Kane’s POV
‘What did I miss? F.uck, did someone die?’ the voice of our second string reserve drags my attention up as the younger player slides in next to Marcus, ahalf drunk beer in his hand, as he looks around at us all in confusion.
Falan, the daughter of the owner of the bar, appears with another tray of drinks as he stares at us, these ones including a couple of cocktails and something clear on ice that she places in the middle of the table before she gathers up the empties and leaves again.
Dalton shakes his head after she leaves, his easy grin now back in place as he glances at me in amusement.
‘Nah,’ he replies, tilting his drink toward me, ‘Grim here just shocked us all, he turned down a sure thing . . . we aren’t sure what to do with that information.’
The second stringer’s
