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"Hunt and Tay, together again," he smiled as he took my hand for the first time in two years.
"Who would have thought?"
His kiss was desperate, like he was trying to prove a point. That he never should have left in the first place. That he regretted the time apart.
We had to rebuild, and it would take time to get back to where we once were, but it was like my brother had said: if I didn't try, I would never know.
And it was time to find out if the stories we once told were destined to come true.
ChapterOne
Tripp
My teammates were falling like football season, and I was still firmly planted in my summer era. I was happy for them, really. Even if they were also my only friends in Miami, I could see loneliness on the horizon, but being lonely beat the hell out of being in love.
Twisted motherfuckers.
Then again, to their credit, Rhys Peyton and Cruz Martin weren't the ones on the team who had to worry about their future. That anxiety-inducing adventure was reserved for yours truly. Tripp Maddux. The midfielder for the Miami Inferno who gets paid "entirely too much and should be cut at the end of the season."
I heard the media reports. They were hard to ignore. But what they didn't know was how aware I was. Even more so than they were. Because that was my assignment.
Every team had a fall guy, even if it was never mentioned or voiced out loud, not just in soccer but every sport. The fall guy was the one a team could blame for their season ending in flames. That guy got paid good money, but his contract was laced with so many stipulations that it was impossible to retain.
That was me—the fall guy. But I was the only one aware of it. The day I signed my contract, my agent warned me that it had a mountain of twists and turns that, with a tiny fuck up, could land me back in League One. Based on the amount of money they paid me, I'd say they were hopeful I did fuck up.
They didn't count on me being a loner. I would never have stepped outside my apartment if it hadn't been for Cruz. He was a local in Miami and thought it was his job to make me feel welcome, which he did.
We found the best clubs, the best beaches, and the best women. Cruz had always been up for a night out before his stepsister got to town. But he was officially a ticking time bomb, wanting her so badly that he couldn't even see it while everyone else could see it clear as day.
When we got to Mangos after a rough Wednesday night game, he grabbed a girl and took her to the back of the club, dead set on fucking her. Somehow, I knew he wouldn't go through with it.
Checking my watch, I clocked him being gone for two minutes so far, and when he returned, I bet myself he'd go straight home, where Lily was. If only I had more friends to make that bet with.
"Maddux?" The deep voice calling my name over the loud music made me pause. No one knew me. "Tripp?"
Setting my glass down on the table, I turned around and looked up at the guy standing beside Cruz's vacated chair. "Hunt?"
Politely, I stood up and shook his hand, then reluctantly invited him to sit with me, unsure if that was a good idea.
"Good to see ya." As he sat down, he raised a finger toward the waitress, asking for whatever I was having by doing an awkward point and then shaking his hand. Fuck, Hunter was a tool. I bet he'd put the drink on my tab, too.
I needed a bookie or something with all these winning bets I’m making.
"What've you been up to?" Not that I didn't know the answer to that question. Rhys and Cruz had a little beef with the guy, and I listened when they talked about it.
"I've been coaching the women's soccer team at the university. Assistant coaching." Hell, I knew that. Rhys Peyton's girlfriend played on that team. "It's not why I came back to Miami, but it's a start."
"I heard you took a leave of absence from the team, though?" By how pale he got, it was safe to assume he didn't want me to know that part of his story, but he had to assume that I would know. He wasn't that big of an idiot.
"Word gets around," he grimaced, and I nodded, suddenly feeling awkward about bringing it up. "Honestly, I just needed time to think. When I left League One, it was only because my alma mater told me I would get the head coaching job for the men's team. Leaving League One was hard because I hadn't gotten where I wanted to be yet. But I packed up and moved back home for the chance of a lifetime, only to get here and find out the job they had for me was assisting Colin Mestik with the women's team."
"I love women," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood, then took a sip of my drink.
"Yeah, yeah," he smirked. "But these aren't the kind of women you can touch. They'd either kill you themselves or handcuff you to the bed so the university can have their way with you. Which is good for them, but it's not what I want. Anyway, after we won the Women's Cup, I asked for some time away. Nothing serious."
"That's a rough go." I sincerely meant that. Playing with Hunter in League One, I knew how much he wanted to be a pro. When that didn't happen, and I heard he had returned to Miami, I knew there must have been a good reason. He used to swear he would never return unless it were for soccer. Either to coach it or play it.
"It is what it is," he finally sighed as the server delivered his drink.
