Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(19)

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll just—”

“No!” She shoved against my chest this time.

I wasn’t a violent man, or even really aggressive, but the fact that she just shoved me like I was about to attack her pissed me off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Was it my imagination or was she shaking? “You’re the one who wants to go into the girls’ locker room alone and grab my . . . bag.” It’s like as she said it she realized how crazy she sounded, or maybe she was just embarrassed. “Never mind, I’ll see you at home.”

She shoved away from me and ran down the hall fast enough for me to stare after her in utter confusion.

I gave my head a shake and pushed the locker-room door open and went in search of her bag.

It was black.

Shocker.

I walked over to grab it and tripped over a cleat that I didn’t see, sending the bag sailing to the floor. A few things spilled out.

Advil.

A water bottle.

And lastly, a prescription pill bottle with the label rubbed off.

And suddenly everything made sense.

Her anger.

Her irritation.

The way she was easily set off by anything or anyone.

Disappointment hit me so hard I had to sit. I shoved everything back into her bag as quickly as I could, then grabbed my cell from my pocket and dialed one of my contracted doctors on staff.

She answered immediately.

“Yeah, it’s Matt,” I sighed. “I’m going to need you to come in tomorrow morning, first thing. I need a full physical and drug test. Yeah, new client. I think she might be doping.”





Chapter Ten

PARKER

I woke up feeling like a million pounds of trash had been stuffed into a semi and frozen with water and then rolled over my body several times before pinning me down.

Maybe that was a little exaggerated, but I was sore everywhere. My mouth even hurt, though I think that had to do more with clenching my teeth than anything. I’d thought the run home would make the panic go away, and then I realized that I’d left everything in my bag, and I do mean everything. Even when I didn’t take any of the pills, I kept them with me at all times, just in case.

I’d been trying to wean myself off them for the last two months, but the nightmares still came.

It was the only thing that kept the monsters away when it got real bad.

Thankfully, when I got back to my room my bag was sitting on my bed as if it had been there the whole time.

Everything locked up tight.

I’d breathed a sigh of relief and promptly taken a shower, ready to face the next day of training with all the enthusiasm of getting a root canal.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved soccer.

But the training part? Where my muscles hurt so bad I was afraid I was going to have a problem sitting on the toilet? Not my favorite part.

I winced as I sat up in bed and then slowly pulled my feet over the side, trying not to inhale too deeply, since it hurt to breathe. I walked like a grandma to the shower and searched for some Tiger Balm to rub on my body. I barely got one cupboard open before I heard his voice.

“Looking for something?”

“Your whistle,” I said with a hiss. “So I can flush it down the toilet.”

“I sleep with it under my pillow, and I have a spare.”

“Now that’s a dream come true.”

“What?” I could feel him behind me.

I turned. “Strangling you with the whistle cord while you sleep.”

His lips twitched. “Doubt you’re strong enough, but you’re welcome to try.”

“Don’t tempt me.” I tried not to slump, didn’t want to show any weakness as his eyes raked over me. “Did you need something? Other than some morning banter to go with your coffee?”

“Sore?”

“You have no idea.”

“I bet I do.” He looked behind me like he was searching for something and then faced me again. “You’ve got your physical first thing this morning and then we train some more. Your tryout for the Reign is set for next weekend.”

“Two weeks!” I yelled. “Actually we have less than two weeks!”

“I’ll get you there,” he said softly. “Just remember you have to do your part too.”

“My spleen did its part yesterday,” I grumbled. “Trust me.”

“Can I?” He seemed surprised that he’d said it as he narrowed his eyebrows and brushed a hand through his thick beautiful hair. “Can I trust you?”

I gulped. “Can I trust you?”

“That doesn’t work with me. You can’t answer a question with a question. Can I trust you? Taking you on could ruin my reputation, you know.”

“Or it could make you a genius for signing the highest-paid female soccer player in the world?” I offered lamely.

His eyes drilled holes into me. “Don’t make an ass out of yourself, out of us, alright?”

Us? What was this us business? I was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door.

My tongue suddenly felt thick as I remembered my last physical . . . Focus. I could do this. I could do this.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be doing a drug test as well,” Matt said flippantly as he left the bathroom.