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Thank fuck, this seemed to actually work.

After Elise took over the field, making everyone do exactly as she wanted without a single word spoken, she and her team dominated the pitch.

This only confirms my suspicions that she’s previously used rugby during her team practices, and it’s even more obvious that her father has taught her about as much as he’s taught me.

Her speed, power, and sheer will to win is admirable and has my skin burning hot. It’s warm today, I tell myself, but the lie doesn’t stick as I peer down at the goosebumps lining the skin of my arm, the chill in the air cooling the sweat clinging to me. Goddamnit.

I really need to make more of an effort to remind myself that Elise isn't someone who could mutually benefit from a romp in the sheets. We're in two extraordinarily different places in our lives, and I need to get myself a pocket pussy or something because I'm starting to act like a horny fool.

I refocus my attention on the turf. The women are smiling brightly as they make their way to the locker room, and it settles a part of me that has been so consumed by anxiety these last couple of weeks.

I’m not sure that these ladies are really going to tolerate me more, but if they have any interest in drooling over my teammates' asses again, they sure as hell better try.

I make my way down the field, drenched in sweat, my shorts clinging to my thighs. I want nothing more than to shower and head home to my quiet apartment free of the noise these women seem to carry around with them. The only woman I need in my life right now is Mrs. Purrito. She’s loud enough as is.

The light feeling of relief from the day nearing an end is disrupted as quickly as it came. My eyes snag on Elise and Chelsea huddled together, and I watch intently as Chelsea passes Elise something, which she takes and swallows.

Her gaze swings around the field, clearly checking for any prying eyes, but she’s too late. I’ve already seen her.