It’s honestly quite rude of that couple to show up here today because hello? I don’t have anyone looking at me like they’re so deeply in love with me that some sixteen-year-old soccer player comments suicidal jokes. And I want that so badly.
“Okay, you can stop. Except for Dove and Elio. You may do another ten squats.” Fair punishment for being in love if you ask me.
“Seriously?” Elio cocks his head in annoyance. “It’s not my fault you’re single, Coach.”
“Well, no. But it is your fault all the others, including me, will have to watch you be all in love while we wanted to spend today wallowing in self-pity.” Or at least that’s what I wanted to do today. Along with eating a whole cake by myself because that’s what I usually do on my birthday, minus the alcohol this year.
“Right,” Nolan, the kid who keeps on commenting funny things whenever Elio so much as glances in Dove’s direction, says. “I didn’t sign up to feel my lunch come up every other second today.”
Dove flips him off, kissing her middle finger to be extra provocative.
God, I love these kids.
I might find the toddlers easier to handle because they rarely talk back, and when they do, it’s easy to quiet them. But these kids right here, they understand jokes. Instead of starting to cry, they insult right back—jokingly, of course. If I sense something having been serious, they’re spending the entire hour either doing more exercises than necessary (the people involved only), or I’ll turn it into a lecture like some teacher.
“Anyway, let’s do penalty shootouts next.” I blow into my whistle to signal the beginning of the next exercise. One can never do enough ball-kicking toward the goal, right? “All of you.”
But neither of them jumps to action like they usually do. Each of their gazes stay fixated on whatever’s behind me, so I turn around to see what has caught their attention.
When my eyes land on a guy with black hair, carrying more than one fucking balloon in his hands, I almost pinch myself to make sure I’m not just seeing things.
What is he doing here? It’s been almost eight months since he told me to leave him alone because talking seems like a bad idea.
But more importantly, how the fuck did he find me? I never told GreywhereI worked or what my work times were. He doesn’t even know where I live exactly.
Bringing my hands to my hips, I stare at Grey like he’s some alien that fell from the sky. And honestly, he might as well be. When he approaches me, I expect him to be all rude as always, but that’s my favorite kind of Grey.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes instead of either keeping quiet or saying something slightly insulting.
I narrow my eyes at him, thinking about whether to accept his apology or not. Ah, who am I kidding? He could throw me out of a plane without a parachute and I’d be okay with it. Grey just needs a little time to warm up, I knew he wouldn’t ignore me forever.
I have that kind of effect on people.
“Well, it’s a surprise to see you onValentine’sday,” I say, grinning again. He always makes me smile for some unknown reason. I swear, I don’t usually smile as much when he’s not around. I mean I do, but it’s far more when Grey does happen to be near me.
Grey shakes his head. “It’s your birthday.”He remembered, but why?“So, happy birthday, Luan.”
“Thank you.”
Grey looks over my shoulder, probably counting all the teenagers standing there, ogling him. They’re not watchingme, that much I know.
The blame’s on him for looking too stunning for his own good. My eyes feel blessed from some higher power above every time I get to look at that handsome face. Not even holy water could erase some of the thoughts running wild inside of my head when I look at a picture I find of him online.
“Shit, that’s Grey Davis,” one of the guys says a little excitedly.
“Who the fuck is Grey Davis?” another asks.
“That guy!”
“Not a very known soccer player then.”
“He plays ice hockey, dude.” Nolan scoffs. “Don’t disrespect a legend like him ever again.”
I just know Grey is agreeing with Nolan, even though he keeps said agreement unheard or unseen.
Grey looks back at me, his frown deepens a little and fills with concern. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
I wave my hand around to show him I don’t give a flying fuck about that. “How’d you find me?”
