Page 50 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

SINNETT

I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve missed the media activities before a game.

Game days are already hectic enough, so adding media interviews and pre-game segments when I still have to fit in a warm-up is overwhelming, to say the least. But having been out of the game for multiple weeks, I found myself hyped to talk with the different broadcast stations and answer questions about my injury and return.

The outpouring of support I received from the reporters and fans online from the moment I woke up this morning was… a lot. In the best way possible.

Nervous energy pounds in my veins as I follow some of my teammates down the tunnel and onto the field, blinded by the stadium lights overhead and the murmur of voices from the crowd.

I focus on warming up and practicing my goal kicks, considering it has been several weeks since it’s been a top priority for me.

But I find myself getting lost in the moment—taking in the faces of the fans watching from the fence around the field, calling my name and cheering for me.

The collective boos from the Campbelltown Giants brings a smile to my face.

Fucking hell, I truly have missed this feeling.

Through the fog of adrenaline and the need to get back into my jersey, I feel her eyes on me. They’re strong, like an electric current pouring through my veins, demanding my attention. And fuck, do I give it to her.

After kicking the ball through the goal posts, I spin to find Tatum standing on the sidelines with her arms folded over her chest, watching me.

From the outside looking in, she’s every bit the concerned physio checking on a client who is returning from an injury and needs to be monitored.

But in my world—the one where it’s just us—I know she’s watching with pride, eager to see me in action.

Having her be here by my side, peppering me with encouragement and secret kisses in the hallway when no one is around, is all I need tonight. Not my family, my friends, or anyone in the club. Just Tatum.

She’s all I need.

“God, you really are down bad for her, huh?”

I turn back to the goal post to find Khai watching me with a shit-eating grin. He tosses a ball into the air and catches it with ease when it drops into his hands. His hair is styled neatly with gel, but in thirty minutes, it’s going to be slick with sweat and matted with blades of grass.

“Is it really that obvious?” I gesture for him to toss me the ball, which he does without hesitation.

His eyes linger on me as I position the ball on the plastic holder.

Once in place, I stand and take several steps back, focusing on where I want the ball to travel.

Ideally, through the centre of the posts.

“Sin, if I can see it, everyone is this damn stadium can, too.”

With a sharp exhale, I rush forward and punt the ball as hard as I can. I hold my breath as I watch it fly through the air, moving exactly where I wanted it to. Elliot, one of our centres, catches it with ease, tossing the ball to Finn to run drills with him.

I shove a hand through my hair and meet my best friends knowing gaze. “I don’t know what I’m doing, man. Tate has me all fucked up in the head.”

“In a good way?” Khai questions, raising a brow at me.

I nod. “Of course, in a good way. Shit . I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her. And when we are together, I’m thinking of ways I can keep her with me forever.”

Khai bites back an amused grin. “Yeah, you’re down so bad I can’t pull you out. I have no choice but to let you drown in your craziness.”

“I feel crazy,” I admit, swallowing hard. “Crazy about her.”

“And what do you plan to do about it?”

God, I wish I knew the answer to that question.

Being with Tatum is so easy and familiar that it terrifies me because I don’t want to fuck this up.

As much as I want to be all in with her, the stars haven’t aligned for us.

No matter what way you look at it, this, what we’re doing now, is all we can ever be.

As long as her father is standing in the way, and with our positions in the company reminding us of our places, being together in secret is our only reality. And I hate it.

I’ve broken every rule possible for this woman, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if the moments we share—however small—will continue to last for as long as time is willing to give us.

“I have no idea,” I admit, voice tight. The lump forming in my throat makes it hard to breathe, but I manage to squeeze out, “There is nothing I can do, Khai. My hands are tied.”

Khai flicks his eyes from me to where Tatum stands on the sidelines, watching quietly. “Surely there is something you can do, Sin. It’s clear you really like the girl, so why not just go for it?”

“Uh, because I don’t want Coach Phil to bury me six feet under for breaking his rule of staying away from his daughter,” I deadpan, as if I haven’t laid awake for hours at a time over the past few weeks with the same thought on my mind.

“No matter what way you look at it, if I choose Tatum, I could lose everything I worked so hard to achieve at this club. And if I choose the club, I lose the one person who has made me feel like… me again.”

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth and roll my neck from side to side, hoping to ease the tension building in my shoulders.

I’ve been in a constant state of stress, not knowing what I’m going to do moving forward.

As of right now, everything has fallen into place, and I don’t want that to change.

But I’m not naive enough to know that the other shoe has to drop eventually, and I’m not sure I’ve prepared myself for when that time comes.

“You’re in a fucking pickle, that’s for sure.” Khai rolls his tongue in his cheek, nodding slowly. “Okay, I guess all you can do is hope that Coach Phil doesn’t find out about you and Tate, and until then, just enjoy the moment.”

I nod, shoulders slumping forward. “Until everything comes crashing down.”

With a sad smile, Khai claps my shoulder and guides me towards the tunnel.

Kickoff starts in less than thirty minutes, and we have more training drills to go through in the sheds.

For the first time in six weeks, I get to put the number seven jersey on.

I’ve been looking forward to this moment since I hobbled off the field in round five, my quad in so much pain my vision was blurring at the edges.

And now, six weeks later, I’ve reclaimed my position as halfback, and I’m ready to tear up the field.

My eyes find Tatum as we walk past, and she smiles so sweetly that I have to flex my hands at my side to keep from reaching for her.

She’s dressed in her usual work uniform of a polo shirt and black pants, but with the cool May air whipping around us, she has my leather jacket thrown over her shoulders—the same one I gave her the night I walked her home.

I have no intention of asking for it back, not when it looks that good on her.

Needing to stay focused, I tear my eyes from Tatum and follow Khai down the tunnel. Young Wolves fans call our names as we go, and we stop to give them a quick wave before disappearing out of sight.

Before I can enter the sheds where the rest of the team are, I’m stopped by a hand on my chest and heated honey eyes. Her floral perfume is overwhelming to the point my eyes begin to water in the corners, but I blink it away.

Khai looks between me and Zoe, and I beg with my eyes for him not to leave me. He holds his hands up in defeat and retreats into the sheds, taking with him my only source of defence against this woman.

The audacity of him to fucking leave me when he is the cause for the wrath seeping out of Zoe’s pores.

Here we fucking go .

“Why the hell did you block my number?” Zoe demands.

Her hand slips from my chest, and she folds her arms, holding my gaze with such intensity that I resist the urge to shudder.

She’s dressed in the Wolves cheerleading outfit, ready to go for the pre-game performance.

But, of course, she had to carve out some time in her schedule to chew my ass out.

Great.

“If you didn’t text me every hour of the day when I’ve repeated multiple times that I’m no longer interested, then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this, Zoe.”

I’m not going to tell her this was Khai’s doing.

While I was pissed last night when he took it upon himself to block her number so I didn’t have to deal with her persistent efforts to win me back, I’ve now realised that it was the right thing to do.

I shouldn’t enable her behaviour when I’ve made it clear where I stand with her.

And if she’s unwilling to take the hint, then it’s no longer my problem.

Despite the makeup covering her face and neck, red splotches appear at the base of her throat and her jaw mashes together.

The fire in her eyes is enough to make anyone drop dead, but not me.

Zoe can intimidate her teammates and some of the other guys on the team, but I’m not one of them.

I refuse to bow down to her every need just because she demands it.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve to try and push me away,” she hisses, voice low. Staff members pass by, their attention focused on whatever task they’re doing and not us. “I’m not letting this end, Sin. I don’t care what you say. You’re mine, and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

Anger bubbles beneath my skin, and I clench my hands at my side to keep from lashing out at her.

“You don’t own me, Zoe. You never did. All we did was fuck when it was convenient for the both of us.

There were no feelings involved and I certainly didn’t want to be with you for longer than necessary. ”

Zoe gasps, her red painted lips forming an O.

My words might have been brutal, but they were necessary. If this is what she needs to hear to leave me alone, then so be it. I’ll be the bad guy if I have to. If it means I can finally be rid of her.

“You didn’t mean anything to me,” I continue, voice dropping low enough that it can only be heard by us. “All you were was a momentary distraction. A quick fuck. And that’s all you ever will be.”

Zoe’s features twist from shocked to downright fucking pissed in the blink of an eye.

I don’t see her hand before it connects with my cheek, but fuck does it follow through with a pain that explodes across my skin and seeps behind my eyes.

The force isn’t enough to turn my head, but the connection was loud enough that anyone in the vicinity would have heard it.

Yeah, I should’ve expected a reaction like that.

But I don’t regret what I said. If the truth is enough to rid myself of a Zoe sized leech, then I’ll take a hundred more slaps across the face until she’s gone.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Zoe hisses, voice dripping with lethal venom that could kill an adult. “And you’re going to regret ever treating me this way.”

I chuckle humorlessly. “I’d like to see you try, Zoe.”

With a huff, she barges past me, her shoulder digging into my bicep as she storms down the tunnel.

The chatter of people passing by and the gradual volume of my teammates metres away sound in my mind like static.

I fight the urge to rub at my cheek which I’m sure is no doubt red, a reminder of what just happened.

Every muscle in my body is wound tight, and with the added stress of wanting to perform well tonight, I feel like I’m slowly sinking into the ground—the weight too much for me to bear.

I run my hand through my hair and release a sharp breath. Needing to get my head in the game, I make a move for the sheds, but I’m stopped when a vanilla and floral scent sweeps me up, holding me hostage.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find Tatum standing two metres away, her round jade eyes moving to the red mark on my cheek.

Shit .

How much of the conversation with Zoe did she hear? More importantly, what did she see?

As if she can read my mind, she says, “What was that all about?”

I open my mouth, but the words get caught behind the lump in my throat.

All I can do is watch as she steps forward, closing the space between us.

Her small hand finds my left cheek, caressing the inflamed skin.

Tatum’s touch is gentle and comforting. I fight the urge to lean into it, knowing anyone—especially her father—could walk upon us.

“She got you good,” she murmurs, eyes searching my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “I’m fine, Tate. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Was that your first time getting slapped across the face?”

A smile tilts the corner of my lips. “By a woman, yeah.”

Tatum laughs, the sound defusing the shitstorm raging in my chest. “I’m not going to ask.”

“What you saw…” I drag my hand through my hair and exhale a sharp breath. “What I said needed to be heard by her.”

“It was harsh,” Tatum admits quietly. “But I understand.”

“I don’t need another person trying to keep us apart,” I tell her, voice barely above a whisper.

Tatum drags her bottom lip between her teeth and drops her hand to her side. I crave more of her touch, but now isn’t the right time.

“Good luck out there, Sin,” Tatum says, changing the topic, which I’m grateful for. “I’m proud of you.”

Those four words do something to my heart that I don’t understand.

It’s not something that can be measured with words or a specific emotion.

They seep into my soul, wrapping around me like a tight hug.

My body screams at me to kiss her, to thank her for everything she has done for me, but I can’t—no matter how fucking badly I want to.

This woman is too much. And I love it.

“I’ll see you after the game, strawberry.”

Tatum grins. “I hope so.”