Page 63 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)
Chapter Thirty-Two
SINNETT
M y head is a fucking mess.
It’s as if I have butter fingers tonight because I can’t hold onto the ball to save my life, and every play I try to set up fails miserably.
Well, that might be a little dramatic given the Wolves are leading the Falcons 26-22, but still .
Everything I do just doesn’t feel right, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
And I have no doubt it has everything to do with a certain strawberry-blonde I can’t get out of my head.
Every time I close my eyes, her jade ones are looking back at me.
When I look in the mirror, her sweet smile is right there, reminding me of everything I lost. Of who I fucking lost.
The ref blows his whistle, calling for a penalty on one of the Falcons’ players during their third tackle. Zane gets to his feet, but not before patting the other guy on the shoulder—a silent apology for the rough tackle. He jogs over to get in formation, shaking it off.
I shove my hand through damp hair, tugging at the roots. Fuck . I desperately wish I could shake whatever the fuck is going on with me, but nothing I do seems to work. Is it possible to get out of this funk when my thoughts are consumed by the woman who slipped between my fingers?
It’s ironic that Phil put the no-dating rule in place so the team didn’t get distracted, but now my head is all messed up because I no longer have his daughter in my life.
Funny how that works.
The Falcons put a tap on the ball and rush forward.
Needing to let go of the built-up tension in my shoulders, I rush into the tackle.
Grabbing the guy around the waist, I drag him down to the ground, pinning him in an awkward angle that has him groaning.
Pain shoots down my leg when his knee makes contact with my right quad.
Fuuuuuck. Why did I do that?
The ref calls, “Held!” and I jump to my feet, backing away from number ten.
But before I can take two steps back, the burly man has his hands fisted in the front of my jersey.
His deep brown eyes are filled with a rage that I’ve only ever seen out on the field.
It’s what I like to call frustration mixed with pure adrenaline pumping through your veins.
“What the fuck, man!” he shouts, spittle landing on my chin.
I clench my jaw, both from the pain throbbing in my quad and anger at the audacity of this fucking guy.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to get fucked, or take my aggression out in another way that could see me sin binned for ten minutes.
Instead, I grit my teeth and shove at his chest, needing him away from me before I do something I might regret.
He stumbles back, heated eyes holding mine as he joins his teammates.
Huffing, I turn to join the formation on the forty-metre line. Khai shoots me a what the fuck look, but I shrug in return. I don’t know what he wants me to say how other than I can’t think straight and I feel like I’m drowning.
Just as the whistle blows, I sweep my gaze toward the grandstand where Mia sits.
I insisted on her coming to the game tonight, if only to distract her from what’s happening in her life.
But now she’s seeing me in a state she’s never seen before.
I see it in her eyes. As my twin, she can read me like a book with no ink on the pages.
She knows I’m distracted and playing like a pile of sloppy shit.
Fuck, every Wolves fan in the crowd can see it.
And until I see Tatum, I don’t know how I can snap out of this state.
“I know we won against the Falcons tonight, but where the fuck was your head out there?” Khai hisses from beside me, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. “Shit has hit the fan with Tatum, but don’t forget what we’re fighting for here.”
I grimace, running a hand down the side of my face. Freshly showered, my skin is still clammy, and the cologne I sprayed moments ago clings to my skin. “I know, I know. You don’t need to remind me how shit I played tonight. Trust me, I’m going to be kicking myself for the rest of the night.”
Khai drops his eyes to where my hand rubs my right thigh, something that has become second nature to me these past few months. Realising my mistake, I halt my hand, but it wasn’t quick enough. He saw.
Shit .
His eyes widen as he points a finger at my chest. “Did you hurt yourself again?”
Maybe. “...No.”
“Sin!” Khai slaps my shoulder and shoves his hand through his hair. “When did this happen? And why didn’t you say anything?”
Exhaling a sharp breath, I drop my head in my hands, left leg bouncing wildly.
“It happened during one of the last tackles of the game. I copped a knee to my quad, and since then, it’s been sore as fuck.
Not as bad when I proper fucked it in round five, but enough that I’m worried it’s going to be a problem. ”
“Yeah, a major fucking problem, you idiot.” Khai closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly.
“Sorry. That was harsh. We’ve been under a lot of pressure these past couple of weeks while fighting for the top spot on the leaderboard.
So the last thing we need is for our star halfback to be out on injury again . ”
Sighing, I lift my head, staring at the empty row of lockers ahead.
Most of the team has left the sheds, ready to celebrate the 32-22 win over the Falcons.
But I haven’t moved after getting back from the showers.
I’m sure Mia is wondering where the hell I am, but I can’t bring myself to walk out of the room.
I don’t want to worry her about my possible injury, nor do I want to let on to Phil or Todd about it.
If Tatum were here, she would know what to do.
My fists clench on my thighs.
But she’s not here, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Shit, man, I know. But don’t worry, I’ll get it sorted out.”
The club is yet to replace Tatum, unable to decide on a candidate as good as her, especially after speaking with the team.
Everyone sang her praises, which makes sense given how driven and passionate she is about the job.
It showed in the smiles on the face of the guys when they left her office, or even how I was able to stay on track to recover from my injury in the projected timeframe.
As far as the team is concerned, no one can replace her.
And now we’re left with a Tatum-sized hole that can’t be filled.
“You need to get it checked out sooner rather than later, or else you might injure yourself further.” Khai claps a hand on my shoulder, pale eyes simmering with a hint of sadness that stabs at my gut. “No word from Tatum?”
I shake my head, hands fisting the material of my athletic shorts. “Radio silence and it’s fucking killing me.”
My friend sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on jean-clad thighs. “I know it’s hard, Sin. You two were great together. I could see it in the way you smiled at her when you thought no one was watching, or hung on every word that came out of her mouth. It’s clear you have feelings for her.”
Blowing out a breath, I shove my hand through my hair, trying to ignore the ache forming in the depths of my heart. “It doesn’t matter what I want. How can I get her back if she won’t talk to me?”
Khai hums, tapping at his chin. “I guess you need to get creative then.”
I frown. “Creative?”
Instead of explaining his words of wisdom, he reaches for him gym bag and stands, clapping my shoulder. The goofy grin on his face has me clenching my jaw. “Yes, Sin. Get creative. If you want to see her, you’ll find a way to do it.”
He leaves before I have the chance to call him an idiot for leaving me hanging like that.
Huffing, I push off the bench and reach for my bag. If I don’t leave the sheds soon, Mia will storm in looking for me. And the last thing I need is for her to see the half-naked guys still lingering in the room, talking with some of the staff members.
When I step into the hallway, I hear Khai ask my sister, “Hey, younger Baxter. How’s the hair?”
Stepping towards them, my brows furrow. “What?” My fingers graze over the ends of Mia’s dark brown hair. A strange residue coats my skin. “Why is your hair all sticky?”
The three of us make our way towards the exit, where our cars are parked in the back lot of the stadium. Cool air whips at my exposed skin, and I have to fight to keep my teeth from chattering in response. The heated seats in my Audi are calling my name.
Mia chuckles. “A girl poured her drink on me, then Khai let me sit on the team bench to avoid them.”
Was I that distracted during the game that I didn’t notice my sister sitting on the bench?
“What? Why would they do that?” I ask, frowning
“She thought I was going to steal your attention away from her.” Mia lifts her eyes to mine, and I can tell she’s biting back a smile.
I huff a laugh. “The fans can be wild sometimes.” Wild is an understatement. Most of the time, they’re respectful and know when to not push my boundaries, and then some of them do something like they did to Mia without so much as hesitating. It’s like trying to balance on a seesaw.
“More than wild. Who pours their drink on someone’s head?” Mia muses, folding her arms over her chest.
“Girls who want to get laid,” Khai chimes in with a cheeky smile, wiggling his brows
Mia nods in agreement, but I stay silent, not wanting to comment. Khai might like the attention he gets from the female fans, but right now, it’s the last thing on my mind.
When we reach Khai’s car parked a few spaces down from mine, I tell him I’ll see him at home once I’ve dropped Mia at my parents’ place. Khai nods and slides into the front seat.
Silence settles over me and Mia until we reach my car, and words tumble from her mouth. “What happened that made you play like a distracted monkey tonight?