I almost laughed at the stream of yelling and cursing that followed me. A crescendo of noise built around me as I got closer to the line, the crowd willing me on with every step. I curved slightly, aiming towards the posts to make the conversion kick easier for Devon. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see their fullback barrelling towards me. Wanting to be a hero.
His arms were outstretched as he hurled himself at my legs in a desperate last move. But I was close enough to throw myself across the line with the ball tucked against my chest. I felt the other guy sliding over my thighs as I released the ball, making sure it touched the turf.
The whistle blew and I grinned, my pulse pounding in my ears as I slowly climbed to my feet, only to be immediately tackled by Hunter and the rest of the team.
“Fucking smashed it,” Hunter said as he squeezed me around the chest, almost lifting me off my feet.
“You should’ve seen their faces,” Jonny said, clapping me on the shoulder and grinning. “Don’t think they know what hit them.”
“They shouldn’t leave holes then,” I said.
“We’ll keep an eye out for that,” Matty muttered as the water carriers came sprinting on with bottles for us while Devon lined up to kick the conversion. “If we can take advantage of it, we should.”
“Me and Charlie can try and keep them busy,” Danny said, squirting water into his mouth and pouring some over his mullet. “Split their attention. And if that fails, we’ll shoot someone down the middle.”
“We’ll talk about it at half-time,” Matty said. He glanced up at the clock and my eyes followed his. We had three minutes left to play before the whistle. That would be simple enough to get through.
The crowd cheered as Devon’s boot placed the ball neatly between the posts, the assistant referee confirming the kick was good with a short blast on her whistle. The score was now twenty-one to three, and felt very comfortable. But we had to be careful not to get complacent, because we’d been caught out before.
And it was agonising to lose when you’d been three tries ahead.
We put our water bottles back in the holders and jogged back into position, waiting for things to resume.
I smiled to myself as I watched the ball fly through the air.
Hopefully, Aiden was enjoying the show.
The dressing room was full of raucous noise, drinks being sprayed, and terrible singing as the post-match celebrations kicked off in style.
Fifty-five to eight. Really not a bad way to open our account for the season.
As predicted, Brighton had collapsed in the second half and if I was a better person, I might have felt bad for them. But I’d never been the most sportsmanlike player.
“Nice job,” Hunter said, sitting down next to me and handing me a can of beer. He’d stripped down to his pants, bits of mud still clinging to his skin, and I tried not to let my eyes linger on his body. There was only so much ogling I could get away with in public. Although, in all fairness, our teammates weren’talways the most observant bunch. There was a good chance they wouldn’t even notice.
“Cheers, you too.” I tapped my can against his in cheers before I clicked the tab open and took a swig. It was shit. “Fuck, that’s disgusting.”
“It’s not that bad. If you don’t want it, I’ll have it.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to drink it.” Clive only let us drink in the dressing room every so often, and I wasn’t going to waste it. He still could have gotten us better beer.
“Are you going to spend the whole time bitching about it?”
I grinned and took another long swig, trying to pour it straight down my throat so I didn’t have to think about the taste. “Probably.”
“Fuck that,” Hunter said, reaching out and trying to grab it out of my hands.
“Sod off, wanker!” I twisted away from him, chugging the rest of the can without taking a breath. I laughed as I crushed it in my hands, watching as Hunter rolled his eyes.
“Twat.”
“What? You were trying to take my drink.” I licked my lips. “Hmm, it’s not as bad if you drink it quickly.”
Hunter snorted. “That’s not the only thing you drink quickly.”
“Not true. I savour most things. I just fucking hate cheap beer. We’ve got some better stuff at home, right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
