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Delaney’s arms fall to her side as she straightens her spine—seemingly giving up on this back-and-forth between the two of us.
“How exactly do you expect me to earn my way onto this team then,Coach?” she raises her brows. “I don’t know a thing about soccer…sorry, I meant to sayfootball.”
A smirk plays on her lips and now, I have to look away. I know she didn’t “accidentally” say soccer. I don’t think anything Delaney says isn’t calculated.
Good thing she’s met her match.
“Well, guess what, love?” I take a step towards her, unwilling to entertain her little games.
She hones in on my movements as she swallows, but I don’t let up.
“Tomorrow’s your lucky day. You wanna be a part of this team?” I speak. “Well then, your trial starts at six AM. Don’t be late.”
EIGHT
W A R R E N
“I wonderif Delaney has been to London before. If not, I’d happily give her a tour of my Big Ben instead!” I hear Green’s remark, followed by an abundance of laughter coming from the team’s changing room, drawing my attention away from my bee-line to my office as I halt in place.
“Yeah, right, as if she’d want to end up with you, Green,” a voice shouts above the noise. “You’re only five-foot-nine.”
“So? What the fuck does that matter?” Green says with resignation. Since day one, the guys have always opted to use his height as a weapon against him. But Daniel Green is the only one who can get some air when it comes to getting the ball—the rest of these tall tossers are too busy with their heads stuck up in the clouds.
“It matters because when she face-planted into the ground, she was finally at your eye level.”
As another round of laughter erupts, I decide to make a quick U-turn and head in their direction, my feet guiding me toward the changing room before I have a chance to rationalize and determine why their remarks are irking me so deeply.
I knew this would happen. Not only is Delaney the topic of today’s conversation, but I’m certain she’ll continue to be for the foreseeable future. The boys are losing sight, and so am I.
As I storm into the changing room in a fit, I’m faced with the sight of Green charging towards the space in front of him, headed straight towards Hart.
“Oi, knock it off!” I shout, yet they can’t hear me. They’re too busy spitting pitiful jabs at one another. Green and Hart are the epitome of “frenemies”, if such a pathetic term exists. I’ve never seen two people work so in sync on the field but butt heads the second they come off.
If my memory serves me right, I’m pretty sure their mutual distaste for one another was a result of liking the same girl. I try not to get involved in the team’s drama, but this…this I can’t stand or watch a second longer.
“I’m five-fucking-ten, you idiot. Stop spreading rumors to boost your ego,” Green protests, slamming a fist into Hart’s gut. “Besides, if we want to talk about rumors, your girl told me last night that you don’t pack a punch. Had to show her what she was missing out on.”
“I’ll pack a punch in your face!” Hart goes to retaliate, but right before his fist connects with Green, Wilks jumps in between, accepting a punch in the jaw that clearly wasn’t intended for him.
“Wilks!” Hart pulls back, visibly frustrated. “You’re a complete idiot. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?!” Wilks rubs along his red face. “What’s wrong with you two? Fighting over some?—”
“Oi!” I shout out, unwilling to see where the remainder of that sentence leads him, halting them all in place. “What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing, Coach,” Green responds, unaware I’d just watched their entire sprawl unfold. “Just talking, that’s all.”
“Just talking, huh?” I repeat, crossing my arms as I stand ahead of them. “Talking about what, then?” I play dumb to the fact that I’d just overheard the ridiculous remarks they’d been making.
The room is silent. It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop until someone finally caved, pointing directly toward Green. “Green was talking about how he’s going to show Delaney thesouthernparts of him,” one of the lads calls out, prompting the team to burst into cheers, smirking amongst themselves as if that comment didn’t just trigger a chain reaction of flying fists—surprisingly, mine not being one of them.
My face stays firm. I’m not immune to the changing room talk. I was a part of it for many years. It’s different when you’re on the outside, though, and it’s especially different when the subject matter is about the one person you can’t shake free of your mind.
“Hey, do you think Delaney owns a ranch?” Hart remarks, prompting everyone to shoot him an unsuspecting stare. “‘Cause you know what they say, right? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” He mockfully does a gallop around the changing room, prompting everyone, Green included, to stifle a laugh.
“That was a good one, I’ll give you that.” Green shakes his head in amusement as the two of them clasp hands.
Yep, back to being friends again.
