Kai steps inside, gym bag in hand. “Just dropping off that equipment you needed. Sorry to barge in on you guys.”
“No problem! We’re just finishing up breakfast. Care to join? Dylan made a mean feast. Shakshuka and… what was it again? Khacha- something?” Noah gestures to the remnants of food spread across the table.
“Khachaphuri,” I say, pressing my lips together, afraid of what else might come out of my mouth if I don’t hold back.
Kai glances at me hesitantly. I give him an encouraging nod. “Yeah man, plenty left over.”
“Well, in that case, don’t mind if I do!” He grabs a plate and digs in eagerly.
I find myself watching him, struck by his muscular frame and the intensity of his focus as he eats. He glances up, catching me staring, and grins.
“This is insane, Dylan. You can cook for me anytime.”
A warmth spreads through me at his praise. “It’s nothing, really. Just a little something I whipped up.”
“Are you kidding? This is restaurant-quality,” Kai insists.
The conversation drifts to rugby as we finish up.
“So, Dylan, tell us about your experience so far playing at this level. It’s intense, right?” Kai asks.
I nod. “Definitely. The training is grueling, the competition fierce. But it’s rewarding, you know? Like cooking, but with full contact and more tackling,” I joke.
The guys chuckle, but their eyes shine with interest.
I find myself opening up, sharing stories of tough coaches, early morning practices, and the thrill of playing in front of huge crowds.
For the first time, I feel my passion for rugby being matched by those around me. The bonds between us grow stronger with each shared experience.
Killian leans forward, his expression intent. “Seeing you play ...it’s clear you’re not just going through the motions. You’re making really innovative plays. Mad respect.”
A swell of pride rises in me at his words. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you guys.”
We fall into an animated discussion about the similarities and differences between men’s and women’s rugby—training regimes, game strategies, team dynamics. The guys listen raptly, chiming in with thoughtful questions and observations.
I feel a heady rush, being taken so seriously for both my cooking and rugby skills.
These men aren’t just teammates or roommates. They’re becoming true friends, maybe even like the brothers I never had. Well, not brothers because… they don’t do things to you like these men did last night. I blush as the memories come flooding back.
As the meal winds down, the mood remains lively, but a deeper sense of connection hums between us.
Jayden grins at me. “You know, Dylan, you’re pretty cool for a roommate. Glad you ended up here with us.”
I return his smile. “Right back at ya. And if any of you ever want to learn how not to burn water, I’m your girl.”
We share a laugh as I start clearing dishes. A feeling of contentment settles over me. I hadn’t expected to find this—not just a place to live, but the beginnings of a real family.
In the warmth of this kitchen, surrounded by raucous laughter and the lingering scents of breakfast, I know I’ve found where I belong.
Chapter 35
Dylan
Iretreattomyroom after our lively breakfast, the laughter fading as I close the door. My little sanctuary, a blend of cozy and functional. Rugby gear is piled in the corner, and posters and photos from home are plastered on the walls alongside my various trophies and inspirational quotes. It’s lived-in yet tidy, reflecting my journey both on and off the pitch.
Jonah is snuggled comfortably in his cozy cat bed, one of his front paws adorably covering his face to shield it from the ray of sunshine that angles in from the large window.
I plop down on my quilt-covered bed and stare out the window, watching the leaves flutter in the breeze.