Page 37 of Red Card (Prescott University #1)

Rory

H ey, Ror, can you do me a favor and grab my apron out of the kitchen?

” Dad asks as he opens the top of the barbecue pit, then starts adjusting ten different knobs that I won’t pretend I have any idea of what they actually do.

This is why he handles the main course, and I handle everything else for team dinners.

Work smarter, not harder.

“Sure!” I call back, hopping down from the outside bar. I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, checking my notifications as I walk back inside, immediately opening Cillian’s message.

Cillian: I’m going to spend the entire night looking at your mouth and thinking about what you did with it last night. This is not good, St. James.

I can’t stop the smile that flits to my lips.

Last night was incredible, and the night before… and the one before that. The past week has been an orgasm-filled haze that has left me deliciously sore and achy in all the right places.

And I fear that I’m becoming addicted. Not just to the orgasms, but to Cillian .

I quickly text him back, even though when I glance at the clock at the top of the screen, I see that everyone should be arriving in the next few minutes, including him.

Rory: Be a good boy and maybe I’ll do it again as my thank you.

We seem to be doing a lot of thanking lately, and I still can’t get enough. My stomach’s bouncing with excitement and a tad bit of nerves that Cillian’s going to be here tonight. His first team dinner. When I think back to just weeks ago, I honestly wasn’t sure this moment would ever happen.

And granted, we’re not completely out of the woods yet, but it’s definitely a step in the right direction. A huge step. One that I will gladly take if it means that I get to keep him.

I mean, in the literal sense. On the team. Not like I’m going to keep him as mine .

Passing over the threshold into the house, I walk to the kitchen and grab Dad’s barbecue apron off the hook he keeps it on in the pantry.

And that’s when I hear voices in the foyer, signaling that the guys have arrived.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and take a deep breath.

It’s showtime.

The moment I turn the corner from the kitchen to the hallway, I spot Wren and Fitz in the foyer.

“Rorryyyyyyyy! My favorite girl,” Fitz says with a wide, cheeky smile. He tosses a heavy arm over my shoulder, dragging me against his side. And for a second, I stay there, letting the comfort of my best friend surround me. I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed him until now.

Things have just been so… busy the last few weeks, I feel like I haven’t seen much of anyone besides Cillian. He’s been occupying nearly every minute of my free time.

And most of that free time includes mind-blowing orgasms, so no complaints from me.

“Oh, your favorite ? Does this have anything to do with certain cookies, maybe?”

He has the audacity to look offended, like I can’t see right through his facade. Best friends, remember?

“Can you blame me, Ror? Those things are literally the highlight of my month. Either way, you know you’re my favorite girl. Always have been, always will be.”

“Hey, she’s my favorite too,” Wren interjects, elbowing Fitz just as the doorbell rings.

“Well, good thing I love you both equally. Which means equal amount of cookies,” I quip as I duck under Fitz’s arm, tossing them a grin over my shoulder, before I walk to the front door.

Soon the house and backyard are filled with most of the team, except for… Cillian.

He hasn’t shown up yet, and I’m starting to worry that he might not show up at all.

I check my phone again, sighing when I see that he hasn’t sent me a text, and then shove it back into my pocket. I guess he could’ve changed his mind. It’s not like tonight is mandatory attendance, more of something casual and fun we like to do together outside of the pitch.

“Ror?” Fitz calls from the barstool beside me, his thick brows pinched together beneath the brown beanie he’s wearing.

I hum. “Hmm?”

“Everything good?”

I force a small smile and nod as the white lie spills from my lips. “Yeah, of course. Just thinking about the mountain of homework I have to work on later.”

He laughs. “Worry about it later. Have fun with us tonight, Ror. Give it a rest, and think about it tomorrow.”

Then Wren walks out of the house carrying a huge bowl full of salad and a few steps behind him is Cillian.

He came.

My heart gallops wildly in my chest, and for a moment, I almost forget that I can’t just get up and go to him, throw my arms around his neck, and tell him how glad I am he’s here.

That’s the hard part about… falling for someone in secret.

His eyes find mine from across the yard, and his lips tilt slightly.

“Look who’s here,” Wren says, glancing at Cillian, who looks slightly uncomfortable at the sudden attention. He’s wearing a pair of relaxed, dark-washed jeans, with a thick burgundy sweater and a thick black jacket.

Though I’ve spent the last week having hot, sweaty sex on every surface of my apartment with him, the sight of him still makes my pulse race.

He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen, and even more so now that I’ve gotten to know him… beyond those concrete walls he puts up that I think have slowly begun to crumble.

Cillian lifts his hand in a small wave as he looks out around the backyard, pausing on Brooks and Ezra, who are sitting under the outdoor heaters.

I shift my attention to the two of them, watching as their expressions stay neutral. Brooks nods at him before going back to his conversation.

And Ezra just looks bored, barely acknowledging him.

While most of the guys on the team have made so much of an effort with Cillian, there’s still a slight tension among the three of them.

I think I can tell because I know all of them so well.

They’re not icing him out any longer, at least from what I can see, but things are definitely not rainbows and sunshine between them by any means.

I don’t think it ever will be, if I’m being honest.

The other night when we were lying in bed, I finally pulled out of Cillian what happened when he first got here… and where the black eye actually came from, since I know there’s no way he fell into a locker.

And now I know it was Brooks. And that Brooks tried to goad him, and Cillian walked away.

He walked away without touching him.

Even after Brooks fucking hit him!

No one said anything. They all stood by and let it happen, and I’m honestly so disappointed and ashamed that these guys I thought I knew and that I love so fiercely would take part in something like that.

Cillian made me promise not to say anything, especially to Dad, but I’m still upset about it. Even slightly at Fitz and Wren for not telling me.

But considerably more at Brooks and Ezra for being assholes. Ezra has always given me that vibe, but Brooks? I’m shocked, especially since he’s supposed to be leading this team.

A small part of me wants to tell Dad what happened, but an even smaller part of me knows that I can’t because it would mean betraying Cillian’s trust. Which is something he doesn’t give freely and I would never want to lose.

Especially now that things have gotten progressively better. I would hate to undo all that progress.

Looking up, I see Wren and Cillian walking toward us after talking with Dad, and I pull my jacket tighter around me as a chill creeps up my spine. It’s freezing even with the heaters, fire, and my thick jacket.

Wren flops his massive body into the chair across the bar and pulls out the one beside him for Cillian.

“What’s up?” Fitz says, extending a hand over the table. Cillian clasps it as he gives him a rare smile. “’Bout time you finally showed up. I was getting worried that you wouldn’t.”

Cillian’s shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Nah, I told you I’d be here. Just had some stuff at the flat to handle.”

Is that why he didn’t text me back?

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, man. We’re glad, right, Ror?” Fitz says as he bumps a shoulder against me gently.

I nod, and Cillian’s eyes find mine, the two of us sharing a secret look that lasts for only a second. He reaches up, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Thanks for the invite. My first American cookout.” His tone is light, a hint of playfulness shining through. “Can’t say I’ve ever had barbeque in the cold though.”

“Dad is… dedicated when it comes to team dinners,” I say with a shake of my head. “He says they’re imperative to team building, but I think it’s just because he wants an excuse to cook for everyone.”

Wren scoffs. “Yeah, and I swear he’s secretly from Russia or something because the cold doesn’t affect him ever. He could do this shit in the middle of a snowstorm and not bat an eye.”

This is true.

His daughter on the other hand is still not accustomed to New England winters even though I’ve spent my entire life here.

You’d think that after twenty years of blizzards and ice that I’d have grown used to it, but you’d be dead wrong.

I think in a past life I was absolutely an island girl.

From somewhere warm and tropical like Hawaii or Bora Bora.

“Oh shit,” Fitz interjects. “Do you remember that time freshman year when he made us run when it was fucking freezing outside? Because we were still hungover that day at practice. Kill, I swear to God one of us puked and it froze on the fucking ground. I wish I was joking but I’m dead-ass serious.”

Cillian laughs as he shakes his head. “No way?”

Fitz nods, lifting his hand to his heart. “Swear to God.”

“It’s been a while since any of us had to run like that,” Wren says with an arched brow and a tight grimace.

I vaguely remember that happening. I felt terrible for the guys, but then again they shouldn’t have gotten shit-faced drunk the night before an important practice, and they knew that.

“That’s hilarious. Objectively. As someone who didn’t have to participate that is,” Cillian says.