Connor
There was a beat.
A long, heavy beat where the only sound was the wind moving through the vines below us. I just stared at him.
"I'm thinking about leaving rugby."
Did I hear that right?
Had he actually said it, or was this some kind of game? One of his jokes that came out deadpan and I was supposed to laugh after. But Edward wasn't smiling. There was no humor in his face. No mischief in those pale blue eyes. No teasing tilt to his mouth.
Just this.
This bleak, quiet look I didn't recognize. The kind of look that made my stomach drop straight through the chair.
Edward was rugby. As much as I hated to admit it out loud, it was true. He was the reason the game felt bigger. He'd come in and put a new spin on everything. The press, the contracts, the way people talked about us. Before him it was just games and training and bruises.
After him it was headlines and rivalries and something people stayed up to watch.
The feud.
