Page 51 of Out of Bounds

“I don’t think that was a work conversation,” Talia sang teasingly.

“That was most definitely not a work conversation,” Sax added.

“Oh shush! Pay attention to the game. It’s about to start.”

“Team hasn’t even taken the field!” Heather chided. “Out with it!”

Taking another large bite of her salad she’d been ignoring, Felicity just shrugged, pointing to her mouth, indicating that she couldn’t talk since her mouth was full. The look on Heather’s face told her that her long-time mentor knew she was hiding something but was going to let her keep her secret. She’d tell Heather eventually. Maybe.

Truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure what that secret looked like out loud. She was sleeping with the coach? No, they were hanging out. Hanging out? What was she, seventeen? It wasn’t dating, was it? No, they’d just fooled around. Except, Gunnar was right, it was more than just sex. She liked him. Maybe not like liked him, but he was more than just some fuck buddy. Was she…catching feelings? No, no way. She didn’t do feelings. Just because some of the things he said gave her the warm fuzzies, didn’t mean that there were feelings involved.

Unless she wanted it to involve feelings. Not that she was sure of that either.

The first half of the game flew by as the three of them sat at the bar eating and laughing, with Saxony, Link, or Devlin popping by as work allowed. Having this kind of girl time had always been something she’d enjoyed, and she was happy that Talia was now a part of the group. Felicity still didn’t know a whole lot about how the actual game itself was played, but the team looked decent enough to her, holding New York to a zero/zero score. Just before the clock ran out, however, the referee reached into his shirt pocket and brandished a yellow card. Apparently one of the New York players had hit the ball with his hand, awarding the Rising a penalty kick.

Felicity felt her stomach lurch as Dash stepped up to where the ball was placed. Her heart started to race as she watched the young South American do what seemed like a little dance before kicking the ball, tricking their goalkeeper into going the other way and watching the ball hit the back of the net. Loud cheers filled the bar as everyone celebrated the goal. Felicity, however, was unable to take her eyes off the screen as the camera panned to Gunnar, a smirk taking over his face. Butterflies filled her stomach as she watched him walk off the field, his smirk growing wider. It was as if she could read his mind, knowing exactly where his thoughts were.

She better make sure her phone was charged.

Chapter Eighteen

It was no secret that the New York Nighthawks were a tough team and that the Rising were going to have their work cut out for them tonight. Gunnar knew that he had a solid squad, but they were still learning each other’s habits, and that sometimes came with errors that should be avoidable. An experienced team would know how to take advantage of that. The Rising, however, had managed to come together and stick it to them—and Gunnar could not have been prouder. They’d gotten lucky with the handball just before the half. Now they just had to hold on to that lead.

“Nice job, lads,” he told them as they sat in the locker room during half time. “We’ve got the lead, so now the name of the game is to keep it. Other than Dash and Tiago, I want everyone one thousand percent focused on defense. We’re gonna park the bus. Midfielders, make sure you’re listening to Michaels—he’s going to read their attack best.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and after a few more gulps of water they headed back out onto the pitch. The excitement radiating off of them was palpable, each guy ready to do whatever was needed to bring home the win. The small group of Rising fans who had traveled up to New York to watch the team play cheered as they passed them, fanning the excitement even more. A surge of pride washed over Gunnar as he watched his team wave to fans, knowing that these guys wanted to win not only for themselves, but for the group in the stands and all those back home. They may be an expansion team, but there was already an identity forming and the players were all in. It was a great feeling.

Of course, Gunnar had his own, slightly more selfish reasons that made maintaining that lead crucial. Felicity’s suggestion of making their call tonight a little more “hands-on” had instantly filled his mind with all sorts of dirty things and had sent all the blood rushing straight to his dick. Not what he needed right before a game. He’d brought it on himself though, teasing her like he had. It was just so damn easy, and he could picture just how flustered she was as she read his messages—especially if she was in public. For a moment he considered a cold shower before they took the field, just to get his head on straight after all those not safe for work thoughts. Thankfully Cowboy had shown up and started spouting off stats about the opposition, bringing his focus back to where it needed to be.

Now though, his head was fully in the game, saying a silent prayer that his players had whatever was needed to withstand the kind of blitz that was coming. Glancing over at Liam, he gave the young man a stern nod, silently reenforcing his faith in him. Liam nodded back, messaged received.

“Seriously, how many shots on goal is that?” Cowboy muttered from behind Gunnar about twenty minutes into the half. Gunnar hadn’t realized his buddy had been standing there, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the former defenseman’s lament. “I swear they’re up to like two hundred.”

“Or four,” Gunnar corrected him.

“That’s way more than four!”

“I understand that as a former center back you understand the battle they’re waging,” Gunnar said, gesturing toward the field. “But I thought you were able to count.”

“Says the holding midfielder, Mister ‘I just stand in the middle of the field,’” Cowboy muttered, a teasing lilt to his Texas drawl. “But Daley is looking sharp.”

“He is. I’m happy with the communication between him, Michaels, and Henderson. And despite that comment that first day, Elliot has turned out to be a solid player.”

Cowboy nodded in agreement, and Gunnar turned back to the field just in time to see Fritz Bender slide tackle one of New York’s forwards, who leapt over him like a fox over a log. It was a clean tackle, Bender coming in contact with nothing but the ball, placing it right at the feet of his twin. As if on cue, Hans sent the ball soaring up field toward Dash, who was ready and waiting. Dash misread the pitch slightly, the ball landing a couple of steps in front of him, but he recovered easily, weaving around the defender until he was one on one with the goalie. Pulling his right leg back, Dash launched the ball toward the net. It sent the goalie diving, and Gunnar leaned forward, as if his own actions would propel the ball into the goal. Unfortunately for him though, the lean didn’t seem to work, as the goalie batted the shot away, sending the ball out of bounds.

“Damn it,” Cowboy cursed.

“Good thought, Dash,” Gunnar hollered at his player, who was shaking his head as he walked back to midfield. “Just a little higher next time.”

The rest of the game went by without any more chances like that one, however, with the majority of it spent in their own half, the opposition peppering Liam shot after shot. By the time the ref blew the final whistle, even Gunnar had to admit that the official count seemed a lot lower than what he’d witnessed. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he felt it buzz in his hand, his heart sinking a tad when he noticed the text was from Talia and not Felicity.

Talia: Congrats on the win!

Regardless of his initial reaction, his heart filled with happiness as he texted her back. He liked knowing that his daughter had watched the game and that she was settling into a life that she enjoyed. What he liked even more was the idea that maybe she had watched him with the woman who was currently settling into his thoughts.

You work in very strange ways, Anya…but I’m listening…

Making his way back to his room, he was dead tired, the adrenaline crash making him feel almost like he’d played the game. But his mind was whirring with thoughts of just what was waiting for him once he got there. They’d held on to that one-nothing score, giving them the win, and he had every intention of collecting his prize.