Scoring Wilder(10)

Oh goodie. He'd be helping me perfect my skills as a midfielder. Unfortunately, about ten other girls also fit that bill, including Tara and Sofie. Becca and Emily were both defenders, so I wouldn't even have them to joke around with.

"Does anyone have any questions for me?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Becca whispered beside me, and I kicked her under the table.

Liam must have noticed her whisper because he glanced over toward us. His grey eyes met mine and I almost choked on my own tongue. It was the first time we'd made eye contact since he arrived that morning and I should have given myself more of a pep talk. He's a normal person. Don't let him take over your brain. It was no use. He wore his black t-shirt in a way that made me lose focus on everything beyond his reach. His tattoos were just barely visible. His hair was mussed on top like he'd run his fingers through it when he’d rolled out of bed.

And I was expected to concentrate when he was around?





Chapter Four


"Let's get started." Coach Davis clapped her hands after we'd all lined up in small groups. We were starting the day off with sprints. I predicted I would throw up mid-way through my first one. But who knows, maybe I wouldn't even make it there.

"How are you feeling, Birthday Girl?" Liam asked as I stretched out my calves and hamstrings. I was the last one to go in my group, so no one else could hear us.

"This is going to be pitiful. I didn't think we were going to have actual practice today." I shook my head and stared straight ahead, trying to take deep breaths to calm my stomach.

"Why would you think that?" he asked with a small smile.

"I realize it seems dumb, but the vets said that usually we just talk and stuff on the first day. Hence, why I went crazy for my birthday."

"That's unfortunate," he nodded just as Coach Davis blew her whistle for the last group to line up.

Good news, I didn't actually throw up until the fourth sprint, and to Liam's credit, he only grinned after covering his mouth with his hand.

If he wasn’t my coach I would have flipped him off.

On the plus side, at least I knew the answer to the did-he-think-I-was-sexy-or-not question. That would be a hard no.

I was midway down the field when he had to leave early for his LA Stars practice. He waved to Coach Davis and spun around to jog toward his car. I didn’t realize how much I’d enjoyed having him there until he was gone. Even if he was finding quite a lot of amusement in my agony, hearing his words of encouragement had helped somewhat.

After he left, we kept conditioning until my legs were falling off and my stomach was completely empty of all the cake and shots I'd consumed the day before. Still, as I was walking off the field, I contemplated how sad I felt about not getting the chance to talk to him before he left. Even a simple “bye” would have felt good.

What the hell kind of spell did he put me under last night? Snap. Out. Of. It.

"Rough first day, Bryant?" Coach Davis asked as I made my way out of the locker room.

"I swear I'm in good shape. It was my birthday last night and I wasn't expecting to go this hard on the first day."

Coach Davis nodded and clapped me on the back. "Make sure you’re more prepared for tomorrow.”

"I will, Coach."

Becca and Emily followed me into the ice baths and we relaxed in our sports bras and shorts until I felt completely numb.

"This feels painfully awesome," Becca noted, "but that practice was much more intense than I was expecting."

"I know!" I complained.

"Do you think the vets might have been lying about practice?" Emily mentioned in a hushed tone, as if she was scared they'd overhear us. Most everyone had already gone home or had found another ice bath in the building to heal their aching muscles.

"That would be so bitchy. I think I threw up like three times," Becca groaned.

My stomach rolled in response to her admission. "No more vomit talk. Sheesh... Becca, where are you from?" I asked.

"Dallas, Texas. Born and raised, y'all," she said with an over-the-top wink, and all of a sudden I could totally see the Texan in her.

"Oh my god, did you compete in pageants? You have the pageant thing going for you with the freckles and blonde hair."

"Hell no! You've known me for like forty-eight hours and you think I would compete in pageants?"

I recalled the drunken dancing and the inappropriate jokes. "Ah, yeah. I take that back. You'd probably be more likely to sabotage a pageant than compete in one."

She laughed and propped her arms back on the edge of the tub. We could only stay in for a few more minutes before the effects of the ice started to be counterproductive.

"Were you prom queen at your school?" Becca asked me. I snorted.

"I didn't go to prom."

Her and Emily both gasped as if I’d just told them that I was actually a man.

"Oh, jeez. Don't go there. My mom was just as devastated as you're both pretending to be."

"But, didn't someone ask you?"

I thought back to how Josh and I had skipped out on prom to watch a recorded European football match with a group of friends instead. I didn’t even know who’d ended up winning prom queen.