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ChapterThree
Rhys
There was no denying I shouldn't have kicked the ball into her stomach. But Colin told me she had been distracted, not playing to the best of her abilities because she couldn't focus. And before we could even get started, she made herself an easy target by drifting.
“I’m not a coach,” I said as I backed away and pulled another ball underneath my feet. “I don't know how to coach someone. I only know how I was taught, and what I was taught. A lot of it came from Colin. He knows what players need.”
“I’m a lost cause.” Ash wasn’t fishing for pity, or acting sad. She looked strong, riled up, and ready to kick my ass. But her words were matter of fact.
“Why is that?”
“Because I don't want to be here. I got a scholarship because I’m good. But my main goal in life is to use that scholarship to get an education, and be able to take care of myself. Soccer is not what drives me, it just pays the bills until I graduate. And graduation is close. Soccer feels less and less important by the day.”
“Well so much for me changing your life.” The sarcasm was meant to be funny. Maybe telling her I would change her life was a tad narcissistic, but the second she started talking to me, it felt like both of us were going to somehow change forever. I had never coached, or helped anyone else in that capacity, surely it was an experience I would always hold close to my chest.
The smile that almost crested her face was the first sign that Ash wasn’t made of bricks and ammo. That underneath her tough attitude was a woman just trying to get through the motions. Something else I could understand completely.
“Look. You may not want my help, and I may not even want to be here. But let's make it work for a few weeks. Colin will get off my back, and yours, for that matter.” I left my own reasons for being there vague. She didn’t need to know how close I was to riding the bench, nor did she need to know the reasons why. As far as Ash was concerned, I was pushed to help her as a favor to a friend.
Her smirk mirrored my own, and the way her eyes rounded, created a glint in them that I hadn’t noticed until that moment. She seemed satisfied, and for a moment, I was glad I’d knocked the wind out of her. It was payback, because she was doing the same to me without even meaning to.
“No more balls to my stomach.” She meant that as a warning, but immediately turned red when she realized the innuendo those words took on.
I gave her a wink and licked my lips, not cutting her any slack. “Then you better stop calling me sexy, as well, or no promises.”
Her face somehow got redder, and I bit my lip to suppress my laugh. The small woman was every bit the fireball I didn’t need in my life, but I embraced the light energy I had since she started yelling at me.
Using my toes, I popped the ball lying next to my feet, in the air, then bounced it on my knee. I volleyed it to her, and expected her to catch it with her hands, but to my surprise, she caught the ball with her foot and balanced it before kicking it to her other foot. Then she used her knee to pop it back in the air, turned quickly, and kicked the ball hard past my head into the goal net behind me.
I wasn't surprised, but I was impressed. Maybe even a little turned on. Not from the kick alone, but from that look in her eyes. As if she was telling me to take that ball and shove it up my ass.
“Let’s do this.” I kicked another ball her way, gently that time. She stopped it before kicking it to the side to try to get around me. She was doing exactly what I wanted her to do in the first place–owning the field.
For the next few hours, we quietly scrimmaged one on one, and it gave me a chance to see her style and her work. There was no way I was going to be able to do Colin’s bidding in a day. It was important that I saw for myself what the problems were. But as far as I could tell, she didn't have any.
She didn't get past me very often, but I was bigger than her.
Older than her.
A professional.
She knew there was no way to beat me in every attempt, but when she did, her eyes widened, and her face flushed that pretty shade of pink. A smile would try crossing over her face before she suppressed it, and kicked another ball my way.
There wasn’t much I could see that Ash needed help with, other than focusing. With me, she was focused just fine, and her game was impressive.
“I lost track of time,” I admitted, stopping her from kicking another ball my way. “I have practice tomorrow morning.”
Her game face fell and she looked around as if she was coming out of a trance. “Oh shit, I have early classes. What time is it?”
“Almost ten o'clock.”
She walked slowly toward the middle of the field, pulling her shirt up and away from her stomach, using it to wipe her brow. Then she pulled it all the way up and off, showing off her body in her tiny practice shorts and sports bra.
Fuck, Ash was hot. I had been attracted to her from the moment she started stomping off the field in anger, but seeing her body covered in sweat, huffing as she tried to catch her breath, was making my dick twitch. She had dark, silky hair, smooth skin, and her lips plumped every time she licked them.
“You must be hard up,” I groaned under my own breath, speaking primarily to my dick. Ash was not the kind of person I needed to find myself attracted to. But she was the first woman I had spent any time with since Mel left, and it was safe to assume I was feeling drawn to her because I was fucking lonely.
If my dick suddenly wanted some attention, there were a million no-strings attached women in Miami that could fill that need. Not a young, college girl, who Colin had entrusted me with to help.
