Chapter 13
"Don’t you understand we need to kiss to break the curse?"
Archie
The smell of fresh-cut grass hits me. The sun is way too bright for this early in the morning, and Finn has already launched a ball at my head before I’ve even stepped on the pitch.
Yep. We’re back.
“Morning to you too,” I mutter, catching the rebound and launching it straight back at him.
“Just testing your reflexes, lad!” He grins, already jogging backward with that infuriating Irish energy I’ve never understood and probably never will. “Can’t have our number one keeper getting all rusty and soft.”
“I’m not rusty,” I grumble. “Just wasn’t expecting an aerial assault before nine a.m.”
Millie is perched on the sidelines, filming our warm-ups for social media and occasionally shouting things like “give me something viral!” which earns her a chorus of groans from the lads.
“Careful,” Callum says, adjusting his socks. “She’s fired up today.” Despite his words, I see the way he looks at her. And as scary as it is, Grumpy Cal has clearly found his match.
“Aw. Don’t be like that, Cam,” Finn says, slapping his back. “Maybe this is how you’ll finally meet your future wife.”
Cameron throws him a dark glance. “Hard pass. I’m so done with the socialites and fame-hungry women. I have to get out there and meet some normal women, if that’s even possible,” he says, kicking a football.
“Phew,” I breathe out. “And here I spent my summer worrying you’d find your woman in the US and would abandon us all to be with her.”
“Worrying or praying?” Finn asks, arching an eyebrow.
We all laugh, and Cameron just shakes his head. “Sadly, I’m not that lucky.”
“That explains the sour face,” I tell him.
“Messieurs!” Francois breaks through our conversation as he strolls onto the pitch, clutching a clipboard like it’s sacred.
He stops in front of us dramatically, letting the silence build before continuing in his thick accent, “Today, we do not just train. We sculpt. We paint. We build la beauté du football with our feet and our sweat. Only six days till showtime.”
We all stare back at him.
“I missed this guy,” Wade mutters behind me. “Mad as ever.”
“Hey! Quiet, Capitaine,” Francois scolds, somehow having heard that quip from across the field. “If I see one pass that lacks poetry, I will send you to run laps until you weep.”
Wade bows dramatically. “Wouldn’t dream of disrespecting the craft, boss.”
With that, warm-ups kick off, and soon we’re moving on to drills—passing, headers, crosses. I’m defending the net, gloves on, my world narrowed to footwork and timing. The first proper save of the day sends a painful jolt through my palms, and it’s glorious.
Finn tries to nutmeg me when I step out of the box during a shooting drill. That goes about as well as you’d expect.
“Denied!” I shout, tossing the ball up and catching it again. “Now who’s the rusty one?”
“I was going easy on you.”
“Oh, please,” Cameron cuts in. “You trip over your own laces going ‘easy.’”
I lean against the post, grinning to myself as their bickering starts up.
Yeah. We’re back. Loud and chaotic—and already panting with exhaustion—but this is the part of the game I love. The rhythm, the noise, the teamwork. After everything that happened these past weeks that I’m still trying to wrap my mind around, this is my solid ground.
Our first training of the season is over, and it flew by fast. I’m already looking forward to tomorrow, although I won’t complain about turning in early tonight.
My lack of training during the break is tangible, screaming from every one of my muscles.
I was the last one to leave the showers, standing under the hot stream of water like it owed me something.
I was two aches away from marching straight to the physio room and asking for a massage, but the teasing from my teammates would have ended me.
Maybe tomorrow. I can pretend to pull something at training so I don’t look like too much of a wuss, maybe?
I’m still seriously considering the idea when I pull into the underground garage, cut the engine, and force myself out of the car.
Every step toward the lift feels like a personal betrayal from my wobbly legs, but I manage to shuffle along.
The lift door is already starting to slide shut, so I muster the last ounce of energy in my body and jog toward it.
My hand smacks the edge of the door just in time, and it bounces open.
“Oh, hey,” Katherine says, clearly startled. Her eyes widen slightly, and her hand instinctively brushes her hair back.
I grin, my shoulders immediately relaxing. “Of course it would be you.”
She looks beautiful tonight. Her hair is slightly windblown, and a navy-blue dress hugs her curves. Her cheeks are flushed, like she’s been walking fast, or maybe she just always glows like that.
“How are you?” I lean against the wall of the lift, trying to hide the limp I probably still have.
“I’m okay,” she says, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. “I was on my way out but forgot something upstairs. How about you?”
“Coming home,” I say, running a hand through my damp hair. “Today was our first training back. It was intense.”
“I bet,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “Do—”
A sharp jolt cuts her off. The elevator shudders once, then lurches to a stop.
The lights flicker but stay on.
We both freeze.
“Did we just—”
“Stop?” she finishes, glancing at the ceiling panel as if it’s going to give us an answer. “Yes. Yes, we did.”
A silence permeates the cabin as we both process what’s happening. Finally pulling myself together, I press the emergency button. It lets out a low, unsatisfying buzz.
A few seconds later, a voice crackles through the speaker overhead. “We’re aware of the issue, and we’re working on it now. We’ll have it back up as soon as possible.”
“Any idea how long?” I ask, lifting my chin toward the panel as if the disembodied voice can see me.
“Can’t say yet, sir. But it shouldn’t be too long.”
The line goes dead with a soft click, and I glance at Katherine, an amused grin escaping. “Try telling me you don’t believe in fate now.”
She just rolls her eyes.
“Um, excuse me,” I say, pacing a slow, dramatic circle in the cramped space, feeling the minimal effort in my legs.
“We are currently stuck in an elevator together. What’s next?
Don’t you understand we need to kiss to break the curse?
The Universe needs to see we’ve at least acknowledged its demand, or we’ll never get out of this alive. ”
She’s full-on laughing now, bracing herself on the handrail for support. The sound is contagious, light and easy, and it fills the confined space like a flood of sunshine.
“It’s true,” I insist, stepping closer and dropping my voice in mock-seriousness. “I’m scared for my life now. Next thing I know, I’ll be on your operating table. I already almost died in Uganda.”
Laughing harder, she slides down to the floor, tugging her dress under her legs. “Gosh, stop. My abs are actually hurting.”
I sink down beside her, groaning as I stretch my legs in front of me. “I’m serious, by the way,” I say, tipping my head back against the wall. “Please don’t mess me up in surgery. I’m far too young and handsome to die.”
She glances at me, her eyes teasing. “I’ll do my best.”
A beat passes, neither of us speaking. After checking her watch, she sighs. “Well, I’m not really mad about being stuck in here.”
“Because you’re with me?” I cut in, flashing a smirk. “Yeah, I get that.”
She gives me a pointed look, but she can’t hide her smile. “No, because I was on my way to dinner at my mum’s. At least now I have a good excuse to get out of it.”
I wince. “Yikes. That bad, huh?”
She blows out a breath, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “I just don’t have the energy to go over there tonight and meet her new boyfriend.”
“Ohhh. You don’t want a new daddy. I get that,” I say, bumping my shoulder gently against hers.
She shoots me a mock glare, but there’s amusement behind it. “Haha. I would be more interested if ‘meeting the new boyfriend’ wasn’t a monthly occurrence, you know?”
“Ah, I see.” I cringe. “Sorry. Well, I tell you what,” I say, massaging my thigh, “If we ever get out of here, I’ll come with you. Mums love me.”
“I bet they do,” she replies, chuckling under her breath. “So, tell me about your first day back,” she says, nudging me. “Anything interesting happen?”
I launch into the day’s events, telling her about our grueling training, exaggerating Finn’s antics, and recounting Francois’s bizarre speech.
I’m mid-sentence—describing the moment when Finn tried to juggle three balls and accidentally launched one into the assistant coach’s groin—when the elevator pings and jerks softly.
“Oh,” she says, glancing up. “Here we go.”
We both get up, brushing off our clothes, and I must say, I wouldn’t have been too cross if we’d gotten stuck a little longer. If nothing else, just to rest my aching body.
The speaker crackles to life. “We’ve got everything sorted out. Have a nice evening.”
“Well, that was fast,” Katherine says, shaking her head as the lift rises. The doors slide open on our floor, and we step into the quiet hallway.
“Given the outrageous rent we pay, they’d better not keep us captive inside the lift for too long,” I joke.
“True enough. Well,” she says, pausing in front of her door, “looks like I don’t have an excuse not to go to my mum’s now. Have a good night.”
“Hold on,” I say. She turns around. “Aren’t I coming with you?”
She blinks. “Really? You were serious?”
I nod firmly. “I’m a man of my word. Besides, if I don’t come of my own free will, I’ll probably end up there somehow. No way to avoid it.”
She studies me for a moment, then laughs. “Fine. You can come. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I like living dangerously.”
Casting me one last glance, she disappears into her flat, and I lean back against the hallway wall. Despite my aching body, I’m suddenly as energised as those minutes leading up to a football match.