Page 39 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)

Chapter Seventeen

TATUM

“ H ow are you adjusting to the new job and being in Sydney?” Dad asks as we pull into the car park behind the Wolves’ home stadium, located in Brookvale. He kills the engine and flicks his eyes to me. “I only ask because you’ve been acting a little… off the past week.”

Despite my best efforts, heat floods my cheeks and I shift in the seat, unable to meet my father’s eyes.

How can I tell him the truth? If he found out I’m sleeping with his star halfback, there would be no coming back from it.

While I don’t agree with his need to enforce a ‘no dating’ rule on his twenty-three-year-old daughter, there isn’t anything I can do to change his mind.

Not that I’ve tried. And even if I did, he seems adamant with his stance.

With how busy Dad has been this past week, he didn’t bat an eye when I would leave to go for a late-night drive around the suburbs with Sinnett.

Each time I left, he would either be in his office working on game plans for the round ten match against the Redfern Raiders, or he’d be passed out in bed.

Dad isn’t the kind of father who watches everything I do with a keen eye, but I have no doubt there is a slight concern in the back of his mind that I’ll go against his rule of steering clear from the players.

Whether it’s because he doesn’t trust I can keep a promise—turns out I can’t—or because he doesn’t want to see me get hurt.

Either way, he gives me the breathing room I need to live my life, but keeps close enough to take note if anything is out of the ordinary.

And apparently, I’m not as slick as I thought I was.

“Y-yeah, I’m adjusting well, Dad.” I clear my throat and slip a smile onto my face.

He raises a brow at me. “And you’re okay?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

God, am I really that obvious?

Dad’s knowing eyes search my face for any sign I’m lying.

If this were Mum, she would notice straight away I’m not being truthful.

She pointed out my ‘tell’ when I was ten and being questioned about a broken pot plant in the backyard.

I broke it by accident when I was kicking around one of Dad’s old rugby balls, not realising the ball would go in the complete opposite direction when not kicked correctly.

As soon as Mum noticed I was picking at the skin around my left thumb, she knew I was lying.

Apparently it was something she had picked up on over the years, but didn’t say anything until that moment.

I still my hands, snapping my head down to see my pointer and thumb fingers hovering over my left thumb, the skin around the nail raw.

Shit .

Flattening my hands on my thighs, I force a bright smile that doesn’t quite touch my eyes. “I promise I’m okay. You know how this job can be. I’m just tired.”

“You have been spending more time with Raya lately, so that could also be adding to the tiredness,” Dad points out.

Relief washes over me and I sink back into the seat. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“And I’ve noticed you’ve been spending extra time with Sinnett outside of his scheduled session slots this week. Is he needing extra support with his quad?”

Oh, crap.

I definitely haven’t been as slick as I thought.

I didn’t consider what others might think seeing Sinnett and me together at work.

From the outside looking in, the interactions could be passed off as nothing more than friendly, or Sinnett asking his physio for advice.

But if Dad is taking note of it, based off what he has seen with his own eyes or what the other staff have told him, then I need to be more careful around Sinnett moving forward.

I clear my throat and plaster on a smile. “Oh, he’s fine. You know how he is with following a schedule. It’s non-stop questions with him, which I don’t mind answering.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “He’s doing great, recovery-wise.”

Dad nods. “That’s great to hear, Tate. Just remember what I told you about not dating the players. I’m not doing it to be annoying or unfair. I made a promise to your mother to protect you, so that is what I’m trying to do.”

I swallow hard and nod. I’m in desperate need of fresh air. “Yeah, sure. I understand, Dad.”

“Also, when are you getting your car back? The mechanic has had it for ages.”

Shit. I had forgotten about my damn car. Sinnett hasn’t given me an update on the status of it, other than his guy is working hard to get everything fixed, but because it’s an old model, he has to order parts in, which could take time.

“Soon,” I answer, voice wavering at the edges.

“Well, we should look at getting you a new one like we talked about,” he says, not fazed by my vague response. Dad glances down at his watch and reaches for the car door. “We better get inside before Todd starts to wonder where I am.”

Phew . Dodged a bullet there.

As we approach the back entrance to the stadium, the echo of voices from the crowd filing into the space thumps in the back of my mind.

It’ll never cease to amaze me how passionate and dedicated rugby fans are, especially the Wolves’ fanbase.

Each week they show up, no matter if it’s an away or home game; they’re always there to support the team with their cheers and chants.

It’s a dedication I’ve never witnessed before.

“What is your favourite game night of the week?” I ask, following Dad down the long hallway to the Wolves’ locker room.

“I would say tonight, Fridays.”

“Why?”

“It’s always a good crowd,” he tells me, glancing over his shoulder. “A lot of fans travel from work straight here, and families bring their children hoping to have a fun night after school.”

“That’s commitment,” I comment. “What’s the crowd meant to be like tonight? Is it a sellout?”

“I’ve heard from Todd that it’s close to being sold out.”

I exhale a sharp breath and step into the sheds behind my dad, my view blocked by his large frame.

He spins on his heels to face me, crisp polo shirt in place and black dress pants recently dry-cleaned.

I tilt my head back to meet his eye, ignoring the feel of a certain pair of ocean eyes watching from across the room.

Even without seeing him, I feel him. Like my body is drawn to his, seeking out his touch. It’s a strange feeling, and not something I’ve gotten used to—even after spending the past five days with him in some capacity. Late-night drives have become a new routine for us.

“I’m going to need you to keep an extra eye on our centre tonight, Tate,” Dad says, clutching at the clipboard under his arm.

“Todd said Ryder was having some aches and pains during training this week, and while he’s been given the all-clear to play, just observe him throughout the game.

If you see anything of concern, just let Todd know. ”

Right. I have a job to do when I walk through the doors to the stadium. This is what I signed up for when I agreed to leave Barrenridge. I’ve been so distracted by Sinnett that I almost forgot that the well-being of everyone in this room relies heavily on me.

I swallow hard and nod. “Absolutely.”

Dad smiles and pats my shoulder. “Thank you, Tate. Have I mentioned you’re doing a great job?”

I chuckle. “Just every morning over breakfast.”

“Well, you better start believing it.” Dad takes two steps back and claps his hands. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

I nod and wave him off, watching as he walks across the room to where Todd and some of the other staff members are standing. Olive has her phone held up in front of Axel, no doubt asking him pre-game questions to put on social media.

My chest aches with the breath I’m holding on to.

I’m annoyed at myself for being distracted by a man to the point where I had forgotten about my purpose here and why I moved to Sydney.

Much like the team is now—warming up, listening to music and stretching—I need to get my head in the game and focus .

No more distractions.

Refusing to look at where Sinnett sits beside Khai, who is stretching on the ground in his pre-game jersey, I walk over to where Ryder sits in front of his locker space. He lifts his head at the sound of my approach.

“Hey,” I greet with a warm smile. “Phil said you’re worried about some aches and pains. If you’re up for it, I’d like to have a chat before the game to make sure you’re okay.”

Ryder stands, his frame towering over me. Brown eyes narrow from behind wispy strands of blonde hair as he touches his right shoulder. “I’m worried I’ve done something to my rotator cuff.”

“Not a problem. I can help with that.” I gesture to the chair behind him. “Take a seat and I’ll take a look.”

For twenty minutes, I go through some stretches and exercises to determine if there is something wrong with Ryder’s rotator cuff, ending the impromptu session with a massage and taping up his shoulder to give it extra support throughout the game.

I make a mental note to switch up his recovery plan to help with the issue moving forward.

With a sigh, I drop down in my usual seat in the corner of the training room.

As it gets closer to kick off, the players start moving around the open space, going through their warm-ups and getting changed into their jerseys.

At first, I was self-conscious about seeing the team half-naked because I didn’t want them to think I was checking them out or being weird.

I was respectful and kept my eyes down when I could.

But I quickly realised that they don’t care who sees them in this state, especially if you’re part of the staff.

Which makes things easier for me because now I don’t have to endure neck pain from constantly looking down at my phone.

A vibration in my pocket alerts me to a new notification. When I retrieve the device and see the name on the screen, liquid pools in my core and my pulse jackhammers at the base of my throat.

SIN: Are you avoiding me?