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“Let me give you a lift.”
And I want to say yes. Desperately so.
Because he came here when I needed him, he did my hair and calmed me down, restored my confidence in myself and encouraged me more than any coach ever has, all in the span of twenty minutes.
Oh, and fuck it.
“Alright.”
Victory explodes in his gaze, the triumph spreading like molten lava across his face.
“You’re lucky you have a match to captain, otherwise I’d fuck you on this bedroom floor.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
He grins at me, his pointy canines on display like the most dangerous of predators. “Not at all. This is the beginning of the end of your futile resistance and I can’t wait to finally see you beg.” He says, his smile downright diabolical. “But later. First, you’ve got a game to win.”
???
19
Rhys
They’re headed to sudden-death overtime.
Even though RCA is dominating on possession, they haven’t been able to capitalize on it with a game winning goal.
Thayer’s flying out there though.
She’s been all over the pitch, winning tackles, stealing passes, and she assisted on RCA’s lone goal.
I’m standing on the sidelines next to Faulkner, watching her move across the field with eagle-eyed attention as the game starts again.
“Are you behind this transformation?”
I turn towards Faulkner with a blank expression on my face. “What?”
She tips her chin towards Thayer. “The way she’s playing. She’s taken it up a notch.”
I look back towards the field and watch her dribble and fake out a defender. “That’s all her. She put in the work.”
She gives me a rare smile. “You guys make a good team.”
Yeah, I’m aware.
Thayer jogs along the sideline, eyes on the ball across the pitch as she waits to see how the play evolves. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, “Come on, Thayer. Hustle!”
She hears me over the noise of the crowd and turns in my direction, her eyes searching for me. When she finally sees me, she comes to a stop and a slow smile spreads across her face before she gives me a small wave.
Well, fuck. I didn’t mean to distract her.
“Go.” I mouth at her, pointing towards the opposing goal. That jolts her out of her reverie and has her dashing in that direction. As she runs by me, I tell her, “Come on, show them what you’re made of.”
And she fucking does.
She gets a beautiful pass from her midfielder and speeds off towards the goal. She evades a defender and gets within twenty feet of the goal before passing the ball to the winger.
I see what’s going to happen before it does and it’s so well played and orchestrated that I’m fucking impressed. In a series of touch passes that showcase the team's chemistry, the winger sends the ball back to the attacking midfielder who then passes it back down to Thayer.
