Chapter Fifty-Seven
As I stand out on the sidelines of the pitch, watching the ladies take their places on the field, my heart swells with an unfamiliar pride.
A lot has changed for me since I first accepted the position as their interim coach, and as strange as it seems, knowing my teammates are here to support these women is really fucking cool too.
They don’t have to be here, and if they didn’t want to be, I know they wouldn’t, but it’s the final game of the season. Elise’s final game, and while my friends don’t know what she means to me, they at least know this team means way more than I’d ever anticipated it would.
So today, despite having a game of our own in just a few hours, my closest friends are here to cheer us all on.
Elise jogs toward me, the game not yet started. “Hey,” she says, letting out a breathless laugh as she stops in front of me. “You see all the recruiters in the stands?” she asks, her eyes flitting over the crowd of people gathered in the bleachers.
“How could I not? You’ve been sending me pictures of each of them all week so I’d know who’s who,” I say, smirking.
“I’m glad you’ve been paying attention. Now, get ready to be amazed because that, ” she says, tilting her chin to a thin brunette woman who looks to be in her fifties, seated a few rows up, centre field, “is Lorelle Laurent, the UK women’s football recruiter for the Olympic team.
And I’m about to show her exactly why they need me.
” Her face is fucking glowing with excitement and joy like I’ve never seen it before.
“I have absolutely no doubt,” I say, keeping our interaction brief because the longer she stands here, the more likely it is I’ll kiss her. “Now, Captain, get your ass back on the field.”
“Yes, sir,” she says with a chuckle, turning and sprinting into position.
My palms burn as I continue clapping them together, screaming across the field. “Yes! Yes, Elise!” My throat is raw from the last hour of obnoxious shouting I’ve been doing.
We’re more than halfway through the game, and these ladies aren’t tiring out. Well, everyone besides Adhira.
She’s been sluggish tonight, but judging by her ashen skin and sunken eyes, I’d say she’s probably coming down with something. I’d pull her entirely, but it’s her senior year, her last game, and frankly, we’re still winning, so it hasn’t made too much of an impact.
For someone who loves to be in control, rightfully so, Elise is a great captain. She trusts her own instincts and her teammates even more so.
Watching her play, silently nudging her teammates where she wants them to be while compensating when someone looks like they’re struggling—it’s fucking incredible.
She thinks so damn fast on her feet, and when she sees Adhira having an even harder time than she has been the rest of the game, she gives the Mayhem the runaround, taunting their defensive midfielder, giving Adhira a moment to catch her breath.
And the moment I see that little wink she shoots Adhira, my fucking gut is squeezing tight, and my blood hums with adrenaline.
Elise feigns directions, shooting out the opposite side, just barely making it past the Mayhem’s defence as she hauls her tight little ass down the pitch.
I’m not sure that she even realises she does it, but one thing that sets Elise apart from any other player I’ve ever known is her ability to just act.
There’s no contemplation when she’s playing.
She moves on instinct alone, her body carrying her to where she needs to be.
On the rare occasion that she misses a shot, she just moves the hell on with no dwelling involved.
She doesn’t think before she makes a play; she just does it, and it’s goddamn beautiful.
My heart clenches in my chest watching as she makes her way to the goalkeeper, and just as I expect, she makes her move without anyone, including me, knowing what she’s going to do or what part of the net that ball will be sailing into.
And fuck me, it makes all the blood rush to both of my heads the moment she sends it soaring through the air, the Mayhem’s defence grappling for her just as it slips right past their goalie’s fingers.