The fans were rowdy and the beer overflowing at the tavern. Charlie and Stub kept me close, and I had no chance to slip away before the team arrived. Charlie handed me a beer and I downed it quickly. It felt good to drown my sorrows. Going back on my word to never drink again was like thinking I could cast away my self-doubt because of the thrill over a ball game.

The shouts suddenly grew louder and people began cheering. The team had arrived. Fans passed beer hand to hand over heads until the players were guzzling their first glass. This went for both teams. Everyone just seemed- happy. Everyone but me. I downed the second half of my third beer like it was a shot of whiskey.

Charlie and Stub started a serious conversation with Ron and I saw my chance to get away. I turned and ran straight into Joel's chest. God, he smelled goodclean with no dirt anywhere in sight.

He leaned in, his breath hot across my ear, "You okay?"

How could I answer that honestly? I couldn't speak, just shook my head. He took my hand and started pulling me to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He opened a side door and ushered me into a hallway with a couple of offices. The noise was still deafening. He pulled me inside one of the offices and shut the door behind us. It wasn't exactly quiet, but it was much better than it was in the central room of the tavern.

I was stubborn and swore I wouldn't cry, so I was shocked when I realized a tear was streaking down my cheek. Joel wiped it away.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said softly.

"I really just want to go back to my room and forget the past twenty-four hours ever happened."

"You want to forget our breakfast this morning?" He sounded hurt.

My voice cracked as I said, "N-no, but everything else."

Something passed over his features. I couldn't read the expression. For some reason all I wanted to do was run my finger along the ridge of his scar. I was drawn to his imperfection, or at least drawn to uncover the pain he suffered.

"You look good in red," he said in a husky voice as he pulled my shirt away from my skin just below my bra line.

He was dressed in jeans and a red t-shirt similar to mine. He looked wonderful and it didn't help that I knew what his t-shirt covered. "Joel, I had sex with your brother last night."

He did the last thing I expected. His fist hit the door behind my head. It wasn't hard, but it startled me. "Don't you think I know that?"

God, he suddenly looked so angry.

"I feel like a slut. Hell, I am one. Please don't make this harder on me." He was so close, and all I could do was close my eyes hoping he would be the smart one. His forehead met mine. I could smell his breathbeer, musk, unique. Fuck.

"Friends," he said, and my eyes snapped open.

I breathed in and out a few times. It was his sincerity that had me answering, "Friends."

He watched me for several long moments until finally he took my hand again. "I'll walk you back to your room."

"Thank you." I turned to open the door.

Joel stopped me. "Cami?"

I slowly looked up and our eyes locked.

"Stay away from Van." He didn't say it gently.

"Not a problem."

He released my hand and opened the door for me. I wove through the laughing crowd as a song started up. Everyone began singing. I'd never heard anything like it and stopped for just a moment. Joel's large hands grasped my waist and he moved a little to my side. He nodded his chin toward the door. Half of me wanted to be part of the after-match celebration, but the other part needed some downtime. Just before I turned to walk out, I realized Joel was blocking my line of sight. He'd done it on purpose. Van stood about ten feet away with his arms around blonde boobs and her friend. I couldn't get out of the tavern fast enough.

Joel released me once we were outside, at least until I stumbled. "How much did you have to drink?" He took my arm and didn't let go.

"Two or three beers. I'm pretty much sober now, it's just my two left feet."

I liked his laugh. I liked him holding me. We were both laughing by the time we got to my room. "Tomorrow is my only day off. I'd like to see you, as a friend," he said before I opened the door.

Why did my heart speed up? "This isn't a good idea. We-"

He interrupted me. "It's a great idea. I'm not my brother. We'll take a drive, enjoy some good food, and get to know each other."

For some strange reason I wanted to. "No alcohol."

His eyes went stormy. I'd said the wrong thing. "Don't worry, not my style." I watched him consciously unclench his jaw before continuing. "I'll pick you up at ten-thirty tomorrow morning if that works."

I could only nod my head and escape into my room. After leaning my back against the door for several minutes, I headed to the shower. As I rinsed off, I remembered Joel's words about alcohol not being his thing. Was alcohol Van's thing? Did he enjoy making girls tipsy? I shook my head. Dammit, I knew my limits. I could have said no at any time. It was the whole hot-muscled-body phenomenon that I couldn't resist.

I didn't exactly sleep. I tossed, turned, and berated myself for being so stupid. At nine the next morning, I decided to call Joel and cancel, but realized I didn't have his cell number, only Van's. There was no way on earth I was calling him.

After I accepted the idea I was going out with Joel today, I emailed the first installment of my series after adding a little about yesterday's match. It began with-

If you're a fan of sports balls, rugby may be for you.

I could only hope Miller liked my humorous approach. I decided to dress casually and put on one of the two pairs of shorts I brought. These were white. One of my too-tight sports bras came next. I added a simple, loose black t-shirt and black sandals with a one-inch heel. The shorts came in at about two inches above my kneesstylish without showing too much skin. This was the real me. The other Cami was a fluke, or more likely freak.

Joel knocked on my door a few minutes early, but I was ready. He wore a pair of blue and white board shorts with a royal blue t-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. I locked my gaze to those beautiful eyes because his shirt looked painted on. He had too much bulging muscle for my sanity. I needed to think of him as something like a brother- friends.

I could do this.