“Good showing tonight,” James tossed out as he walked past. “Shame we handed them the win though.”

Shoving my shampoo bottle into my locker, I grunted a non-committal reply that made him laugh as he disappeared behind the red tile wall leading to the showers.

Going into the match, we’d been in the top three in our conference, and fifth overall in the league, but tonight’s narrow loss to my former team meant our ranking would plummet. All we could do now was sit back and wait to see how Cork, Cardiff, and Belfast played tomorrow to determine just how far we’d fall.

All week I’d fielded barbs—both good-natured and snide—from these guys about how I’d perform against my old teammates. As the only Edinburgh try scorer of the night and having led our pack in tackles, I had nothing to apologize for. Personally, I’d played my ass off, even if the team as a whole hadn’t. It pissed me off that we were months into the season and we still weren’t playing as a cohesive unit.

I never took losses well, but what made tonight’s even worse was that it had come at the hands of the team that had cut me loose; that the coach who’d said I was washed up, burned out, and not worth the organization’s investment would return to Dublin a winner. I liked to think I’d disproven his comments on the pitch tonight, but the results spoke for themselves: Dublin had won, Edinburgh had lost, and there was nothing I could do to change that outcome.

“You heading out with us?” Rory asked, his skin a mottled shade of scarlet from the ice bath he’d just vacated. “Beth has a friend in town she could hook you up with. Girl’s a fucking stunner.” He held his hands in front of his chest to indicate her most stunning attribute was her breasts.

“Nah, but thanks.” I shrugged into my blazer and turned to face the small mirror on the inside of my locker so he wouldn’t see the guilty look on my face. “Places to go, people to see. You know how it is,” I added, adjusting the knot of my tie, the crimson, navy, and cream tartan design popping against the bright white of my heavily starched dress shirt.

While I did have people to see tonight, it was also the fourth or fifth time Rory had invited me out with the promise of a beautiful girl on my arm—or my cock. Like any one in a happy, committed relationship would have done, each time I found an excuse why I couldn’t. Except, they were all lies.

If Lachlan and I stayed together, at some point, I’d probably have to invent a fake girlfriend back in Dublin to keep my repeated excuses from sounding too suspicious.

Hamish sauntered past, buck naked except for a pair of striped socks on his feet. “You gonna meet up with O’Shaughnessy so he can give it to you up the ass again?” His loud, booming laugh echoed off the ceiling tiles.

Rory’s eyes went wide with worry, and behind me someone muttered, “Dumb fuck doesn’t know when to keep his trap shut.”

I slammed my locker and pulled a deep breath into my lungs, mentally preparing myself for the consequences of beating my teammate to a bloody fucking pulp in front of a horde of witnesses. I knew what happened next would get me benched—or possibly kicked off the team entirely—but I’d warned him once already about this shit.

I took two angry strides toward Hamish, but Rory blocked my path. “Just ignore him.”

“No,” I said, leaning around the smaller man and spearing our prop with a death glare. “What the fuck did I tell you before, asshole?”

“What?” Hamish asked, pulling his head through an undershirt. “What’d I do?”

Rory closed his eyes and sighed. “Dude, you need to watch it with the gay slurs.”

“Huh?” Hamish asked, his gaze darting around the locker room as a crowd began to form.

James walked up next to me, his hips wrapped in a towel and an ice pack taped to his shoulder. “What did you say this time, fuck nut?”

“All I said was …” Hamish paused as recognition passed over his features. The second he realized why I wanted to murder him, his face turned red. “Shit Liam, I’m not calling you a fa—gay or anything like that. All I meant was that Dublin pounded us all real good tonight. I was just joking about you going back for seconds since you’re friends with them and all.”

I studied him, looking for any sign that he was lying, but his eyes were innocent and his face was utterly devoid of malice. Hamish wasn’t a hateful man; just a really fucking stupid one.

But not so stupid that he didn’t know when to ask for mercy. “I’m sorry man; I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wasn’t thinking. You know I have a big fucking mouth.”

“Yeah, you do, and that’s a problem. You need to get that shit under control.”

“And you need to control your temper,” James remarked, squeezing my shoulder. “We can’t afford to have you benched for any of our upcoming matches. Hendricks is good, but he can’t handle those Fijians they got playing in Paris.”

At twenty-one, Hendricks was my back up, while the Fijians in question were some of the biggest, baddest motherfuckers I’d ever played against. He’d need to put on at least two stone before he could even think about going head to head with their massive pack.

I relaxed my stance, falling back on my heels. James was right. There was a reason he was our captain; he kept his eye on the prize, even in the midst of a brewing storm.

Hamish might be an idiot, but I couldn’t let him derail the work I’d come to Edinburgh to do. I had two, maybe three, good years left in me, and I wanted to spend them as the starting number eight here. If I let his words impact my performance or my place on the team, I had no one to blame but myself.

I took another step back and put my palms up in a show of surrender. “Point taken.”

Dropping the subject, I turned back to my locker and the crowd broke up, leaving Hamish, me, and James the only ones in the room.

A few moments later, Hamish stood next to me. “Look man, I’m sorry.”

Zipping up my bag, I ignored him, but Hamish wasn’t one to give up easily. It was a good trait in a prop; not so much right now. “I just want you to know I don’t give a rat’s ass that you’re gay.”

My eyes shot to his. “What did you say?”

Hamish glanced around to make sure no one was listening, but everyone else had already left. “I’m not going to out you or anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder and trying my best to avoid his probing stare.

As I moved to step around him, Hamish placed his hand on my arm. “I saw you with him. The chef.”

I stopped dead and searched his broad face—looking for what, I didn’t know. Recrimination? Disgust? Anger?

But even though I didn’t see any of those things, I denied it. With a sickening drop of my stomach, I denied my feelings for a man I just might be falling in love with. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lachlan’s just a friend.”

Hamish’s lips twisted to the side. “You kiss all your friends like that?”

Fuck!

Lachlan and I had been so damn careful. I couldn’t think of one single instance when we’d even touched in public. Obviously, that wasn’t right though. We must have fucked up somehow—I just couldn’t figure out when or how.

Hamish scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, so, your man might want to invest in some blinds or something. Or maybe, you know, don’t let him kiss you in front of the window.”

With mounting dread, I fisted my hair at the roots. “Fuck,” I blurted, turning to pace the length of the room. “Fucking Christ. Goddamnit stupid eejit. I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

Eventually, I reigned in my panic and came to a stop in front of the big, barrel of a man. “When?”

“Six weeks, maybe seven? Yeah, that sounds about right.”

I blew out a frustrated breath, and my hands fell to my side. “How come you haven’t said anything?”

Hamish cleared his throat. “Honestly, it’s none of my business who you fuck. I only care about what you do on the pitch.” He looked away, and his cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “I know I’ve said some shit, but I promise you, I am not a homophobe. My sister’s, uh, I just found out she’s a lesbian.”

“Bravo for you,” I sneered, immediately regretting my abrasive tone. My life was in this man’s hands; pissing him off wasn’t a good way to go about keeping my secret safe. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “CeeCee’s not out, either. Well, not officially.”

I laughed, the sound leaving my mouth sounding like a cross between a cynical wheeze and an irritated snort. “Me either. Obviously.”

“I’m not going to out you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I scrubbed my palms down my face, digging my fingers into my flesh. “How did this happen?”

I’d meant it as a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway. “It’s my experience sex has a way of making you do stupid shit you wouldn’t otherwise do.”

“Yeah, it does.”

Hamish crossed his beefy arms over his chest and planted his feet. “So, listen. I know you think I’m an asshole, and you probably don’t like me much, but if you need anyone to talk to, you can uh, you know, give me a call or something. Talking with CeeCee, I have a better idea of what keeping secrets can do to a person, and since you don’t have anyone else here …”

I hung my head in shame. Twenty minutes ago, I’d been ready to plant my fist in his face, and now he was offering me an olive branch.

Raising my eyes to his, I extended a hand toward him in gratitude. “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, no worries.” He cleared his throat again and then went back to his locker. Slinging his duffel over his shoulder, he added, “So, uh. When Rory tries setting you up with one of Beth’s friends, you can tell him you’ve already got plans with Mandy and me.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to drag you into my lies.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be a lie.”

“Come again?”

“You and uh—Lachlan, right?—yeah, you and Lachlan could hang out with us sometime … if you wanted. I know Mandy would like it.”

I offered him a sad smile. “That’s nice of you both, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

For the first time during our exchange, Hamish appeared disappointed in me. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. “Anyhow, have a good one.” Before stepping through the door, he turned back to me one last time. “If you change your mind though, you know where to find me.”

I wouldn’t, but I appreciated the sentiment.