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31
What Have I Done?
GIBSIE
When the sun came up on Tuesday morning, Claire was still in my bed. With her wild curls strewn over my pillow and her adorable kitten-like snoring filling the silence.
Body rigid, I kept a firm arm wrapped around her waist, too afraid to move an inch. The memory of last night’s antics had tormented me to the point where I hadn’t closed an eye all night. I supposed the plus side of not sleeping meant that I hadn’t wandered off on any late-night adventures, but it didn’t give me much comfort.
Because I had fucked up. Because I’d tainted her. This beautiful, willful, loyal, and innocent girl. I’d put my hands on her when I had no right to and crossed the point of no return. Still, as guilt-ridden as I felt, there was no denying that her presence was stabilizing me in a way I’d never felt in this house. Not since my dad moved out, at least.
The sound of my phone vibrating on my nightstand had my heart leaping in my chest, and I quickly reached over to snatch it up.
“Cap,” I whispered when I answered the call, feeling a huge sense of relief come over me. “What’s up?”
_______________
“I have to say, lad,” Johnny mused forty minutes later. “I’ve never seen you get ready so fast for the gym,” Standing above where I was perched on the weight bench, he continued to spot me. “Usually, I have to drag you from the bed kicking and screaming.”
“Hmm,” I replied, unable to find it in me to toss a lighthearted comment out. Nothing about me felt light this morning. Especially when my conscience was weighing me down so heavily. Ignoring the bead of sweat that was trickling down my neck, I focused my attention on bench-pressing the 120kg barbell upward.
“Christ, Gibs, did you wake up in beast mode?” With his brows raised, my best friend continued to spot me. “You’ve gone up an entire weight bracket overnight.”
Because I’m mad, Johnny. Because I’m fucking furious with myself, and if I don’t burn some of this tension out of my body, I’m going to scream.
“You okay, Gibs?”
“I’m always okay, Cap.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“It’s all good,” I forced myself to say. “Just full of beans this morning.”
“Well, save some of those beans for St. Andrews tomorrow.” he chuckled, catching ahold of the barbell and setting it into place. “Because they have a serious forward pack, and I heard their number 13 is talking shite about how he’s going to end my career before it starts.”
“Not on my watch,” I bit out, standing up for him to take my place on the bench. Moving into position to spot him, I added, “I’ll take the head clean off the bastard if he even looks at you sideways.”
Johnny chuckled and reached for the bar. “Never doubted you for a minute, buddy.”
32
You Let Him Do What?
CLAIRE
When I woke up on Tuesday morning in Gerard’s bed, the side of the mattress he’d slept on was vacant. In his place was a haphazardly scribbled note on his pillow that read, Early morning training x in his handwriting.
I’d somehow managed to ninja-sneak my way across the street without getting caught by either set of parentals, but when I found my brother in the kitchen eating breakfast before school and not training like Gerard’s note had suggested, I felt a wave of uneasiness sweep through me.
Surviving Hugh’s in-depth interrogating, I had made it to school with my dignity intact, but that wave of uneasiness continued to fester and grow with every class that passed.
I knew the boys had a rugby match tomorrow afternoon against St. Andrews, and before game days, it wasn’t uncommon to not hang out together, but the fact that I hadn’t managed to snag one single opportunity to talk to Gerard all day gave me the distinct impression that he was avoiding me.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was his absence at big lunch. When Johnny arrived at the rugby table without sight or sound of Gerard, I hit my limit. Because if Mister Serious Captain had time to eat lunch with his girlfriend, then that was all the evidence I needed. Gerard’s absence had nothing to do with scoring tries and everything to do with scoring girls.
