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The next match wasn’t until Wednesday which meant whoever stayed behind had a little over two days to get back to L.A. Bryce was the ideal person to stay with him, but Richard would never risk having two top players out of the upcoming game.
“So what’s the plan?”
“I’m still trying to figure it out with Will. Unless-?”
I laughed out loud at his unspoken question. “Yeah, sure. Two minutes alone with Radleigh and I’d probably finish him off!”
Did I say Radleigh? I must be getting soft.
Richard chuckled. “Worth a shot.”
In a moment of mischievousness, I pictured the irritation on his face when I’d told him Richard had asked me to check up on him. How much angrier would he be if he realised I was his babysitter until he got better?
Evil, Leah. Evil.
I didn’t want him to suffer any serious discomfort, but the opportunity to watch him squirm for a couple of days was almost too good to pass up.
“You’re really considering this aren’t you?” Richard laughed.
“Maybe. It seems like a bad idea but, what do you think?”
“I think it would be a good chance for you to work on building some kind of amicable relationship with him. We can cover you if you’re sure. I know he’s sick, but I don’t want to leave you here if you’re not completely comfortable.”
His tone shifted and I hated that I’d let slip about McCoy’s flirting. I didn’t want to be viewed as weak. I was perfectly capable of handling him.
Sort of.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Arrangements for me to stay in Phoenix until Tuesday were made. I didn’t even have to switch rooms, which meant I could continue to enjoy the view over the hotel gardens for a bit longer. No doubt they’d look even better after I’d poured the contents of the mini bar down my throat.
When I broke the news I was staying to Freya, she looked at me as if I’d volunteered to streak across the pitch during the national anthem. She wasn’t the one I was worried about though. I had to tell Miguel, and I had no clue how he’d take the news that I’d need to postpone our first date to stay with McCoy.
“You’re an angel,” he said when I eventually caught up with him. “Not many people would volunteer to stay behind with him.”
“How do you know I’m not just a slacker?” I teased. “This is like a mini holiday for me.”
“A holiday spent nursing an injured soccer player?”
“I don’t plan to spend a second longer with that berk than necessary.”
“Berk?” Miguel laughed. “Is a berk the same as a jerk?”
While I was used to using American dialect a lot of the time, it went right out the window any time I got annoyed, angry or upset. Thankfully, I’d had little need for the words “berk,” “knob,” or “tosser” since I’d been in Westberg.
“Pretty much,” I said. “I like my Britishisms.”
“I like them too. Maybe you can teach me some more on our date.”
“Oh, you’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?” I said, sliding my arms around his waist. “Nothing says first date like learning to insult people using English slang.”
“How about if you teach me while we’re having a moonlight picnic on the beach?”
He couldn’t have known that, minus the insults, he’d described my ideal date. Walking along the sand in the cool evening air was one of my favourite things to do. The idea of sharing it with Miguel was perfection.
“I’d love that.”
Miguel sighed. “Is it okay that I’m going to miss you? I know we only met two days ago, but-” he trailed off, smiling sheepishly.
