Free Kick (Completion Series) by Holly S. Roberts

“Would you like a closer look at my veins, Cami, so you can see if I’m telling the truth?” The rough words were soft, tempting, and sexy as hell. When had Joel flipped his curmudgeon switch?
    Darn my light skin and blushing cheeks. Damn my affinity to muscular men and athletes in general. I gazed back into his eyes, ignoring my rising temperature. “Several people have mentioned that rugby is in their blood, but no one gives a good explanation. Do you think you could try?”
    His eyes continued to challenge me. “I can only imagine what Van told you,” he said with a touch of disgust.
    My cheeks grew hotter and the shy part of me came charging to the forefront when I least wanted it. I wanted to hide under his desk.
    “ It’s about passion—the fans, the match itself. More importantly it’s about the camaraderie and deep commitment by everyone. The men and women who play rugby respect each other. The fans are loyal to their color but have respect for the opposing team. There isn’t another sport that rivals a rugby player’s or fan’s passion.” He ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, subtly flexing his muscles. His sexuality wasn’t on purpose like Van’s—Joel’s moves were completely natural.
    Maybe that’s why my shyness dissipated and I suddenly wanted to feel Joel’s bulging arms around me.
    Seemingly knowing where my thoughts were heading, his voice grew huskier. “I’m not explaining it well enough because it isn’t about words; rugby just is.”
    God , his passion. And damn my raging sexuality. As this realization hit, Joel smiled. It wasn’t like the previous one. This was full out and uninhibited. His scar ran from the outer corner of his lower eyelid to the edge of his upper lip; jagged edges that pulled the skin of his cheek tight. Scar tissue made the ridge of the scar more pronounced. I wanted to touch it. Touch him.
    I realized he watched me closely, his smile fading. “Next question ...”
    How many times could I ask myself what the hell my problem was? I looked down at my notebook to give me some time. When I glanced back up, Joel’s gaze was glued on my face and I could barely think. “What position do you play?” Lame, but it was all I could come up with. My notes made no sense whatsoever.
    “ Full back.”
    At my blank , or maybe it was a sexually dazed look, he described his position. “I’m the last line of defense. When I’m not on attack, it’s all about the hands.”
    “Hands?” His were monstrosities double the size of mine , and I couldn’t help staring and imagining his hands smoothing along my skin. I think he was internally laughing at me. It was something in his eyes. He seemed to know I was fascinated with every part of his body.
    “Go od hands are important in rugby,” I choked out.
    “Good hands make a rugby player.”
    Not a glimmer of teasing came with the words. So why did I feel a sexual pull to find out exactly what those hands could do off the field? I was having trouble concentrating and happily didn’t push when Joel said he needed to get back to the gym. He didn’t walk me to my car, only opened the door at the front entrance to the stadium.
    “Cami?”
    I gazed up as I ducked under his arm to get out.
    “My brother is bad news. I love him , but he doesn’t treat women well.” His blue eyes appeared darker with the warning, or maybe it was the shadowed entrance.
    I moved away before speaking because under his amazing arm was not a place I could linger. “Thank you. I’ve received that specific warning from several people.” I felt his gaze burning into my back as I walked to my car.

Chapter Ten
     
    For the first time , I watched league rugby matches opposed to sevens and union on YouTube. I don’t know what I expected, but being confused even more wasn’t it. I shut down my laptop and headed for a local fast food drive-through for a salad.
    I was on the field again at two. From my discussion with Van the evening