Chapter 8 #2
“For what?” Bitterness crept into Lia’s voice. “For accusing me of fucking my coach, or because my fiancée did?” Without giving Erin a chance to answer, Lia pounded her fist on the wall separating their prison from the other room.
It made Alex, Adrianna and Erin jump.
“Can you hurry? I need to get out of this fucking room.”
“Sorry, Lia!” Shanice called back. “We’re working on it.”
Work faster.
“I think I know what we need to do next.” Erin’s gaze was fixed on Lia’s face. “I’m hoping there’s—”
“Can we not?” Lia didn’t want to listen to what Erin had to say. She didn’t want Erin to feel pity for her, and she didn’t want Erin to try and make her feel better. “We don’t need to make small talk. I know you’ll get us out of here—I don’t need to know how.”
Erin flinched and snapped her jaw shut.
Lia tried not to feel bad about it.
* * *
Erin couldn’t even enjoy the victory of escaping with fifteen minutes to spare—quicker than the other four groups, despite having a more difficult room—thanks to Lia’s sullenness.
Why did she have to ruin everything?
Though Erin supposed it was her own fault.
She shouldn’t have accused Lia like she did—but her mouth had opened without much thought.
And then raw pain had flashed across Lia’s face; Erin had done damage.
It sat heavy in her chest, and Erin didn’t know why.
It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d upset a teammate.
Everyone else noticed Lia’s mood. As they milled around the reception area waiting for the other teams to finish, Shanice shot Erin a look that was clearly accusatory.
Erin bit her tongue. It was Shanice’s fault for forcing them together into that room. It should be Adrianna she was admonishing, for gossiping about her fellow teammates. At least Alex had been quick to shoot Adrianna down.
“Anyone want to grab a drink?” Shanice asked once the final team—sheepishly, after failing to escape within the sixty minutes—finished.
With the mandatory part of the proceedings over, Erin shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“I’m going to bow out as well,” Lia said.
A few of the others tried to persuade her to stay, but Lia was unmoved.
“I’ll walk you home.” Cerys slid her arm into the crook of Lia’s elbow.
“No, you should stay. Have fun. I’ll be fine.”
Cerys didn’t look convinced.
A whispered argument that Erin couldn’t hear ensued, but the end result was Cerys disappearing into a bustling central Manchester with the rest of the team while Lia and Erin turned toward the nearest tram stop.
They walked in silence, and Erin should have been content with that, but it wasn’t for good reasons. She could practically hear Lia overthinking as they came to a stop on the same platform. Ten minutes before the next tram. Wonderful. “I really am sorry.”
Nothing.
“It must be difficult.” Erin should probably keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t stop talking.
Lia’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “You don’t think it’s further proof that teammate relationships are unprofessional?”
Erin shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
“Well, I’m taking your stance from here on out. It’s not a mistake I’ll be making again.”
“Does the rest of the team know that? Because you’re the talk of the town, you know.” More than one of their teammates had gushed about how pretty Lia was, how kind Lia was, how funny Lia was. Erin was sick of hearing about it.
Lia’s cheeks flamed red. “I am not.”
“Oh, you are. You’re shiny and new—I’ve heard more than one person say they’d be interested in you once you’re over your ex. Adrianna, in particular, has made it obvious that she’d be first in line.”
“I don’t know what I find harder to believe—that that’s true, or that you’d know if it was.”
Erin tucked her hands into the deep pockets of her woollen jacket. “Just because I don’t talk much doesn’t mean I don’t listen. People say a lot of things around me. Presumably because they don’t think I’m paying attention.”
“So you know everything? Is that it?”
“Not everything. I’m not that conceited. If I were, I’d be saying it was me they were all after.”
Lia laughed—it was the first time her face had cracked from the frown etched onto her face all evening.
Erin didn’t know who was more surprised—her or Lia.
“Thanks. I needed that. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
Erin had seen enough headlines to know that. Their teammates weren’t the only ones speculating on the identity of the mystery player and the suspicious timing of Lia’s move away from Wanderers.
“I can imagine.”
The lost, kicked-puppy look returned to Lia’s face. Erin was overcome with the sudden and inexplicable need to make it go away again. “I happen to know a good way to blow off steam that might make you forget about it, if you’re interested.”
Eyebrows raised, Lia scrutinised her face in the darkness. “Are you propositioning me?”
“What?” Erin frowned, then understanding dawned. Her cheeks warmed. “God, no! I told you I don’t date teammates.”
“Dating and fucking aren’t the same thing.”
“I don’t fuck my teammates, either.” The potential drama that could elicit made her shudder. “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.” What was she doing, trying to extend an olive branch? Trying to assuage her guilt, despite doing nothing wrong? Annoyed, Erin turned away.
“No, wait.” Lia reached for her wrist.
Her fingers slid beneath the cuff of Erin’s coat, warm on her bare skin despite the chilly October air. Erin was quick to shake her off.
“I’m sorry. What did you mean? Blowing off steam does sound like a good idea.”
Erin regarded Lia for one long moment. “It’ll be easier if I show you.” She took a step back toward the city centre. In the distance, the lights of their approaching tram glittered. “You coming?”
* * *
Lia walked a half-step behind Erin, wondering if following her through Manchester with no idea of their final destination was wise. She was intrigued by what Erin counted as “blowing off steam”, though. Clearly not the same thing that sprang to Lia’s mind.
The adorable look of wide-eyed confusion on Erin’s face had made Lia smile, then shake her head.
Adorable was not a word she should be associating with Erin Finch.
Irritating and egotistical? Sure. Even hot—despite having been mad at her in the escape room, Lia couldn’t deny that seeing Erin charge around the place like she owned it, brimming with cocky confidence, had sent a shiver through her. She had eyes. Erin was gorgeous.
But not adorable.
And certainly not available.
They walked for a long time in silence until Erin paused outside a row of warehouses with graffiti scrawled across the walls and doors.
“This way.” Erin pulled open a door and ushered Lia inside.
Had this been a good idea? No one knew where she was and who she was with. She didn’t think Erin would try and lure her into danger, but the woman was unpredictable.
Inside, an unassuming reception awaited them. Behind the desk, a woman smiled as they stepped inside. “Erin! You don’t have a session booked, do you?”
A session? A session for what?
“I don’t. But I’m hoping you can squeeze us in.”
The woman’s eyes travelled to Lia, then widened. “Lia Ashcroft! I’m a huge fan—so glad you signed for Albion. How are you settling in?”
Swallowing her confusion, Lia smiled. “Great so far.”
“Awesome.” The receptionist’s attention flicked to her laptop screen. “I think we can fit you in if you can spare ten minutes for me to get a room ready?”
“No problem at all.” Erin dropped into one of the chairs.
After the receptionist had disappeared through a nondescript door at the back of the room, Lia sat next to Erin. “Okay, what the hell is this place? Where have you brought me?”
Erin turned to face her, looking unamused. “I told you—this is where I come to blow off steam.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Destroying stuff. This is a rage room.”
Lia had heard of them—places filled with breakable things that you could destroy to your heart’s content. “I’ve never been to one of these before, either. But it sounds fun.”
“It is.”
When Erin didn’t seem inclined to say much more, Lia tapped her foot as she waited impatiently for the receptionist to return.
When she did, she took them through to the back.
They were given some protective equipment to wear—overalls that reminded Lia of a biohazard suit, protective goggles, and a face shield.
Next came choosing their weapons. Erin selected a mallet, Lia a baseball bat.
“I can give you fifteen minutes.” The receptionist ushered them into a room. It was filled with cardboard boxes, glasses, plates and other crockery, as well as old electricals and furniture. “Enjoy.”
When the door was shut behind her, Lia turned to Erin. “So do we just go for it?” She waved her hand toward the items spread out around them.
Instead of answering, Erin brought her mallet crashing down. Chips of broken plate sprayed out around her. Erin hefted the mallet over her shoulder with a flourish and shook her hair out of her eyes.
Why was that so sexy?
“Yes. You just go for it.”
So Lia did exactly that, and, damn, was it satisfying.
She thought of her father and Hannah and Carol and all of the things she’d had to leave behind.
She thought of the media circus and the endless articles, her own teammates wondering if she had a role in the scandal.
Again and again, she brought the baseball bat down until she was surrounded by debris.
She breathed heavily, sweat sticking her hair to her forehead.
Erin hung back by the door; she’d barely moved, her mallet balanced against her good leg.
“Sorry.” Lia lifted her face shield. “Kinda took over there.”
Erin shrugged. “It’s okay. You look like you needed it more.”
“You come here a lot?”
“Whenever I need to. After a tough game or a bad training session, or if things get too much here.” Erin pressed her index finger to her temple. “Works better than therapy for me. It was the first place I came after my injury, once I’d cleared it with my surgeon.”
“Thank you. For sharing it with me.” It was a big deal.
Their relationship was contentious at best—outright hostile at worst. Moreover, Erin was a private person, and she’d opened her insides for Lia to see.
Lia wasn’t entirely sure why, but she was grateful.
More grateful than she could possibly say.
“Don’t worry about it,” Erin said. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”