Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance by Abbey Foxx

“Yep.”
    “I should be worried about my safety.”
    “It wasn’t like that”, he says.
    “How was it like?” I ask.
    A year in prison, built like a fucking tank, tattoos all over his arms and chest and a smile that would stop a jet plane, there is no other word to describe Rory O’Connor but dangerous. I should be worried about my safety, I’ve seen what this man is capable of and I know just how powerful he can be, the thing is, I’m not. I’m intrigued, turned on, excited just to think about the possibilities. Scared? A little bit. Worried about what he’s capable of? Maybe. Worried enough to run away as fast as I can? No.
    “I did something I shouldn’t have done”, he says.
    Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but not asking is like being given a box with a big red button and trying not to press it.
    “What something?” I say.
    I’m not sure why but I’m super turned on right now. Even more turned on that I was when he first approached me over a year ago and said those magical, panty-dropping words.
    “I hurt someone because they were hurting someone I love”, he says.
    “Some people call those people heroes”, I offer.
    “Not everyone”, Rory says.
    “So what did you do?”
    “I made sure he wasn’t able to hurt her again.”
    “Ouch.”
    It’s clear Rory isn’t comfortable talking about it, and definitely not proud of what he felt like he had to do.
    “Yeah, well, I made a choice”, he says.
    “And now you’re paying the consequences.”
    “Now I get to sit here and talk to you.”
    “Who was the girl?” I ask, worried for a moment I might have competition.
    Rory notices the look I give him and smiles, comfortable again with the situation. “The most beautiful woman in the world and the person I owe everything to”, he says.
    “Now I’m getting jealous.”
    Rory laughs. “Don’t be. I’m sure you feel the same way about your own mother.”
    “We have our ups and downs”, I say.
    “We do now too.”
    “Your father must have been a real dick”, I say.
    “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
    “Is that how you know how to fight?”
    “Everyone in Ireland knows how to fight”, Rory says.
    “Clearly some better than others.”
    Rory shifts in his seat, to lean over the table towards me. “I’m telling you because we’re getting to know each other and you have a right to know, and because you’re a season ticket holder, and I hope that means we’ll become friends with each other and talk a lot more about your life and mine”, he begins, “nobody else really knows, not the full details at least, anyway. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of thug going around being violent with people without reason. Some people think that because they see what I’m like on the field, and because I’m big and strong, that’s what I’m like away from it too. My father was a bad man for a long time and it finally got to the point where I felt like enough was enough. My mother still hasn’t forgiven me, of course. How fucked up is that?”
    “It’s always different from the inside”, I offer
    “When you know somebody?” Rory asks.
    “Exactly”, I confirm.
    “Yeah, I guess that’s true. So there it is, I didn’t have a choice”, Rory says, leaning back into his seat. “Or I had a choice and I made it, and now I’ve got to suffer the consequences.”
    “A least you’ve had some time to think about me.”
    Rory smiles. “There is that I suppose”, he says.
    “My story is far less interesting.”
    “You mean that alleyway thing isn’t a regular event?” he asks.
    I look at him coyly.
    “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find people as committed”, I say.
    “Maybe you’re just looking in all the wrong places.”
    “Or those kind of things only happen once every blue moon.”
    “Just say the word”, he says.
    “It’ll never be as good the second time around, it never is”, I say wistfully, although I don’t really believe it, I just want to see how he