Page 27 of Playing for Keeps

Training camp that day had a different feel—maybe because Coach quit mucking around with the non-rugby stuff and we knuckled down into the intense training. Which, as the day heated up, left us all panting and sweaty. But not in a fun way.

Us halfbacks separated off to do some passing drills with one of the assistant coaches, which put me in closer proximity to Alfie Lutu than was my naturally happy place.

Alfie had been the starting halfback for the Marauders for the past three seasons. He was an okay guy, but he always treated me warily, as if he was a dragon and I was getting too close to his treasure hoard.

Did I want to be the starting halfback for the Marauders? I wouldn’t have said no if it was offered. I loved rugby. I trained hard to be the best I could and gave my all for my team.

I’d never obsessed over starting though. Maybe because for nearly all of my professional rugby career I’d been a dad. I’d had something major going on in my life besides rugby. I was happy enough just being in the squad and earning decent money.

As I trained, and ignored Alfie, who helpfully commented on every mistake I made, I couldn’t help glancing over at Luke. He was working with Coach Clark and the other backs under the high ball.

He was nailing every take, which didn’t surprise me.

There was something…right about having Luke here. Growing up, he’d been beside me for every step of my rugby career. We were supposed to start in the Marauders development squad together after high school, but then all that shit with Char went down and Luke somehow wormed out of his commitment to the Marauders and signed to play rugby in Japan instead.

When I’d learned that news from a mutual friend, I’d felt like one of those tropical islands after a hurricane blows through. Completely flattened.

I squeezed the thought out of my head. I didn’t want to dwell on the Ethan from that time—when I had a baby on the way, trying to step up and support Char for the sake of my unborn kid, scared shitless I wasn’t going to make it as a professional rugby player as I had no backup option to provide for my kid otherwise.

I’d had to face everything minus my best friend for the first time.

Now, instead of thinking about the past, I focused on the present. Luke was here. We were in the same team again.

At the end of the session, just for shits and giggles, Coach got us to do suicide sprints.

There was a reason why rugby was a winter sport. No one should be running this hard with the sun still set on summer sizzle mode.

Afterwards, I bent over, arms on my legs, trying to regain my breath. I sensed rather than saw Luke next to me.

Happiness welled in my chest.

I looked up at him. “So, do you reckon it’s Genghis Khan, Attila the Hun, or Ivan the Terrible?”

Luke’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Who Coach Clark was in his past life. He must have had previous training to achieve this level of sadism, right?”

“I was actually thinking he’s the secret twin of Ms. Jansen.”

My breath left me again, but it was due to laughter this time. Ms. Jansen had been our Year Five teacher. She’d ruled our class with an iron fist. Even the parents had been scared of her.

I nodded slowly. “I can totally see the resemblance. Same square jaw. Same facial hair. They were probably raised by wolves who just left them a piece of meat now and again to fight over.”

It was Luke’s turn to laugh.

And I spiraled back in time. Back to those years of childhood, when my only aim in life had been to make Luke laugh.

For such a restrained guy, Luke was someone who surprisingly committed his whole body to his laugh.

His shoulders shook, while I tried not to let my face reflect my happiness.

Shit, I had missed this.

“You reckon Coach will try the same feeding strategy tonight? Just toss a leg of lamb on the table and let us fight it out? Get us to hone our killer instincts?” Luke asked.

“Nah, player union rules probably forbid that,” I said.

Despite my tired body, there was a lightness in my step as I walked with Luke toward the cabins.