Page 44 of The F*ck-It List

“He attacked me!” Ross squeals, like pig.

“And you tackled him on the field completely unnecessarily, not to mention you’re a grade A prick,” Tony counters and snickers sound out around us, Ross looking incensed. “Now, either you both promise to behave, or you both hit the showers, no in between. What’s it going to be?”

“I’m good,” I grumble, shaking off the guys still holding me.

Ross doesn’t say anything straight away, still eyeing me warily like a grizzly bear passing in the woods. Someone I don’t recognise wearing the same kit as Ross nudges him firmly, making him splutter is response. “Yeah, o-okay.”

“Good, game starts now, let’s go.” Tony punctuates the order with a sharp clap and we’re all moving back to position. When I look back at Bea and Connor, he’s mouthing ‘fuck yeah’ to me and I internally groan because he’s definitely going to use this as an excuse the next time he decides to throw fists. Bea has her bottom lip pinched between her teeth and it’s not disgust or disappointment showing in her blue eyes. It’s concern and maybe something a little hotter that has blood pooling in my centre and my heart pumping a little harder.

We win the game; I may have played harder and faster than I had before and Ross may have been avoiding me like a landmine. I hit theshowers and scrub up quickly, changing into my shorts and t-shirt and hurrying out of the changing room, going straight to where Bea and Connor are packing up their table.

“That was fucking epic, man.” Connor laughs without looking up from stacking cake boxes.

“You’re traveling back with Eli,” I tell him, ignoring his praise.

“Why?” He scrunches his face up.

“Because I said so.” I turn to Bea. “Are you ready to go?”

“Oh uh…I just need to—”

“Eli will help Connor with the rest,” I say, a little tersely.

Rather than recoiling, she looks at me with understanding and nods. “Okay, I’m ready.”

I can see Connor blinking at me, clearly confused as to what’s going on, and honestly, I don’t have an explanation for him. All I know right now is I want to get Bea away from here and I want her alone, for no other reason than having slimeballs like Ross Purcell looking at her is giving me the rage shakes. Bea easily falls into step beside me, and my hand goes to the small of her back, feeling the warmth of her through her form fitting tank and the sway of her hips as she walks.

“Good game,” Bea says.

“Thanks.” I open the passenger side door of the truck and wait for her to hop up. When she’s in, she cups my cheek and looks down at me with sincerity and something like fondness.

“You okay?” she asks softly.

I nod, unable to form words and gently pull her hand away, closing the door without saying anything more because I’m anything but okay.

fourteen

No. 28: Come whilst fully clothed

Bea

August is quiet the whole ride home from the rugby club, and I don’t try to fill the silence with idle chatter. I feel he needs to ruminate, so I look out the open window and breathe in the summer air. I didn’t see what happened before the almighty crash of August throwing that Ross guy into the player’s refreshment stand, but something in my gut tells me it had something to do with me. Maybe it was the way he’s been watching me all day, or the way Eli came and asked if I was alright after it all went down even though I’d been nowhere near the action.

When August came out of the changing rooms, freshly showered and clearly desperate to get away, I wanted to provide whatever comfort I could despite not really knowing what I was providing comfortfor. It turns out my presence was what he wanted and that makes my stomach flip flop like a dolphin doing tricks.

Ross had given me serious creepy vibes when he’d stopped to chat to me outside the café the other day. Of course, I was polite and carried on the conversation, but it took no time at all for me to decide he would not be joining the ever-growing list of friends I was making in this lovely little village. He just stood a little too close, and his smile seemed smarmy. It felt validating when August came over and I realised he hated the guy, like my subconscious trusts August’s opinions.

I don’t condone fighting; I’ve never liked boxing or WWE when everyone went through a phase of being obsessed with it at school. But seeing August take Ross down like that altered my brain chemistry and my underwear got damp. There’s something about this man, probably how he tries too hard to be the allusive grump of the village, but I’ve seen and heard about all the help he’s offered throughout the years. The way he has continually tried to make up for our initial getting off on the wrong foot by doing nice things unnecessarily and without being asked. The love he has for his loud and proud family and his best friend.

I know August only wants to be friends and I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed by that, he’s hot and sexy in a way I don’t think even he realises, but I want his friendship too. I want to be in his inner circle and soak in the glowy warmth I feel in his overwhelming presence. I can put my attraction to one side until it’s forgotten and dusty.

August parks in one of a handful of bays up a slight hill from our houses, and we walk back home together. When he still says nothing,I decide to break the silence. “I put aside some brownies for you, if you’d like to come in for a cup of coffee and something sweet?”

He glances at me sideways, one brow arching and a slight pull at his lips. “Sounds like a plan.” I grin at the ground, feeling all too proud of myself that he’s willingly spending time with me. “Can I bring Darcy round though?” he asks with an apologetic wince. “He’s been home alone all morning, I feel bad leaving him at weekends.”

Such a big heart.

“Of course,” I say. “I think Heathcliff has been missing him.”