Capítulo 10: Chapter 10: Rowen, Part 2

Christian ignores him, instead looking over at me and pointing at Daniel with his thumb. "Our captain here decided to take Quincy to his mama's house for dinner. Have you ever had her fajitas?"

I shake my head.

"They're to die for. I could go for some right now." He turns to Daniel. "Make sure to tell her I'm coming over next time we have a Sunday off." Daniel rolls his eyes.

I furrow my brow. "What am I missing?"

Daniel groans. "Can we not talk about this? I just need time to sort it all out."

Christian ignores him and keeps talking to me. "Apparently it didn't go over so well when one of the brothers accused Quincy of dating him for his money. So our captain here hasn't spoken to his family in over a week. Which is why he's been a whiny little bitch lately. Haven't you noticed?"

"Enough," Daniels cuts in. "We're not talking about this anymore. I don't need my personal business floating around the locker room."

Christian snorts. "It's not like the rookie makes a habit of spouting off in the locker room."

Daniel stops and thinks through his drunken haze, probably coming to the realization that I don't do much talking around the team. I'm not shy. I just don't have to hear myself talk all the time. "Okay, right. But still. Shut the fuck up. I'll sort it out."

"Fine," Christian says as he picks up his beer off the counter. "New topic. How the fuck did that asswipe Shivel end up here? I thought he wasn't invited."

"He wasn't," Daniel says and leans against the fridge, probably so he doesn't fall over. He's gonna have one hell of a hang over tomorrow. "Funderling brought him. I wasn't happy about it but it's not like I could kick him out."

Christian grunts in disapproval. "At least the rookie here is taking all his money."

I smirk. "Makes up for all the times he tries to rile me up."

"So you noticed it, huh?" Christian says. I nod.

"Kind of hard to miss when he makes it a daily habit."

"He's just intimidated," Daniel says with a shrug. "He knows his days are numbered so he's doing whatever he can to take you down with him."

"Daniel." Christian gives him a look that I'm pretty sure means "Shut the fuck up."

"Um," Daniel falters. "I… uh…"

I smile at him. "You can relax, Captain. My old man already shared the gossip with me."

Daniel relaxes back against the fridge. "Oh yeah. I guess he would know before I did."

Christian looks back and forth at us. "Am I missing something? Why would your dad know anything about this?"

"Dude," Daniel says before I can stop him. "His dad is Ryan Flanigan."

I watch as Christian goes through this mental inventory of names before finally realizing why it sounds familiar. His face lights up as he looks at me and I know my face is probably starting to turn red. Damn Irish roots.

"No shit, Rookie?" he asks excitedly. "I knew you looked familiar but I figured I've just played against so many people, you just all look alike after a while." Daniel snorts a laugh at the unintentional racial comment.

I tug my beanie down over my ears a little more. Nervous habit. "I don't really want the team knowing. Don't want them to assume I'm here for any reason other than my abilities."

Christian nods in understanding. "Totally get that, man. You don't have to worry about me. Just keep Shivel from finding out. He'd have a field day with that."

"He has a field day with everything else," I grumble before I can stop myself.

"Yeah, speaking of cleat chasers," I bristle when Daniel uses the term. "He was really getting onto you about Tiffany. What's going on there?"

This time, I know my face is bright red. I don't like talking about this kind of thing with virtual strangers. It's one thing to have a frank conversation with my dad. But I don't know these guys very well yet. I tug on my beanie and take a drink of my beer. It's no use. These two have the patience of Job when they want information. I finally give in.

"Nothing going on there. He shoved me into a bedroom at the last party, I guess for some sort of weird initiation thing." I shrug. "Tiffany was there. But like I said, we just hung out for a while."

Daniel eyes me skeptically. "You like her."

I scoff. "I… I don't even know her."

Daniel raises his hands in front of him. "Hey, no judgment here. She's been good to this team."

I can feel my hackles raise at his statement, but I'm not sure why. Why do I feel so protective over this woman's virtue? It's starting to irritate me that her name can't even come up in conversation without it affecting me.

"Speaking of," Christian interrupts. "Did you text her about tomorrow's clinic?"

"Oh fuck," Daniel says. "Totally forgot. Do you think it's too late?" He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket.

Christian shrugs. "Even if it is, she'll get the text first thing in the morning. The earlier she gets it, the more time she has to get a camera crew out there."

I look at them, confused. "Wait, what?"

"She's a sports producer for a local TV station," Christian clarifies while Daniel texts, probably spelling half the words wrong in his stupor. "When Daniel says she's been good to this team, he's not kidding. She's gotten us more coverage than most local soccer teams get anywhere else."

"Hey, Rowen! Get your ass back in here so we can win our money back!" someone shouts from the other room. Christian slaps me on the shoulder as he heads toward the sounds of an anxious poker crowd.

"She's a nice girl, Rookie," he says as he walks by me. "If you're interested, ask her out. Fuck what Shivel says about her. He's a dick about everyone."

"Yeah, um, thanks." I stumble through my words. A sports producer. I was not expecting that.

"Text is…. sent," Daniel says looking up from his phone, a confused look on his face. "Where did Christian go?"

I smirk and gesture with my thumb over my shoulder. "Back in there."

"Better start shuffling so they can steal more money from me," he mutters to himself as he grabs his beer and stumbles towards the door.

"Oh, hey Daniel," I say, stopping him before he walks through the door. He looks at me, eyes glazed over. "Sort this out with Quincy. You've been a dick to be around lately."

He grunts in acknowledgement and keeps walking, while I reach into the fridge to grab another beer.

A sports producer. I smile at the thought. Tiffany has just gone from interesting to intriguing.

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