A Lad That Can Beat the Whole Lot
Bella had Edward's number. She knew his game exactly. It wasn't uncommon for Irish hurlers to come over to the States and play, but the fact that Edward was using an alias was a giant red flag. If his teammates knew him under an assumed name, that meant he had something to hide. And the only thing he could possibly need to hide here was being illegally registered with the Gaelic Athletic Association. As a registrar, Bella wondered briefly if it was her duty to report something like that. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she contemplated the answer.
"You getting a drink or what?" asked Whitlock's new girlfriend, Alice.
Bella hadn't realized she was still bent over with her hand in the cooler. It was beginning to numb from the ice. She smiled sheepishly at Alice and poured two cold beers into red plastic cups, handing her one after she closed the cooler.
Alice narrowed her eyes. "What're you staring at over there, anyway?"
"Oh! Uh…I, uh, just thought I recognized someone." Bella knew she was caught, however, when Edward strolled by their tent and held her gaze, raising an eyebrow and giving her a tense smile. He did recognize her. She gave an awkward little wave.
"Isn't that the guy from the pub last night?" Rosalie's too-loud whisper startled Bella, making her jump and slosh beer on her bare leg.
"Yeah," she answered. "I think so."
"He's good. Really good."
"Yeah," Bella said again. She couldn't help but wonder briefly what else he was good at.
