Page 37 of Scoring Wilder


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"Whatever. Let's see how the practice goes first."

Becca groaned. "Fine, but all I'm saying is that if you want him to stop ignoring you, you should make it harder for him."

"That just feels so... calculated. Not to mention I shouldn't be concentrating on him during practice."

"There's not a girl on that field that isn't concentrating on him during practice. You've been kicking ass lately, so you deserve a little fun. A little Liam-filled fun. You deserve to fill your fun bits with Liam."

I laughed and put the car in park, trying to prepare myself for seeing him in a few minutes.

"Operation Brandi Chastain has officially begun," Becca declared.

"Why her?"

"Remember when she scored the goal in that shoot-out for the World Cup title and she ran across the field and ripped her shirt off?"

"So... you want me to rip my shirt off?"

"That'd be awesome, but I think people would assume you were on drugs. Better just take it off like a normal person."

The first hour of practice went as usual. We didn't split up into positions, which was unfortunate for two reasons: 1. Liam could ignore me much easier when we were in a big group, and 2. Becca was in my ear telling me to take my shirt off every five minutes. She really was a bad influence. I should reevaluate my friendships.

"Okay, seriously. It's hot as hell and even if we weren't doing Operation B.C. I'd want to take my shirt off," Becca said.

We were taking a five minute water break and it was the perfect time to get rid of our shirts if we were actually going through with the plan.

"You can't abbreviate the operation to B.C. or I'll just think of Spartacus the whole time."

Becca cracked up and I chanced a glance toward Liam. He was standing off to the side, chatting with Tara and Coach Davis. He hadn't looked in my direction once that morning and I was getting tired of it. One glance from him and I would have forfeited the dumb “operation”, but I was sick of being ignored. Not to mention he looked even sexier than usual with his light grey t-shirt and workout shorts. His legs were toned and I wanted to throw myself at him every time my eyes lingered to where he was standing.

"Ugh, fine. Take your freaking top off," I whispered, tossing down my water bottle and reaching for the bottom of my shirt. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was hotter than usual. No one could blame me for wanting to rid myself of extra layers... right?

I laid my shirt on top of my soccer bag and straightened back up.

Becca giggled wildly and I hissed for her to be quiet. She'd ruin the plan for sure.

"He's watching you and scowling."

"Scowling?" I groaned. What was with him and scowling? It was his default expression whenever he was around me.

"Yeah, full on angry scowl. God, he's so hot. I'm not sure if this plan will work, but at least he's looking at you."

"Cute sports bra, Kinsley," Emily said, coming up to us. I hid my mouth behind my hand, trying to cover up my laugh with a cough.

"Thanks Emily," I finally mustered. Telling Emily about Operation B.C. was completely out of the question. She had a much better moral compass than Becca and I, and I'm sure she wouldn't have agreed with our logic.

Coach Davis blew her whistle, drawing our attention over to where she was standing with Liam and Tara. "Okay, girls! Let's line up on the sidelines and we'll form teams for a short scrimmage."

Liam was still scowling and now Tara was joining him. Oh good, I was pissing everyone off. Yippee.

We hurried to line up and I ended up at the end of the sideline with my hands on my hips, waiting for Coach Davis to call my name for a team.

"Do you really think that's appropriate?" Liam asked behind me, his volume soft enough that the sophomore standing beside me didn't hear.

His tone was veering toward asshole territory and his question pissed me off, so when I turned toward him, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about? I workout in a sports bra all the time."

Liam scoffed. "There are paparazzi standing over there with their lenses trained on you and your lack of clothing.”

I rolled my eyes, not even glancing to where I knew the paparazzi were stationed. They were there every day and I’d mostly forgotten about them. After all, they were only there for Liam.

"No. They're trained on you. They wouldn't be here if you weren't here."

"It doesn't matter. Put your freaking shirt on, Kinsley."

Yes, he was technically my coach, but in that moment he was talking to me as Liam, not Coach Wilder, so I chose to test my limits.

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