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It would be Ash.
And despite how much I didn’t want to be there in the beginning, Ash quickly grew on me. She made me feel like I had a purpose again and I enjoyed being around her. It wasn’t because she was gorgeous, it was because she didn’t treat me like some fangirl. She didn’t try impressing me or being someone she wasn’t just because of who I was.
It was refreshing.
And I wanted more.
ChapterEight
Ash
It was glaringly obvious that asking Rhys about what Coach had said was a bad idea. He hung up on me and I tossed and turned all night worried I had made a fool of myself by being too curious.
Or worse, hurt him.
My afternoon class the next day seemed to drag on, and I fought every minute to stay awake. I was thankful I had time for a nap before meeting with Rhys again, but the knot in my stomach still kept me from fully resting.
He was the first one to the field for practice that night, and I watched him kicking a few balls around as I walked into the gate. Bouncing the ball skillfully between his head, knees, and ankles was making me forget that he was upset, and made a warmth pool in my stomach.
Dammit he was hot.
I remembered the first time I ever saw him on TV. Grandpa was watching the sports network and they had his stats up on a graphic along with a picture of his face. Soccer was already a part of my life, but at the time, I was only fourteen years old and couldn’t completely comprehend what I had been seeing.
Later, as his career blossomed in front of the world, I thought about those stats and was awestruck. It was like watching Tom Brady become the G.O.A.T. in football. Rhys was soccer’s Tom Brady, and the way his career had evolved was nothing less than impressive to anyone who played and followed the sport.
Now he was on my field, there to see me, and I had to take a moment to remind myself that I refused to fangirl. It was easier to remember that the night I met him, when I was angry, that he kept kicking balls at me. It made me feel like a joke to him, until I realized he was right.
I had been distracted, uncaring. I had just wanted to go home and get lost in my school work, maybe read, and be alone. In just one short week, that changed, and I pinched myself to stay grounded before walking up behind him.
“Hey,” I breathed quietly, not wanting to startle him.
The ball was in the air when he turned around to see me standing ten feet away, but he still caught it without looking. With his hands, but no less impressive.
“You’re early,” I joked, holding my phone up to show him the time. “I was going to get here and get the balls out.”
“Beat ya to it,” he winked, then kicked a ball slowly toward me. I stopped it and dribbled it to the side of the field where I sat my bag down and started stretching. Rhys was watching me intently, not moving or kicking around another ball the way he normally did.
“Sorry about last night,” I mumbled, wanting to get that off my chest and out of the way. “Curiosity killed the cat. And I’m the cat.”
His smile was sweet and easy. “No, I'm sorry.”
I wasn’t expecting an apology from him. I was the one that snooped and upset him, he had no reason to be sorry. “For what?”
“Hanging up on you, for one.”
“I shouldn't have asked, I just—”
“It's fine,” he laughed and got closer to me. “I wasn’t upset with you, I was upset with Colin. The man takes his mentorship too far sometimes.”
“Coach is your mentor?”
“Sorta. We played together a long time ago. He was close to retiring and I was just starting out. He was someone to look up to. I wanted to emulate him in a way.”
“Why do I get the feeling that it didn't turn out well?”
His arms spread wide and his smile grew impossibly big, making his dimples peek out from under the scruff on his face. “I turned out okay.”
For some reason, I wanted to close the few steps between us and walk into his open arms. I wanted to pretend that he had opened them just for me, to make me feel better about our little mishap. Thankfully, he dropped them back to his sides before I did something stupid.
