Page 21 of Honey Undone (The Hornets Nest #5)

SARAH

R hea knocked me into the dirt onto my back and all the air rushed out of my body as I hit the ground hard. “Sorry Minty,” she said, crawling off me as the drill ended.

“Where’s your head at?” Cosy came up beside us, her cheeks flushed and her dark red hair braided back off her face. “You’ve been out of it all damn day and you’re going to get someone hurt!”

“Simmer Mom,” Kaia was quick to defend her as she caught a ball a few feet from us. “She left all her conscious thoughts on some hotel floor with her favorite pair of underwear,” Kaia snorted.

“The underwear stayed on my body all night I’ll have you know!” I argued back and Kaia let out a long, exaggerated boo.

“You’re playing like shit because of a boy?” Cosy scoffed, “that’s something I never thought I’d hear. Adeline Sarah, star winger…distracted by dick.”

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up,” I said, almost embarrassed that I had been that easily rattled by Jensen. But since that date I couldn’t keep my thoughts off him. What was once, rugby, rugby, work and more rugby was now. Jensen, his hands, his lips, his laugh…

“Oh she’s six feet under,” Rhea laughed, putting her hand on her hip. “We’ve lost her to the dark side.”

“My head is spinning a thousand different directions right now,” I admitted and slumped back to the ground. “Give me five minutes,” I begged and Coach called for water.

“Spill,” Rhea said, tumbling into the grass beside me as Sunday and Kaia came closer. I told them everything, not sparing a single detail of the day turning sleepover and when I got to the make-out, all four of them were completely enamored.

“Show us the tattoo,” Cosy demanded.

I rolled up my rugby shorts and pulled the compression shorts beneath out of the way of the tattoo. It was healing and the skin had taken the ink so well. The lettering was smooth and stood out on my inner thigh.

Rhea practically climbed into my lap, her fingers brushing over it as she swooned. “Belle ame?” she asked, “What does it mean?”

I hadn’t actually ever looked it up.

“She didn’t look,” Kaia called my bluff with a nasty grin on her face.

“It means beautiful soul,” Sunday said without skipping a beat and we all looked at her.

“Brighton spent two years of deployment in France, and Boone went to school there…” she said in defense of our confused stares.

“You learn fast when you're dragging around your seven year old niece in the middle of Paris trying to find your idiot brother.”

“I feel like every time you open your mouth out tumbles sensitive matters of national security,” Rhea said to her and Sunday just smiled.

“Back to the fact that the fuckboy picked , beautiful soul to mark our girl with on a first date,” Kaia sounded as impressed as she was pissed off. Her voice dipping into swooning territory just as quick as it rebounded into possessive.

“He could have picked his name,” Cosy shrugged, pulling my leg toward her so she could get a better look. “And it looks well done.”

“It’s extremely hot,” Rhea agreed, “if I had a man chasing me around calling me pretty French pet names, I’d probably submit to anything—”

“Anything?” Kaia perked up.

“Okay, not that ,” Rhea said, looking scared. There was clearly a story there that neither of them wanted to share. I’d ask about it later because the look on Rhea’s face was pure, unbridled disgust mixed with terror.

“So you didn’t even have sex?” Sunday asked, her brows dipping together a little confused.

“He was a perfect gentleman and refused because I had too much gin,” I pouted .

“How the hell did you manage to screw up a booty call with a fuckboy?” Kaia asked, her dark hair blowing around in a messy ponytail.

“That’s just it, he’s not… well he is but he’s also…” I trailed off trying to explain.

“An absolute simp?” Sunday asked with a smile.

“Who taught you that term?” Rhea scowled at Sunday, who hilariously was about half her person and the complete opposite in every way.

“Daisy sends me Tik Toks,” Sunday laughed.

“That is it though, I expected to be fighting for my life to keep my clothes on and instead…” I shrugged. “He wanted to do things right and I’m not complaining but there’s so much going on that I don’t think getting involved with someone who’s life is so tied into the soil of Harbor is smart.”

“You’re so fucked,” Kaia started to laugh but her eyes softened.

“This was supposed to be a fling and now it doesn’t feel like one,” I almost whined the words because of the frustration building. “This is your fault!”

“How do you know he doesn’t just want to build a connection?” Sunday asked innocently.

“A connection still feels like attachment,” I said.

“Love is stupid. This is stupid! He was just supposed to help me relax and fuck my brains out and now I’m laying on the ground in the middle of rugby practice contemplating my entire fucking life.

What the hell happened?” I started to panic and felt like at a moment's notice I might start to cry.

“Get up.” Cosy demanded.

“What?” I sighed, my entire body reacting.

“Get off your ass,” she said, standing up and throwing the ball at me.

“Cosy,” Kaia tried to interject and got tossed a dirty look.

“Run it again.” Cosy dropped into stance when Coach blew the whistle and Rhea stood back, letting her take position as my partner. I stared at her for help but she just shrugged her shoulders.

I was in for it.

Cosy surged forward and I protected the ball as she pushed me into the hard ground without remorse. I rolled the ball out to Sunday who gave me a whimper of sympathy .

“Do it again, don’t get caught this time,” Cosy grumbled and pulled me off the ground.

“We’re running ground drill, Cosy not—”

My excuses were silenced by her glare.

Coach blew the whistle again and I stumbled over my own two feet before Cosy caught my hip, wrapping me up and pushing me back until I was in the dirt again. I slammed the ball down and rose to my feet as she yelled at me to do it again.

I understood her motives. Out here all that mattered was our dedication to each other.

My chest was pounding with short breaths as the whistle blew. I was more prepared that time, shifting off my left foot and narrowly avoiding her grasp while pushing forward out of her reach. I laughed hard, expelling all the pent up energy out of my body with a funny little scream.

“Feel better?” Cosy asked out of breath and I nodded.

“I’m good at rugby, that's not the problem,” I grumbled.

“Balance, Minty. You just gotta find balance.” She smiled, “now everyone off your asses, get back to practice,” she snapped and everyone groaned as they moved into position.

An hour later Sunday laid in my lap as we watched the Hogs practice, “Boone’s hungover,” she said. “I can always tell.” He was moving like his feet were casted in cement and the slower he moved the more pissed off Judd Loveday became.

“Helps that he’s always hungover…” Rhea laughed quietly, well she texted on her phone.

“Bets on Lovey throwing the first punch?” Kaia asked, squinting into the sun as it peaked out from the heavy clouds that hung over our heads .

“He won’t, Loveday is a pussy,” Cosy grumbled, her attention on the drills they were running at the other end of the field.

“You hate that guy for absolutely no reason,” Kaia snipped, “his accent alone is enough to make me wet,” she said loud enough that a few players looked up at her from the field and Cosy almost pushed her from the bleachers for disturbing the peace.

“He’s also a cop, an egotistical piece of shit, and he thinks he’s god's gift to rugby,” she added with disdain.

At six-two and one of the most fit members of the Harbor Hogs, the last part of her statement wasn’t a lie but he sort of had a right to act that way.

“I have to get to the shelter, enjoy watching the sausage fest.”

“She’s not wrong though, if anyone is going to throw a punch it’ll be Bright for even looking at Boone funny,” I said as Brighton Black marched across the field in the smallest shorts he could possibly wear. "He's like a feral cat caught in a bag."

"His temper should be studied for science. Here we go,” Sunday groaned, “they say women are too emotional but not a single one of us have ever fought each other on the field. Boone and Loveday go at it once a practice.”

“It’s crazy to think they even get along off the field.” Rhea said. “I don’t think I could be friends like that, it would give me heartburn.”

“The constant mud wrestling is the only thing that makes these practices worth watching,” I said.

“That and Bright’s thighs,” Kaia moaned, chewing on her lip and earning a gagging sound from Sunday in my lap. “Shut up, you offer up Boone like a mail order slut on a regular basis.”

“He is a mail order slut,” Sunday giggled and turned her head back to the field.

Boone and Judd were nose to nose, pretty similar in size and ready to get violent. They were in a screaming match at center when the rain started to fall and everyone spectating started to clear out.

“Take it off!” Kaia yelled as the rain came down hard and began flooding the field. “‘I’ll pay good money to see you get dirty!” She hollered .

“We could film it and upload it to the Dirt Ruckers site, and make a pretty buck.” Rhea said, nudging Kaia with a smile.

There was a popular site that was basically rugby porn in its lowest form.

Hard hits, nasty breaks, big fights. On hard days we’d pile into the same bed and send horrible videos back and forth as we laughed so hard we inevitably ended up in tears.

“Boones on there enough,” Sunday said, sitting up and grabbing her bag, “it's over-saturated with his ugly face,” she grumbled. “I’m going over to the bar, someone needs to open up, you coming?” She asked Kaia who shrugged and collected her shit.

“At least the rain held out until we were done, I’ll catch you later Minty,” Rhea kissed my cheek and left me sitting in the rain. Sometimes it was just nice to have the cold water to clean away all the thoughts that were plaguing me.

Coach Welton was standing in the doorway of the massive athletics building that sat off the rugby pitches and I carried myself over to her. She was watching the men practice, her focus the same as Cosy’s as I approached.

“Have you heard anything from California?” I asked her, shaking out my hair as I walked through the door into the building. It was a moment longer before she turned to address my question.

“There's a scout coming in a few weeks,” she said, crossing her arms. As if she could feel my apprehension she spoke again, “All you need to do is play your best.”

“In front of the man that has my future in his hands,” I added.

“Play like he’s not here, show him the player that they make highlight reels of and he’ll have no choice but to sign you,” Coach encouraged. “This is a big deal but you can’t let it muck up your brain, that’s what makes you a good player.”

“Easier said than done.” I smiled and adjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“Go home, relax. The next little while you’re going to have to train harder, we need to be ready,” Coach said, patting me on the shoulder before she disappeared down the hallway.

I shook out the feelings of dread, picking up food on the way back to my apartment knowing that once I crawled into bed I wouldn’t be getting out of it.

My body was sore from the abuse it suffered at practice.

I could feel a few over tightened muscles and could pinpoint the location that the bruises would appear in the morning.

“Ms. Sarah?” My name was called when I walked through the front doors. The building I lived in had a sweet younger girl that worked less as a doorman and more of a guard dog but occasionally she would collect oversized packages or food deliveries to keep the lobby clean.

“Hey Tina,” I said, wandering over to her.

“Someone dropped this off for you earlier but he didn’t wanna leave it outside your door so I stashed it for you,” she smiled at me with a mouth full of braces that made her look way younger than she actually was.

“Thanks,” I grabbed the small purple gift bag from her and wandered toward the elevator.

Instead I dug in the bag and found two jars of cream that looked like someone had filled themselves as well as a note.

The door dinged open and the second I was inside of my apartment with everything tossed on the counter I pulled the note from the bag, laying it on the counter as I opened one of the jars.

I got Silas to mix up some arnica cream with something that smells like you. He says it will help with bruising. If you need any help rubbing it on, text me but until then heal up, so I can leave marks of my own.

I lifted the jar to my nose and it smelled like citrus and arnica but it was less harsh than usual… I couldn’t help but smile at the note resisting the urge to feign idiocy just to see his face.

Very obsessive loverboy of you

I texted before taking a little cream between my fingers and rubbing it on a faded bruise on my arm gently. He had gone out of his way to leave me this and it was going to fuck with my head.

Duality.