Page 22 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)
Chapter Ten
SINNETT
I t’s fucking hard watching your closest friends kill it on the field while being stuck on the sideline, wishing you were out there with them.
Biting my tongue and smiling through every second until the siren blares after eighty minutes is torture.
Hearing the roar of the fans when the Wolves won against the South Sydney Titans, nearly blowing my eardrums, and knowing I wasn’t part of the teams win tears at my insides, creating a wound I’m not sure I can fix.
Rugby is my whole life, and without it, I feel lost. I no longer feel excited to start the day if all I’m doing is following a recovery plan in the hopes I can be back on the field in three weeks.
Each day feels unknown with a multitude of different outcomes that could see me sidelined for longer, and the thought fucking kills me each time.
I’m fighting the urge to go off the deep end and say fuck it.
Because what am I good for if I’m not there for my team, helping them win or encouraging them to continue fighting?
Nothing .
If it wasn’t for Khai keeping me distracted by forcing me into the gym—a reprieve from the exhausting thoughts circling my mind every second of the day—or reminding me that I need to stay in shape for when I do get cleared to play, I would be rotting away in bed with no purpose.
But because he’s stubborn as fuck and loyal to a fault, I’m holding myself back from the edge—barely.
It doesn’t help that a certain strawberry-blonde with jade eyes continues to pop into my head when I least expect it, demanding my attention when I know damn well I can’t give it to her. I need to stay focused, but she’s making it fucking difficult to do so.
“You okay, Sin?”
I lift my head at the sound of Khai’s voice.
He’s standing in front of me with his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his dirty jersey and shorts replaced with dark blue chino shorts and a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Water sticks to brown hair, the strands styled neatly atop his head.
I exhale a deep breath and nod. “Yeah, fine.”
“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for yourself again.”
“I’m not,” I bite out, running a hand through my hair. “I’m just…”
“Thinking too much,” Khai finishes for me, not an ounce of judgement in his voice. “I get it, Sin, I do. If I were in your position, I would be the same. Hell, I’d probably be worse.”
“How is that even possible,” I muse, biting back a smile.
Khai rolls his eyes and shoves his free hand into his pockets.
“My point is, you’re allowed to dwell on the fact that you’re upset about the injury, but don’t feel sorry for yourself.
If you start doing that, you’ll give up, and I refuse to let you throw away your future because you couldn’t get through the recovery period. ”
I open my mouth to respond, but the retort dies on my tongue because he’s right. For once, Khai is speaking words of wisdom that embed themselves deep in my bones.
The more I feel sorry for myself and debate whether or not I can get through this injury, the more I’m digging myself into a hole that I might not be able to get out of.
Doubting myself and my ability to recover from this injury is a mental game that could see me out on the field in three weeks or sidelined for longer than planned.
If I stop being a fucking bitch and focus, I know I can get through this.
“You’re right… for once.” I huff out a breath and stand, my quad groaning in protest. “I need to get out of my head.”
“Yeah, and preferably under a hottie that makes you forget your name.” Khai wiggles his brows at me, lips turned up in a smirk.
I shake my head, shoving my hands into the front pocket of my Wolves’ hoodie. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your favourite idiot, right?”
“No.”
“Come on, I know you’re lying. You don’t need to play hard to get.”
I huff a laugh. “How’d you go from offering some top tier advice to being a dirtbag and saying I need to get laid?”
Khai shrugs, a goofy grin consuming his features. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“I’ll say it again, you’re an idiot. And I’m not in the mood to hook up with someone.”
“Why? Because you have a certain strawberry-blonde on your mind?”
My fists clench, fingernails embedding into my palm. “No.”
A knowing smile splits across my best friend’s face. “You can’t lie to me, Sin. I can see right through you.”
“Well, you’re wrong this time,” I grunt, unable to meet his eyes.
When Tatum walked into the locker room before the game, her shoulders were tense and jade eyes refused to lift from the floor.
I watched her walk across the room to where Olive, our social media person, stood on the other side of the room.
I couldn’t put my finger on why, but Tatum looked rattled.
It was obvious by her refusal to meet the team’s eyes—especially mine—and how quiet she was on the sideline, body rigid and spine straight as she watched the game.
I had to stop myself multiple times from asking her if everything was okay, but the death glares I received from Zoe, where she sat with half of the cheerleading squad on the opposite side of Tatum, made me think twice.
The last thing I need is for Zoe to cause a scene and make Tatum’s life hell—and from experience, Zoe has no problem doing so.
She’s made my life hell since breaking things off with her, constantly calling or texting me, with no clear end in sight.
Seeing Tatum this on edge has me wondering if Zoe has said something to her. My fists tighten again at the thought. If she has, I will have no problem causing a scene of my own.
Khai holds his hands up in defence. “Okay, if you say so. But if you’re wound tight and need an outlet to release some pent-up energy, I’m heading out to grab a drink with Axel. Who knows, maybe you might meet someone who makes you forget about Tatum.”
I run my hand through my hair, eyes sweeping across the near-empty locker room.
Empty beer cans fill the bin in the centre of the room, courtesy of the celebration ritual post-game.
Most of the alcove spaces are cleared out, with only a few players remaining as they gather the last of their belongings.
Todd, our head assistant coach, lingers in the corner of the room talking with Axel, our fullback.
Coach Phil left ten minutes ago, but I haven’t seen Tatum for at least thirty minutes. Not that I’m keeping tabs on her…
Okay, maybe a little.
“I might pass,” I say, flicking my eyes back to Khai. “I should probably get some sleep.”
Khai raises a questioning brow. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Go have fun. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Khai claps me on the shoulder, guiding me out of the sheds and into the hallway. “If you hear strange noises coming from my room, don’t be alarmed, okay?”
“Khai, I’ve heard you have sex enough that I know far too much about the ‘strange’ noises that come from your bedroom. So, believe me, I will be falling asleep with my headphones in.”
A snort sounds from my best friend’s throat. “Sorry not sorry, Sin. I can’t control them the same way you can’t control how weak you are for always going back to Zoe. We’re only human.”
“I told you I’m done with Zoe.” My voice is tight and harsher than I intended as we step through the back entrance of the stadium, the air cool against the exposed skin of my legs.
May weather in Sydney makes no sense to me.
The mornings and evenings are chilly, but the sun is a blistering bitch throughout the day, making it impossible to gauge what the temperature is going to be or decide what clothes to wear.
“If you’ve heard otherwise, then you’re mistaken. ”
Khai turns his body to me, only an inch shorter than I am. “We both know Zoe talks an unbelievable amount of shit. And while I have heard her saying to her friends that she plans on winning you back, I know you’ve already checked out.”
“I was never checked in.”
He chuckles. “That was probably for the best. I would’ve hated to see you get caught in a web of feelings for that girl.”
“You and me both.” I exhale a deep breath. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Khai hoists his gym bag higher on his shoulder and nods. “As my emergency contact, I expect nothing less from you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I bite back a smile as I watch him walk to his car across the lot. “You should really get that changed.”
“To who?” he throws over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, maybe either one of your parents.”
Khai waves me off with his hand. “Not a chance. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Sin. Nice try.”
I chuckle and shake my head, watching as he throws the gym bag onto the front seat of his black Range Rover and tears out of the car park, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A burst of light blinds me in the darkness when the device flicks to life, revealing a text from my sister.
MIA: I saw the results of the game tonight. I miss seeing you out there.
SIN: Trust me, I miss being out there.
MIA: I hope so… How’s the recovery going? Surely you’re on the mend.
SIN: It’s going as well as I can hope. My new physio’s schedule has done more in the past ten days than my previous schedule. If all goes well, the six-week check-in appointment should yield good news.
MIA: I’m so glad to hear that. Gran has been asking me how you’re doing. You should call her more.
SIN: I know, I know. I’ve been super busy with training, and don’t even get me started on Mum and Dad.
MIA: That bad, huh?
SIN: Ever since you moved to live with Gran, they’ve been insufferable. More than their usual amount.
MIA: I’m sorry you have to deal with them alone. You know how hard it is for me to talk to them, especially Mum, with all things considered. I just need some time to figure everything out.
SIN: I can handle them, so you don’t have to worry about it, okay? I’ve got this.