Call It a Favour (HIATUS)

05. After Party

Contrary to popular belief, the Wolves' after parties were not out-of-control ragers that shut down the whole block.

Don't get me wrong. These boys weren't saints. The parties probably would be tear-the-house-down ragers if they were allowed, but these boys weren't your typical rugby players. They were all here for a reason.

They were trying to get into the big leagues.

And if news got out about them partying too hard, their coaches would be on them, and their dreams would suffer for it.

So, when Corey met me at his car, I wasn't nervous about the party.

I was nervous, however, about spending it with him.

Obviously, I'd been to a few parties with Dylan in the past, and Corey was always at them. Good team spirit, or whatever. But he was the type who brooded in the corner, barely speaking to anyone, only getting up for another drink.

And now I'd have to be in that corner with him, for who knows how long?

Great.

"Try to look a bit more excited, babe," he said, unlocking the car as he approached.

I rolled my eyes, sliding into the seat next to him. "Try not to forget about me next time, babe."

He sighed heavily, turning to me with a tired look. "I didn't mean to."

His eyes met mine and the memory of his lips against my mouth ripped through my mind. I swallowed hard, trying to think of anything else.

His hair was still wet from his shower, and I could smell the musky fragrance of his soap. It really wasn't helping.

"Well, congrats on the win," I said, forcing my eyes onto the road ahead.

He shook his head, starting the engine. The car turned into the empty street. "It wasn't good enough. Dylan got a try there. For a minute, I was..."

"Worried?"

"Worried about Dylan?" He scoffed. "No. More like annoyed. Frustrated. You should've heard him bragging in the locker room. Doesn't help that the crowd and the coaches inflated his ego a bit with that too."

I frowned, sitting in silence for a moment. The game was over, but his classical music still echoed from his speakers. He didn't seem to even notice, too absorbed in his thoughts to care about something as insignificant as his Spotify playlist.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he stared out on the empty road. I could imagine the thoughts drifting through his mind. He probably regretted agreeing to our deal. It wasn't working. It had all just been a massive waste of time.

"Sorry," I said finally, slouching into my seat. "You can just drop me at home, if you want."

"What?" he said, his eyes shooting in my direction. The car slowed to a stop, despite the light being green, and he turned completely to face me. "What are you talking about, Sage?"

"Corey, the light's green."

"What are you talking about?" he repeated, his voice lower. His captain voice. I averted my eyes.

"You said it yourself. It didn't work," I said. "That Dylan didn't care about us. About me. This whole plan was a huge mistake."

"Oh, it worked," he replied.

I blinked.

"He was jealous," he continued.

"Were we watching the same game?"

"I was playing the game," he said. "And I could see the change in his game when he looked at you. He still likes you, Sage."

My heart stuttered. I spun to him with wide eyes.