, she lingers a little longer. Or, okay, maybe I hold her a little longer.

“I’ll try,” I murmur into her hair. She replies with a sad little smile before heading for the front door.

Fuck. I’m going to lose her and our whole future if I don’t turn this around. Because here’s the thing: even if I did make her happy, if her teammates aren’t, she won’t be either.

When she swings open the front door of the bar, Jonah’s right there, and he immediately picks her up.

“Birdie!” he screams. “I saw that stiff arm you practically shoved down that bitch’s throat! Fudge yeah!”

“If you’re not careful, Zay,” Dane whispers, watching the same interaction I am, “Jonah will charm the literal pants off her.”

An image of Robyn writhing on her couch with no panties on flashes before my eyes. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, dude,” Raf says. “What’s your plan with her?”

Jonah sets her down and they catch up in the doorway. “I’m her coach and her friend,” I shrug. “That’s all I can be.”

Robyn gives Jonah her phone, and he types something into it and hands it back. She gives a wave and walks out. Before my little brother can get to us, I take her half-drank pint and down it—and maybe I take a second to imagine her lips and tongue caressing the same glass just minutes before.

When Jonah finally joins us, he’s beaming. “Well, it’s official.” He flops down on the stool across from me and grabs a new glass. “I’m in love with Robyn Cassidy. She’s my soulmate.”

“Do you have a death wish?” I ask.

Ignoring me, he guffaws. “Who orders Guinness in a pitcher?”