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“Who’s that?” Finn asks, clearly confused.
I smile at him. “That’s Genie.”
His brows shoot up. “That’sGenie?”
I just grin, letting out a wry chuckle. I can understand his confusion; based off the name, no doubt he was expecting a young woman with long blonde hair and stiletto heels or something. Instead, Genie—Eugene—is an African American man in his mid-forties, who’s about as tall and well-muscled as Finn. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red bandana, and flashing me a brilliant smile.
“Ellie!”
I leave Finn’s side and rush over to Genie, wrapping him in a fierce hug. “It’s so good to see you! Thanks for doing this—it’s really amazing of you to come all the way over here and help out.”
“For you, gorgeous? Anything.”
Finn clears his throat and I realize he’s moved up right behind me. In my ear, he murmurs, “Please tell me he’s gay.”
I let out a soft laugh, spinning around to arch a brow at him. “Jealous?”
It only takes a moment for his fears to be allayed, though; when Genie moves his attention to my boyfriend, his gaze is full of so much heat as he runs his eyes up and down Finn’s body I’m actually surprised Finn doesn’t catch fire.
“Damn,girl, he’s even hotter in person.”
“Eugene!”I chide.
He holds his hands up, looking not even remotely contrite. “Hey, I’m only human.” And then to Finn he adds, “But did you reallyhaveto block the screen while you were taking the panties off?”
Finn’s face flames bright red and I reach over to give Genie a sharp slap on the bicep. “Behave yourself, Genie. You’re working with minors today.”
Genie casts his gaze around, eyes widening when he catches sight of the twenty or so teenage boys gawking at him.
With a wry shake of my head, I turn back to the team. “Everyone, this is Eugene Jackson—he’s a professional makeup artist who’s come here all the way from LA to help you guys out today. Genie, this is the Carmichael Academy rugby team.” Glancing at Finn, I arch a questioning brow. “Do they have, like, a nickname?”
“The Crusaders,” Finn supplies with a nod.
“Do you do a lot of crusading around Connecticut?” Genie asks with a teasing smile.
Finn holds his hands up. “Hey, I didn’t name the team.”
“Genie specializes in doing makeup for music videos,” I tell the team. “So he knows all about applying makeup that stays on perfectly even when you get all sweaty.”
Genie steps forward and unzips his suitcase with a dramatic flourish. “Boys, let me introduce you to the world of sweat-proof makeup.”
“Oh my god,I’m so nervous,” I mutter, tugging my coat tighter around me and rubbing my gloved hands together.
“Even more nervous than when we did the laps of Le Mans in that hundred-year-old car?” Aidan asks from his seat beside me.
I scowl at him. “I wasn’tnervous.I was justwary.That car looked like it was about to fall apart.”
I scan my eyes over the field again. The other team—Westbourne—is already out there warming up, but Carmichael are still in the locker room. I left about half an hour ago when Aidan texted that he and Ben had arrived. It was perfect timing, really; we’d just finished up with applying all the players’ makeup and Finn was well and truly back in coach mode, preparing to toss both Genie and me out of the locker room so he could get the team ready for the game.
“Here they come,” Ben says, pointing down to the field.
I don’t really need the commentary, though, because the moment the Carmichael boys appear on the field, the entire crowd goes quiet. It’s actually kind of eerie. And scary. I’m terrified that someone is going to yell something, or throw something, and all this is going to end horribly.
But then, from a little farther down from us in the Carmichael section, I hear a smattering of claps.
“Wait—is that your mom?” Ben asks Aidan, leaning forward to peer down the bleachers.
“Oh, come now, don’t be arseholes!” I hear an Irish burr say from farther down. “Give the boys a cheer!”
