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The team goes silent as they lay eyes on the girl who’s skipping across the field toward us. I’m certain it’s not her hair flowing behind her that they’re looking at. It’s the way she’s ridiculously styled a Crawfield jersey by tying it in the front much too tightly, exposing most of her midriff and toned abdomen while pairing it with some skinny jeans and heels.
“Aw, were you guys all lined up to meet me?” She places her hands on her chest adoringly. “That’s adorable, I’m so…woah!”
She doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence as she stumbles over her feet, face-planting into the green—and I’m not just talking about the grass. Within a moment, the whole team rushes to her side, and Daniel Green is the first to reach her.
“You alright, love?” the boys all ask one by one, leaving me with an unfamiliar sense of discomfort, not because of their concern but because of their desire to get their hands on her.
Her cheeks are slightly flushed, but she flashes an effortlessly brilliant smile as she takes Green’s hand and thanks him, bringing herself to her feet. Clearly, she doesn’t mind the attention as she laughs in response and tucks her hair back into place. “Whoops. Gramps always did say that I was a bit of a klutz.”
It’sher.
I clear my throat loudly, ending the conversation abruptly as the lads turn around to face me. All the while, the girl looks up and directly into my eyes for the very first time.
“Hi!” She confidently struts her way over to me despite the fact that I’d basically just witnessed her make out with the ground. The rest of the team trails behind, likely making sure she looks just as good from the back as she does from the front. I don’t need to. I’m already convinced she does. “I’m Delaney Matthews.” She reaches her perfectly manicured hand out to shake mine. “And you are?”
I analyze her for a moment. God, this girl has the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen. The most delicate of features. Soft lips, rounded cheeks, and a faint layer of freckles along the bridge of her nose.
Holy shit.
She’s definitely nothing like Ira or Hank.
She’s her own.
“You’ll have to excuse Coach.” Wilks walks over, slinging an arm around Delaney before I can reciprocate her handshake. “He’s hardly ever around women.”
Delaney giggles while I scowl.
“Back in line, Wilks,” I say between ground teeth, prompting him to shoot me a mischievous grin.
As he removes his arm along Delaney’s shoulder, she takes a moment to brush the remaining green off of her hands and onto her skinny jeans. “And do you have a name,Coach?” she asks, and I almost don’t want to give her the answer just so that I can hear her call me that over and over.
I’d never been a fan of the American accent—it was always too peppy-spirited, but her voice is sweet—a forbidden nectar that I know I shouldn’t be enjoying the sound of as much as I am at this moment.
“Warren.” I have to swallow in order to resolve this massive lump that’s formed in my throat. “It’s Warren Park.”
A stint of silence falls between us until she flashes me another doe-eyed gaze. “Well,Warren Park,” she says my full name back to me like a symphony humming through my mind. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I nod in response, letting the silence settle between the two of us before the team eventually chimes back in.
“You going to introduce us or what?” a few of the boys call out, causing an uproar from the rest of them.
“Yeah, introduce us, Coach! Don’t be shy.”
Delaney bites down on her bottom lip as she turns back towards the team. “Don’t worry, boys, there’s enough of me to go around,” she teases, causing a few glances and not-so-subtle obscene gestures amongst the lads—she doesn’t take notice of it, but I do. Something inside me prompts me to shut it down, and it’s almost so instantaneous that I don’t have time to question it.
“Delaney,” I say her name for the first time out loud, noticing how smoothly it rolls off my tongue. “This is the team. Team, this is Delaney Matthews, joining us from Houston, Texas. She’s going to be your new…”
Shit, what the hell is she here to do again?
“Public relations manager,” she finishes my sentence for me, saving me the trouble yet leaving me to wonder what in theworld that is. I left school at sixteen to play football full-time. Life outside of the stadium might as well be a foreign language to me—let alone career titles.
“And uh—what exactly is that?” Wilks asks the question I can tell that everyone is wondering. I’ll thank him for that one later.
“Well…” Delaney places her hands on her hips, looking up in thought. “I’m here because I want to make you guys the most popular soccer team in all of England!”
I have to fight the urge not to roll my eyes while the team bursts into laughter for a number of reasons. First, because of Delaney’s absurd enthusiasm, and second, because of her use of the forbidden word “soccer.” She really doesn’t know a single thing about us. Just like I’d told Alf—this is going to be a joke.
“Listen, babe,” Green is the first to put his two cents in. “The reality is, we may get two hundred and fifty peoplemaxat a game, and that’s when the tickets are free, and our extended families are in town. So explain, how on Earth are you going to convince a country of over fifty-five million people that we’re the best?”
