Page 67 of Penalty Kick

“I am good. Promise.”

“Mahoney!” Avery called, peering around the group. Dash turned, catching the deer-in-headlights look on Mahoney’s face as he realized Avery was talking to him. “We’re headed out to a brewery. Wanna come with?”

“I’m good. Thanks though.”

“You sure? It’ll be fun.”

“Got a book with my name on it, but thanks.”

“Is it weird that he never wants to hang out with you guys?” Avery asked once the midfielder was out of earshot.

“No,” Liam answered. “Every team’s got a guy who likes to keep to himself.”

“Ride’s here,” Elliot said. “Last chance.” Pointing at Dash, his teammate raised his eyebrows in question.

“My answer remains. I will see you at breakfast.”

The group murmured their goodbyes, echoing the part about breakfast before turning to go. Dash watched as they all piled into the SUV, not a single part of him feeling like he was missing out by staying in. His plans were much more exciting.

“Never thought I’d see the day Liam goes out after a game, but Dash doesn’t,” Cowboy said, walking by. “You feeling okay?”

“Sí. I simply am not in the mood for beer.”

“Not in the mood for beer? Who are you?” Cowboy exclaimed, feigning shock. At least Dash thought he was acting. He wasn’t truly surprised, was he?

“I’m glad to see that you learned your lesson,” Gunnar added. “You’ve shown us a different side to you these last few weeks. I’m proud of you.”

Proud enough to let me date your daughter?

“Gracias, Coach.”

With a nod of his head, Dash turned on his heel, powerwalking away from the bosses. Their accolades were nice. A one-eighty from the conversation they’d had not that long ago. All the nice words in the world from Gunnar and Cowboy weren’t enough to keep him here though.

Ten minutes later he was in his room, changed out of his team gear and into sleep pants, laid out on his bed. Glancing at his phone, he did some quick math, figuring Talia should be home by now. Dash just couldn’t remember if they had discussed who was calling whom.

Flipping to his texts, he started to tap out a message, telling Talia to call him when she was able to. Her face flashed on his screen before he could hit send, a smile spreading across his face at the sight.

“Hola.”

“Hola yourself,” she responded. Her voice was fun and flirty, sending a ripple of happiness through him.

“How was your shift?”

“Good. We were slammed. Away game plus bachelor party equals complete chaos, in case you are wondering.”

“I will make a mental note.”

“I would ask how yours was, but I was able to watch the game. I saw your goal.”

Dash’s heart soared. Being back on the pitch felt like a dream—the lights, the energy, the crowd. All of it had pulsed through his veins like a drug, giving him a feeling that only football could. One that was almost as good as being with Talia. Knowing that she was watching made him feel that all over again.

“Did you now…” he commented.

That goal had been for her. He might have told the reporters after the game that it was for the team, to show them that he was still their striker after his absence, but that hadn’t been the whole truth. Yes, he wanted his team to know that. He was sure they did know it. The reality behind it all though was that the person who believed in him the most, the person who inspired the most change in him, was Talia. That was why he’d chosen the celebration he did.

“I did. The cameras also caught what you did after the goal. And…I loved it.”

“Good. It was for you.”