Chapter 3 #2
“Some of us are excited to go to New York, you know.”
Erin crunched a piece of melon before answering. “I would be if we were going to have any time to see it.”
“There’s plenty of time to see it.” Alex smoothed a copy of their own itinerary on the table between them. “We’ve got an open-topped bus tour and the Empire State Building on Sunday. An ice hockey game and a Broadway show.”
Ignoring the differences between their schedules—namely, the lack of any actual training or game time on Erin’s—Erin shook her head. “All of those are as a group.”
Alex chuckled. “Oh, Erin. You ever think maybe you should’ve gone into a different sport? Athletics, maybe? You’re a fast runner.”
“That would have been a waste of my footballing potential.”
“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to suck it up and remember that we play a team sport.”
Erin grumbled and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t see why that means we have to do everything together.”
“We have a whole”—Alex squinted at the piece of paper—“two afternoons off. I don’t know what your problem is.”
“My problem is I hate forced team bonding. It’s bad enough that we already have to do it once a month.
” Be it group dinners, games nights, quizzes, bowling, or escape rooms, on the last Wednesday of the month, Shanice arranged an activity for them all to do together.
“Now we’re practically spending two full weeks together. ”
“We already spend all day, every day together.” Alex shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
“Speak for yourself. I spend all my time with Gregor.”
Though she supposed it could be worse. Of all the physios, Gregor was the most tolerable. He pushed her without being condescending and didn’t try to sugarcoat how difficult her recovery would be. He’d steered a lot of players through the same injury through the years.
The fact that he wasn’t one for idle small talk helped, too.
“You should be happy to be with some familiar faces!”
Erin levelled Alex with her best unimpressed look.
Like always, it made them smile. “Besides, it’s not really for us. It’s to help the newbies get fully integrated.”
Yes. The newbies. Along with Lia, they’d signed a new midfielder and a young goalkeeper. Erin grasped for their names. She was sure the midfielder was called Kennedy. Or was it Kiara? Kara?
Maybe she did need some enforced team bonding.
“Speaking of”—Alex shifted uneasily in their seat—“have you spoken much to any of them?”
Erin read between the lines. “You mean have I spoken to Lia?”
Lia Ashcroft, who seemed determined to corner Erin every chance she got.
Erin was running out of escape routes—once she’d ducked into a cleaner’s cupboard to avoid her.
Childish? Yes, but Erin still hadn’t processed Lia’s arrival.
She didn’t want to speak to her. What would the woman possibly have to say?
Sorry for stealing your place? Worse—she might rub it in. Gloat.
And Erin didn’t entirely trust herself not to let out the bitterness she felt whenever she saw Lia across a room. Despite Ayla’s assurances that they would both have a place in the team, Erin wasn’t sold.
She didn’t want to risk their paths crossing until she had a better hold on her anger because taking it out on Lia wasn’t fair.
Plus, Erin didn’t want to get in trouble with Ayla or Shanice for not playing nice.
They’d probably organise enforced team bonding just for her and Lia, and Erin would rather gnaw off her own arm than be forced to endure that.
“No.” Erin pushed the last piece of melon around her bowl. “I haven’t talked to her.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“Probably.”
“But you’re not going to.” It wasn’t a question. Alex shook their head. “You know you don’t have to be such an arsehole all the time, right? All she’s done is sign a contract. Like you did when you came here.”
“I wasn’t replacing anyone.”
“She’s not replacing you. You’re still here, aren’t you?”
For now. But if Erin couldn’t recover? Couldn’t get back to her best quickly enough to keep Ayla or the directors or the owners happy? Erin would be shipped out the door. She wasn’t na?ve. Football was a business. She was an investment. And right now, she was one that wasn’t making any money.
Erin changed the subject. “Do we know why she left Wanderers? Why she came here?” She couldn’t make sense of it.
Sure, she loved Albion, and she knew what they were capable of.
But Albion had been knocked off their perch by Wanderers last season.
Wanderers were on the cusp of a run of dominance like Albion had been lucky enough to be on the last few years.
Why would Lia give that up? Why take a step backwards? Lia could have gone to any club in the world, domestically or abroad. Walk into any team. So why had she stayed in Manchester?
“No idea. I don’t think anyone knows.”
“Someone must have asked her.”
“If they have, I haven’t been privy to the answer.”
Annoying. Erin wasn’t one for gossip, but Alex usually kept her up to date with the biggest dramas and scandals. Not that there were many. Ayla and Shanice ran a tight ship.
“I know.” Alex’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Maybe you can ask her when we’re on top of the Empire State Building.”
Erin allowed herself a rare laugh. “Not likely.”
No, she’d continue to do her best to stay away from Lia at all costs—no matter which side of the Atlantic they were on.
* * *
Lia hauled her suitcase out of the lobby of her apartment building, wondering if she had crammed too much inside.
Oh well. Too late to do anything about it now. She stepped outside with a few minutes to spare before the car was due to pick her up.
A few metres away, someone else stood beside a suitcase, dressed in the same Albion hoodie and sweatpants Lia had pulled on that morning.
Huh. She hadn’t realised any of her fellow teammates also lived in the same apartment building.
But at least it would mean she wouldn’t have to make awkward small talk with the taxi driver.
Lia paused when she inched closer, recognising the angled cheek bones and the short blonde hair. Did she live in the same building as Erin Finch? Was she about to get into a car with the one teammate who had gone out of their way to not welcome Lia with open arms?
To not welcome her at all?
Things were about to get awkward. And fast.
As if able to sense Lia’s unease, Erin turned her head. Her eyes widened when they met Lia’s, and her nostrils flared. Erin’s eyes darted from Lia, toward the lobby doors she’d exited, and back again.
“You live here?” Erin’s voice was low, her Scouse accent pronounced despite the number of years she’d spent in Manchester.
Lia wasn’t sure what she expected Erin’s first words to her to be, but it hadn’t been that. Especially after a week of silence. “Um, yeah. You might know that, if you hadn’t been avoiding me.” She tried not to sound defensive, curling her fingers tight around the handle of her suitcase.
“I am not avoiding you.”
The lie wasn’t remotely convincing. “Oh, please. It’s been a week, and you haven’t said so much as a hello to me.”
Erin inspected her manicured nails, painted a vivid shade of red. “You haven’t said hello to me, either.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” As a rule, it took a lot to rile Lia up.
A short fuse didn’t last long on a football pitch—unless you wanted to earn a long list of bookings and sending offs.
But being accused of not making an effort by someone who was actively keeping out of her way?
Lia saw red. “I have tried. You’re the one who has no interest.”
Eyes flashing, Erin dropped her hand back to her side. “Look, I’m sorry, okay, but do you really think I want to be the best of friends with the woman who’s been brought in to take my place in the starting eleven?”
Lia supposed, if their positions were reversed, she might feel some level of resentment.
It couldn’t be easy for Erin—first, to adapt to a potentially career-ending injury, then to watch someone come into the team who had outscored her last season.
Footballing egos were fragile. Lia had seen enough evidence of that over the years.
“I don’t want to be best friends.” Even in just a week, Lia had noticed that Erin didn’t seem to have many.
She kept to herself, for the most part, though she sat with Alex at mealtimes.
“I just don’t want you to be outright hostile.
And it won’t be that long until we’re playing together, right?
You must be what, two months post-op? Nearly a quarter of the way through your recovery? I bet that time will fly by.”
As Erin’s jaw clenched, Lia wished that she’d kept her mouth shut.
“?Fly by?? You think the past two months have been easy?” Erin hissed. “You think it’s fun to not be able to do the one thing you love more than anything else in the world? To watch the rest of the team preparing for the season ahead and not know if you’ll set foot on a pitch before the end of it?”
Okay, Lia had definitely said the wrong thing. “I—”
“Do you think it’s fun watching everyone fawn over you?
I know you’re good. I know you’re great for the team.
I know I’m supposed to be a professional and act like I’m overjoyed that you’re here.
But every time I look at you, Lia, I’m reminded of all the things I can’t do.
So, yes, I have been avoiding you. But I’ve been far from hostile.
Because believe me, if I wanted to be hostile, you’d know about it. ”
Erin breathed heavily, a look of surprise on her face like she couldn’t believe what had come out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry.” Though Lia didn’t know what she was apologising for. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Can we not do this?” Erin waved a hand between the two of them. “Let’s just continue to ignore one another until we’re forced to interact.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’re incapable of playing nice?”
Erin’s gaze trailed from Lia’s head to her feet. “With you? Right now? Yes, I think I am.”
Shaking her head, Lia bit her tongue so she didn’t say something she’d later regret. Maybe it was a good thing Erin had avoided her. She hadn’t expected the warmest of welcomes, but this? Lia couldn’t believe it. Well, they did say you should never meet your heroes.
Lia should have heeded that advice.
A black town car rounded the corner, and Lia breathed a sigh of relief when it pulled to a stop in front of them.
“Sorry I’m late,” the driver said as he hurried to grab their bags. “I’ll be sure to get you to the airport in time.”
Lia glanced at her watch. They still had over three hours before their plane was due to depart—plenty of time. “Do you mind if I sit in the front?” The thought of sitting next to Erin in stilted, weighty silence for forty minutes filled her with dread.
The driver looked surprised. “Of course. Give me a moment to clear the seat—most people prefer to sit in the back.”
As Erin slid into the back seat and slammed the car door closed behind her, Lia sighed. “Yeah, well, I’m not like most people.”