Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(26)

I handed him the balls. “Obviously.” I pushed the metal door open. “Give me ten minutes?”

“Sure.” He didn’t look back. I just shrugged and went into the women’s lockers, imagining the day I could put my gear in the shiny wood cupboards and sit in those cushy seats. When I’d see my name above one of the lockers.

It finally felt like it could happen.

That maybe I could escape my past.

I dropped my gear onto the ground and turned on one of the showers, kicked off my cleats, pulled off my shin guards and socks, then stripped, all before diving under the hot water.

It felt amazing.

I rubbed the water down my body, then quickly went over to my bag to grab one of my spare towels and soap. I always kept shower stuff in my duffel just in case. I didn’t have nice shampoo, mostly travel gear, but it was enough to get the smell of sweat out of my skull and off my body.

I wanted to stay there forever.

Probably would have been tempted.

But the lights flickered.

And then turned completely off.

Panic hit me so hard I tripped over my own feet and landed on my ass in an effort to hurl myself into the corner.

“Matt!” I yelled, my voice weak and fearful like I was too afraid to even scream. “Matt!”

Frantic, I tried standing, but my sore legs gave out on me as I wrapped my arms around them and rested my trembling chin on my knees.

“Parker?” Matt’s voice sounded worried. “Are you okay? Parker?”

“Here,” I whispered and then louder: “Here.”

The shower was still on. I was afraid to turn it off, afraid to move.

It was dark, so dark.

I rocked back and forth, teeth chattering, and not just because of the cold water.

“Parker?” His voice was closer as a body rounded the corner, cell phone high in the air. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“Yeah.”

“The power’s out because of the rain. Are you done showering?”

“Yes.” Teeth chattering, I tried to stand on unsteady legs and fell down. “Ouch!”

“Are you hurt?” His voice was more frantic this time.

“Only my ass. My pride. And my body from my masochistic coach,” I mumbled under my breath as I heard the water cut off and then saw sandals and jogger pants appear in front of me. It was too dark to see anything else, and I was afraid to look up.

Without warning, I was being helped to my feet and wrapped in the towel I had set down on the bench. “You’re okay.”

How had he known I wasn’t?

I clung to him, wet from the shower, towel barely covering my body, my mind at war with itself. Why did I trust him? I shouldn’t. He was dangerous. But he showed me that he cared. And I respected him.

Another chill wracked my body. He wrung out my wet hair and then pried my hands from him and wrapped the towel tightly around my body. “I’ll turn around while you get dressed, okay? Just tell me if you need more light.” He handed me his cell.

He didn’t even look at me.

Not like last time.

Last time he’d looked at me like he wanted to punish me.

This time, his voice was raspy.

With a bit of concern.

And something else that I wasn’t sure I could identify.

Which in turn made me shake as I dressed quickly and then handed his cell phone back. “Ready.”

“Good.” He wrapped an arm around me and guided me out of the still-dark building. Rain pounded over both of us as we ran to his SUV.

“Guess I didn’t need that shower,” I joked once we were inside with the smell of expensive leather filling the air.

He stared at me as he pressed the ignition. His gaze raked over me slowly, warming me from the inside out. “Guess not.”

And that was it. We drove home in silence.

And when we walked into the house, I didn’t miss the fact that he had his hand on my lower back the entire way.

And I’d bet money he didn’t even realize he’d been doing it.





Chapter Thirteen MATT

I had a shit day ahead of me, ending with more practice that evening with Parker. I hated to admit it, but I looked forward to our time together, and the worst part was she wasn’t just off-limits because of who I was, she was off-limits because of something that had happened to her, something bad.

I replayed images of the terror on her face in the locker room and felt even more like a jackass that I’d treated her so horribly.

Irony reared its ugly head. How many times had I told Slade not to be a jackass when Mack worked for him? How many times did I send flowers on his behalf? And this was what I learned? To go the jackass route like he had? To forget that I was dealing with another human being with their own thoughts and feelings?

Great.

I glanced around my office. Light flooded in through the sliding glass door, spotlighting my bookcase, pictures of me at the ESPYs with Slade and Jagger on the top shelf, and awards right below it. So many awards, medals, things, and yet there I sat, soccer ball in hand, wondering what the hell I was going to do about Parker. About the fear. I wanted to help, to shove it away, to pull her into my arms, and there it was again.

I wanted to touch her.

But touching her was off-limits. The woman was petrified of the dark, would she have the same reaction to me?