Page 75 of Penalty Kick

Dash twisted, his head swiveling back and forth trying to figure out which way the romance section was. When he figured it out, he wasted no time dragging Talia in that direction, her glee ringing out but hopefully not disturbing the other patrons. The last thing she wanted right now was to call attention to them.

“Here we go,” Dash said, stopping in front of a shelf. He ran his fingers along the spine of the books, an intent look on his face as he tried to find the perfect title. “Mowed Over by Mae Harden. I think that sounds good.”

Giving her a wink, Dash flipped through the pages. Anticipation rose within Talia, unsure of what Dash was going to find. Mae Harden was new to her, so she had no idea just how spicy, or tame, this was going to be.

I've got my dick in hand and stroke it as she watches, licking her parted lips. She wordlessly holds up a condom between two fingers. I take it, sheathing myself as quickly as I can. Her breathing is fast and shallow, making her tits heave at the front of her dress. "Turn around," I demand gruffly.

Dash’s voice was deep and gravelly, perfect for bringing the scene to life. The anticipation she’d been feeling was now replaced with heat, her whole body reacting to him as he read those deliciously dirty words out loud. She would have to stop him soon—if for no other reason than they were expected at dinner in a few minutes. Not to mention, jumping him in the stacks of the book bar would probably get them banned for life. No matter how badly she wanted him right now.

But now I know exactly what I want for dessert…

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dash had never felt so out of place in his entire life.

And that was saying something, because he’d spent so much of his childhood as an outcast. This was different though. Very, very different.

Standing in the lobby of the small Italian restaurant, Dash reminded himself to stay calm. The eight of them—Gunnar and Felicity, Liam and Avery, Cowboy and Theo, plus him and Talia—took up most of the waiting area, not leaving room for much movement, making the moment that much more tense. Nerves were radiating off the entire group, every last one of them completely silent as they waited on Talia’s father and brothers to arrive. Dash had expected them to be the ones waiting on everyone else, since there wasn’t anything he could think of that would have held them up after the game, but apparently he’d been wrong. At least Gunnar hadn’t questioned why he was here.

“Cowboy always says that ‘we're weird, loud, and we don’t really match, but we’re family’ and that pretty much sums it up,” Talia said when explaining why he was absolutely welcome to join in on family dinner. Taking a minute to survey the ragtag group, he couldn’t have put it better himself. But as far as he was concerned, “weird, loud, and unmatched” wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe he fit in more than he realized, because in a weird way, this group was family.

Talia glanced at her phone again, letting out a heavy sigh. Her whole body was tense, the anxiety pulsing through her amping up the rest of the group. A war raged within him, the urge to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and tell her it was all okay so strong he wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to fight it. But he couldn’t. After almost being outed the other day at practice, he and Talia had talked about how much longer they were going to keep this between themselves.

“It’s not that I am ashamed, but I still don’t want to make it public just yet. I like keeping things between us right now,” she’d said.

“I prefer not only remaining alive, but also not having my legs broken,” he’d joked in return. “So the longer we don’t tell Gunnar is fine by me. Although we can’t keep it a secret forever. If we win the Cup, I want to be able to kiss my girl after the game.”

Talia blushed. “We won’t keep it that long, promise. And it’s not Gunnar I’m really worried about. He won’t love the idea, but he’ll deal. It’s all your fans coming after me that scares me.”

Gunnar will deal…

Looking at him now, Dash wasn’t entirely sure Talia was right about that, but he wasn’t going to argue. She knew the man much better than he did. For all Dash knew, Talia had some magical daughter powers that subdued the anger that Dash had witnessed from his coach.

“Here they are,” Talia announced, the relief in her voice shining through.

The whole group turned to the front door, watching as a middle-aged man in pressed khakis and a crisp polo walked in, followed by two teenage boys, who were decked out in Atlanta Rising gear. Both the boys looked just like their dad, their brown hair and fair complexion not quite matching Talia’s almost olive skin tone. She’d said that she looked just like her mother, but had failed to mentioned that the boys didn’t seem to pick up any of those physical traits.

“Talia!” the boys shouted, running toward their sister.

“Hi guys!” She gave one a hug, then the other, stepping back to look at them. “I’m glad to see all the stuff I sent fits. I wasn’t sure how much you’d grown.”

“If you had not chosen to run away, that would not have been a problem,” the man Dash assumed to be Robert Whitmore stated matter-of-factly.

“Hi Dad,” Talia greeted, stepping in to hug him. Robert reciprocated, sort of, tapping her lightly on the back with one hand.

A chill seemed to sweep through the lobby, leaving everyone at a loss on how to react. There was obviously a lot of hurt still hovering at the surface.

“Hi, I’m Gunnar Gracin. It’s nice to meet you, Robert,” Gunnar said, stepping forward, hand outstretched.

Robert looked down at it, his face scrunched in a mix of confusion and dismay. “Ah, yes, the man who…” he trailed off, turning to look at his boys. Turning back to Gunnar, he nodded sharply. “The man from Paris.”

“I have no idea what to do right now,” Liam muttered. “I was not expecting it to be this…weird.”

“That makes both of us. I knew Talia was anxious over this, but in my head that did not equate to…this,” Dash answered back, unsure how to name the tension that surrounded them. “How much do the boys know?”

“No idea. Never occurred to me to ask.”

Silence fell over the group, even Gunnar apparently not knowing exactly how to respond to such a comeback. Dash would have thought that Felicity in all her badass businesswoman glory would have something to interject, but alas, no. Hurt was written all over Talia’s body language, making that urge inside him to hold her rage even harder.