“Professionals who happen to have chemistry,” he said lightly. “You can’t fake that, Sloane. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
The nerve of him. I didn’t want to think about Connor having chemistry with anyone, least of all me. “You really think this is about chemistry? That photo isn’t a win for me, Connor. For you, it’s a headline. For us, for me, it’s a risk.”
His smile faltered. “Risk?”
“Yeah.” I folded my arms tighter, ignoring the way my pulse kicked. I was on the precipice of a breakdown, and he unfortunately was caught in my firing line. “You get called confident.” I stab at his chest. “I get called a distraction. There’s a difference, and I don’t have the luxury of forgetting that.”
He shifted, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “You really think a photo’s going to damage your career? It’sjusta photo, Teddy.”
“It’s not aboutme.It’s not just a photo—” My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. “This is our inaugural season. Half the world still doesn’t take women’s rugby seriously, and now there’s a picture of me pressed against you trending with a hashtag about us being together. That’s not coverage—it’s clickbait. I didn’t work my ass off to get here for that.”
For a second, he didn’t have an answer. Then he scratched his jaw. “Didn’t think of it like that.”
“Yeah, well…” I said, trying to steady my breathing. “We’ve fought to be seen as athletes first. And now our first big article isn’t about the team; it’s about me standing too close to you.” I heaved all the air out, let my lungs suffer for a moment, then inhaled again. My dad would see that article, I had no doubt, and it would serve the narrative he very much believed, alongside the very small amount of faith he had in my career.
“I just thought…” He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “It was good press. For both teams. People talking, sharing it—more eyes on rugby.”
“It’s not the kind of attention we need,” I said, and my eyes burned with frustration. Sex and relationships sold, I understood that, but I never wanted to be at the forefront of it all. Especially with… Especially with an O’Riley.
“Then I’ll fix it.”
My head snapped up. “You can’t fix PR.”
“I can try,” he said simply. “I’ll talk to the Knights’ media rep, make sure they shift focus back to the campaign, take the heat off the shoot and move it back to the sport. You shouldn’t have to shoulder the fallout. We can make a statement if you want to redirect the narrative.”
It shouldn’t have caught me off guard, but it did—the sincerity in his voice, the absence of ego, even though I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I’d been coupled with him, and everyone already thought we were sleeping together, so the damage was done.
And yet, the same feelings flooded me from when he got me that damn tank top earlier today. I didn’t know this Connor at all.
“Why?” I asked, heat coating my words. “Why do you even care? Why are you beingniceto me?”
“Because you care.” He gave a small shrug, a hint of that infuriating smile returning—but this time, it wasn’t cocky. “And because I’m not the bastard you think I am.”
My gaze narrowed.
I wasn’t used to this side of Connor. There were plenty of times in college when he could’ve opted to help me out, but he always chose the one-up. His ego and need for success always took front row, which is why we were so perfect against each other. We would fight and push until one of us was victorious. It was also why, in the end, he did one-up me, and I hadn’t been able to let that go. He was my benchmark for four years—the one I measured myself against, the standard I refused to fall below.
And now here he was, saying all the right things, making it sound like he actually meant them. The sport needed male allies, but could I trust him? More importantly, did I want to?
Maybe that was worse because I couldn’t correlate the two people. And that’s what they were, two different people. This Connor was, dare I say it, more mature, softer somehow, whereas I was harder, more difficult. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel, that guarding myself was second nature now. Was it the fight for the sport that had hardened me?
Either way, now wasn’t the time or company to be debating that.
“You don’t get to swoop in and act like you’re the patron saint of women’s rugby. You didn’t care in college, don’t pretend to care now.”
His eyebrows knit. “You think I didn’t care?”
“I think…” I swallowed, heat rising to my cheeks. “I think you cared when it benefited you. But what is your real reason for today? To be the hero again? To take the win from me?”
Something flickered across his face. Recognition of the memory I’d dragged out between us.
“That was years ago, Teddy. And I’m not trying to beat you now. I’m trying to help clean up the mess.” He let out a breath, steadying himself, and my arms instinctively crossed over my body. I would let him have this, though, see if he really could help at all. Right now, I didn’t believe it.
“Fine,” I said, even though it didn’t feel fine. “See what you can do.”
“Fine,” he repeated.
And that was as much as either of us was going to give.
