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“You’re telling me your best friend’s sister applied for a job on our team and you turned her down because of me?” I wanted him to feel like a total shit for putting this on me.
“I helped her get the job on Team Italy. I think she’s doing fine.” He flipped the screen open and the boxes of schedules reappeared.
“Well she’s not a little girl anymore, Eric. And I don’t think it’s your place to play big brother.”
I rose, heading toward the door.
“Sta
y away from her,” he warned.
“You’re my coach and I’ll listen at practice. I’ll listen during the matches, but other than that I don’t give a fuck what you say.”
I slammed the door behind me.
Chapter Eight
Sierra
I stared at the television. There was a huge red blob sitting over top of Copacabana beach. From what I could pick out of the forecast, the storm wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. On the other side of the red were swirls of green. In any language I knew that meant more rain.
I sank onto the pillows on my bed and was hit with an overwhelming scent of Pierce. Holy shit, he smelled amazing. I thought about rolling my face into the pillow, but that would basically put me in the same category as a thirteen-year-old girl.
I rolled on my side and watched the rain slide down the pane. I did the right thing kicking him out. There was no way I could treat him and remain neutral. Every nerve in my body was screaming out to pounce on him. That wasn’t professional or ethical.
I had to throw him out.
I jumped when I heard my phone beep. I picked it up from the table and read the text from Sergio.
Bella, join us for dinner.
I sighed. I wasn’t up for the dynamic duo. But maybe they would be a distraction from my room. I could only watch the weather for so long.
I typed back a quick message.
Where are you going?
Meet us downstairs.
They probably didn’t have an idea, but I’d tag along.
See you in five minutes.
I grabbed my purse and the set of keys I had received at check-in and locked the door as I headed for the lobby.
Sergio and Paulo were waiting for me near the front desk.
“Hey.” I waved.
“Ciao, bella.”
I leaned in for a customary kiss on each cheek from the guys.
“Any word on the match?” I asked.
“No,” they answered. “Too big of a storm.”
I had figured that would be the answer. As long as there was lightning they couldn’t put fans in aluminum seats.
