It couldn’t be. She was at a teacher’s convention that weekend. In Alabama. Or at least that’s what Frida had told her before she left. Em leaned forward to get a better look at the girl on the screen. She was looking down at the field, blissfully unaware that the camera was on her.
ItwasFrida—and she was wearing the limited-edition jersey that Em had spent a fortune on.
Em turned off the TV and started pacing back and forth in her living room. Her best friend had flown all the way to Oregon to watch a Storm game without her. What was worse, she had lied about it.
Em tried to think of the reasons Frida would go. As far as she knew, Frida wasn’t even that big of an MASL fan. She hadn’t started going to games until recently.
She sat back down and pulled out her phone. Her hands shook as she texted Frida and asked her how the conference was.
Her response came just a moment later.It’s okay. Boring.
Em squeezed her hands into small fists. Was everyone she cared about going to disappoint her tonight?
First it was Grant with their pseudo-breakup. Then, Frida had lied about where she was. The only person who hadn’t betrayed her was Finn.
Finn.
All the air swooshed from Em’s lungs as the realization hit her. Frida was there to see Finn play. She was sure of it. And they’d been keeping it a secret. Em couldn’t believe they’d been lying to her. She wondered what else she didn’t know.
Her fingers flew across the screen.How long have you two been dating?
This time Frida took much longer to respond. Em’s finger tapped impatiently on her thigh as she waited for an answer. Eventually it came.
How did you know?
So, it was true. Seeing the words hit hard even though she was sure her suspicions were right.How long?She asked again.
Frida’s response came faster this time.Two months. I wanted to tell you, but Finn thought we should wait.
Two months? That was a long time to keep a secret, and Em only knew her best friend and brother were dating because of an Oregon cameraman with a sense of humor.
She wanted to cry, but she’d already shed enough tears that day. Em powered down her phone, turned the TV off, and went to bed—though it was several hours before sleep finally overpowered her.
Grant
Grant walked into Big Results,alone.
He could now walk without his crutches or a limp, but he still had another week until his doctor and the Storm’s athletic trainer would let him do regular workouts with the rest of the team.
Not that he wanted to see the rest of the team after what had happened.
Since the scene in the locker room, Grant hadn’t had more than a passing “hello” with his roommates. Grant tried to leave the team house just before his roommates got back from Big Results. That way he wouldn’t see them at home. And by the time he got to the gym, they’d all cleared out. It had been working out perfectly.
Cool air hit him as he entered the large building. He might not have been allowed to workout as hard as he wanted to, but he could still focus on his core and upper body—as well as run through the exercises he’d been given to strengthen his ankle and promote faster healing.
Grant didn’t put any unnecessary strain on his foot other than when he’d blocked the ball for Em. He followed doctor’s orders to a tee in hopes of getting back to the game sooner, but now he wondered if that was what he really wanted. Of course he wanted to play. Soccer was his life. But everything that happened with Finn tainted the game for him.
Grant lifted some weights from the rack and started doing bicep curls in front of the mirrored wall. He was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t notice Bastian until he’d finished his first rep.
The defender crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re a hard guy to get a hold of.”
Grant didn’t bother holding back his groan. “What are you doing here?”
Bastian took a long drink from his water bottle. “I thought I’d spend some time working on my arms.”
Grant highly doubted that. He set the weights back on the rack. “Why are you really here?”
Bastian released a long sigh. He jerked his head toward the front of the gym. There was a small in-house café with several small tables in front of it. “Wanna sit for a minute? Get a smoothie?”
