Page 3 of Out of Bounds

“Don’t call me that,” she said, letting out an exasperated breath. She hated that childhood nickname and wished that her brother would stop using it. Then maybe others would start taking her a little more seriously. “And the only major thing is to make sure that whatever dietary restrictions the players may have, to please make sure they are on file so I can pass that along to the hotel catering staff in Florida. Gunnar has the roommate assignments, which as long as there are no major objections, I will send to the hotel so everything is ready when the team arrives.”

“Great. I’m excited for everyone to meet and start to get to know one another. It seems like a good group of players, from what I can tell.”

“I think it will be,” Cowboy replied. “We have some good league veterans who will be able to help guide those new to the league and the States, plus some great young talent.”

“Dude, how you landed the brothers Bender, I will never know, but I’m excited to have them here. My buddy Kyle didn’t believe me when I told him. Cullen had to confirm it.”

Felicity had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at her brother’s mention of his best friend. For all she knew, Kyle and his fiancée, Drea, were perfectly nice. She hadn’t ever actually spoken to them, but Dalton had said on more than one occasion since arriving back in Atlanta that they, along with the rest of the staff at the Indigo Royal Resort, were like an extended family to him. She had no doubt that after years of working there that was true—but it still served as a reminder to her that she’d been the one to help build this team from the ground up, while he was the one playing on the beach.

“That was all Gunnar,” Cowboy said with a laugh. The door to the room opened, and they all turned to see the players start to funnel into the room.

“They are excited to be here,” Gunnar said, watching his new team. “As are the guys I managed to convince to leave Dundalk. It’s fun for them to be a part of something new.”

“Thinking of the international players, I know this probably goes without saying, but please remind them to bring their passports with them next week. Yes, we’ve chartered a flight, so they don’t have to deal with TSA, but they still need valid ID and all that,” Felicity said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. A knot tied in her stomach as Gunnar looked at her, his face unreadable, making her worry about how out of line she was with her comment outside.

“I will make sure they know. You’re right, it probably should go without saying but can’t hurt to drill it into their heads.”

“Well then, shall we get this party started?” Cowboy asked, a broad grin on his face. “Let’s introduce the inaugural Atlanta Rising Football Club.”

Chapter Two

The buzz of conversation filled the room, the electricity in the air thrumming through Gunnar as he watched Dalton walk to the podium and tap the microphone to get everyone’s attention. The players all turned toward the front at the noise, taking the young man’s presence at the front of the room as their cue to sit.

“Hey, y’all,” Dalton started when the last of the players had taken their seats. He opened his mouth to continue, but the sound of the door opening stopped him.

The hulking six-foot-five, Viking-looking young man who walked through the door had a borderline sheepish look on his face, head held down slightly. If his size weren’t enough to make him stand out, the trademark backwards black baseball cap that he was rarely seen without would have given him away anywhere, at least to Gunnar.

“You’re late, Daley,” Gunnar chided, more than a little surprised that the quiet, gentle giant was the one causing the disruption. Liam Daley had been the backup goalkeeper for the first team in Dundalk for the last several seasons, after coming up through their academy system. While he’d never actually played for Gunnar, his younger brothers had, and Liam had always been more than willing to help out the kids whenever Gunnar had needed him. He’d been thrilled when Liam had inquired if the team he was helping start up would need a goalkeeper, texting Cowboy almost immediately after that conversation to get it in the works.

“Sorry, Coach, my Lyft got a flat. Won’t happen again,” Liam responded in his thick Irish brogue.

Gunnar simply nodded at him, knowing full well it wouldn’t. Liam was one of the most responsible guys he knew—way more than Gunnar was at that age—and his quiet, shy demeanor probably meant he was dying inside of embarrassment in this moment. No need to take it any further.

“I won’t talk long, because I know none of you care who I am, but so you know, I’m Dalton Sutherland, and I am the CEO of Southland Holdings and current acting president for the Atlanta Rising Football Club. Being a part of a professional football club, or soccer as it is called here in the States, has been a dream of mine since I was a kid, and for it to be a reality, well, I’ll be honest, I’m still wrapping my head around it,” Dalton said, letting out a laugh. “Just like a phoenix rising from ashes, so did the city of Atlanta over one hundred fifty years ago, and so shall you as this club takes the league by storm. I’m confident that we’ve assembled the best of the best staff wise, so I will let them do the talking. Without further ado, your head coach, Gunnar Gracin.”

There was a round of applause as Dalton stepped back from the podium, making room for Gunnar. The two shook hands, and another rush of excitement hit Gunnar. He was Head Coach. Talk about a dream come true. He’d never imagined when he’d retired from the game after Anya’s diagnosis that one day he’d be able to take on such a thing—much less with a startup team, allowing him to set the tone for how everything would be run from here on out. Yet here he was.

“Lads,” Gunnar said, addressing his team for the first time. “Welcome. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Gunnar Gracin. I spent thirteen seasons playing in the UK, four with Cardiff and then nine with Liverpool, where I was fortunate enough to play with the best of the best and bring home two Cups. I also had one hundred three caps for the Croatian National team and played in two World Cups. I’ve spent the last six seasons with Dundalk in Ireland.”

He scanned the room, watching as each of the guys in front of him nodded at his credentials. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Felicity, standing next to Cowboy, looking out over the players before turning her attention back to him. He could see the corner of her lip tugging upwards ever so slightly, barely enough to even be recognizable. Was that a smile? He liked the idea that she was smiling listening to him, thinking about him as a player.

“I want to get you lads out on the field as soon as possible, and you’ll have a chance to get to know each other at camp next week, but for right now, let’s put some faces to names. And because I’m a mean bastard, I’m going to make you all introduce yourselves. Nothing fancy required, just name and position. Liam, you start.”

“Liam Daley, goalkeeper,” he said, standing from the seat in the front row he’d slunk into after his grand entrance.

A good-looking young Hispanic man stood up just behind Liam. “I’m Hector Lazaro, but just call me Dash. I’m the striker.” There was a cocky look in his eye, matching the grin on his face. He’d been the best player on his team back in Argentina, and no doubt had the ego that came with that.

“Tiago, just Tiago,” the guy a few seats down from Dash said. He was wearing a Brazilian National team jersey, and if Gunnar had to guess, it probably had his own name on the back. He hadn’t been sold on bringing the attacking midfielder onto the roster, since his style of play was a lot flashier than Gunnar preferred, but Cowboy had insisted it would be a good move.

Down the rows they went, one by one introducing themselves. Hans and Fritz Bender, twin brothers from Germany who played defense, promised they’d help everyone know which one was which. Diego Cardoza, the other goalkeeper, struggled through introducing himself in English. Unlike Dash and some of the other South American players, it seemed he hadn’t picked up more than some basic words, so Gunnar made a mental note to make sure that he worked with him on it. He remembered being that guy in the locker room, unsure what was being said around him, and he wasn’t going to let it happen on his team.

Parker Michaels and Vance Henderson, two of the more senior players and longtime league veterans, were followed by Chance Walker, Boone Jarrett, Mahoney Holmes, and D.B. Elliot, who would all make up the midfield once they were on the pitch.

“What’s the D.B. stand for?” someone called out.

“Douche Bag,” the kid muttered in return, slumping back down in his seat without another word.

“Right, now that we got that out of the way…there will be a few more joining us throughout the season as we get moving, most notably Beau Blackwood. Once his season with Hamburg over in Germany is done, he’ll head to Atlanta. But for now, let’s hit the pitch.”