Chapter 21 #2
But, much to Lia’s clear dismay, Iris remembered. “You said that she was too cocky, that she dropped her left shoulder when she was going to shoot left and vice versa—making it easy for the goalkeeper to guess which way to dive—and that she was too slow to react.”
Erin winced. The no-nonsense words certainly sounded like her, even if she had been delivering them to children.
“You also said,” Iris continued, “that if she worked on all of those things, she had the potential to make it.”
At that, Lia finally lifted her head, meeting Erin’s gaze. Embarrassment shone on her face, from her still-red cheeks to her lowered eyelashes to the way she chewed at her bottom lip.
“Well,” Erin said softly, “I wasn’t wrong.”
“Like you’re ever wrong.” Lia looked like she regretted asking Erin to join her, hiding her eyes behind the curtain of her hair.
That wouldn’t do.
She reached over to tuck Lia’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers brush across the arch of her cheek bone as she did—but careful not to linger. Not that it mattered, given the way Iris zeroed in on the touch.
“Oh, my. Are you two together?”
Swallowing hard, Erin dropped her hand to her side—only for it to be snatched up by Lia, who slotted their fingers together like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Maybe it was.
“Yes, Grandma. We are. That’s why I asked Erin to come—to introduce you to her. Is that okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay, sweetheart? Does she make you happy?”
Lia glanced toward Erin, a soft smile on her mouth. “Yes.”
“That’s all that matters. Come here, both of you. Give me a hug. And then let’s go for a walk, shall we? I’ve been cooped in here too long.”
* * *
Boos and jeers rang across the stadium as Albion walked onto the pitch, and Erin revelled in it. Sure, cheers and screams and shouts of her name were nice, but she thrived on hostility, too. Used it to push herself harder, further, basking in the antagonism.
And there was no greater antagonist than Wanderers.
Their closest rivals, already brushed aside in the League Cup. Already knocked out of the Champions League, too—unable to make it out of their group. At least Albion had gone two rounds further.
They would probably be Albion’s opponents in the FA Cup final, if they both won their respective semi-finals. A rematch of last year’s final, the day that had changed the course of Erin’s life.
But first, the league.
Following their draw against Liverpool and their loss to Wolfsburg, Albion had rediscovered their form and won their last four games in a row—helped massively by Erin and Lia’s pitch-perfect strike partnership.
Between them, they’d scored ten goals. Barring a miracle, the Golden Boot was all wrapped up, and the trophy would be heading home with Lia at the end of the season.
And the league trophy could be wrapped up by the end of the day, too. With two games left to play, Albion had maintained their four-point lead over Wanderers. If Albion beat them today, they couldn’t be caught, and they’d lift the trophy on the final day of the season at their home ground.
If Wanderers won, the title would go to the wire for the second year in a row.
Hence the jeers from a nervy crowd, culminating in a pressure cooker of an environment that Erin knew she’d thrive in. With Erin slowly getting back to her best, Ayla had started her in the last three matches, and she planned to repay Ayla’s faith.
As they lined up for the team photo, Erin glanced to her left. Lia had been jittery since they’d woken together that morning, and the deafening noise of the crowd booing her name when it was announced couldn’t be helping.
“Hey.” Erin nudged Lia with her hip, wishing she could wrap her in a hug and tell her it was going to be okay but unwilling to risk it in such a highly public environment. “You’ve got this.”
“We’ve got this.” Lia corrected her with a soft smile, meant for Erin’s eyes only. “We’re going to win today. I can feel it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She was putting on a brave face—her eyes darted around the crowd, her fingers knotted together and her boot scuffing the grass.
“Well, if we do, you should clear your evening.” Lowering her voice, Erin leaned as close as she dared to murmur into Lia’s ear. “Because you know how much I like winning, and I’ll want to celebrate accordingly.”
“I look forward to it.”
Buzzing with anticipation, Erin joined her and the rest of the team in shaking hands with all of the Wanderers players before she jogged over to join the team huddle by the halfway line.
Lia slipped in beside her, fingers warm at the small of Erin’s back as they all leaned in to listen to Shanice’s speech.
“We give them hell today, right team? We’re winning this.
They’re not in good form, and we are fucking fantastic.
They’re going to try and rile us up”—Shanice glanced at Lia—“you most of all, but don’t let them.
Try and get in their heads instead. We’ve beaten them twice already this season.
What do you say we make it a third and snatch another trophy off them? Let’s go!”
With a cheer, the team took their usual positions on the pitch.
Wanderers had the ball first, so Erin took her stance at the halfway line. The centre circle separated her and Lia, and as the referee raised the whistle to her lips, a look of determination crossed Lia’s face.
Erin had seen her like that a few times before, and, oh, she was deadly and devastating once she got going.
And if Lia was the one who won this for them, Erin would worship her between her thighs the whole night long.
* * *
Not for the first time that afternoon, Lia was drenched in champagne.
Her shirt was sticky with it, her damp hair curling around her neck and her trainers squeaking on the slick changing room floor. She was sick of the smell of it, the taste of it heavy at the back of her throat.
But when you scored a hat trick against your former side to win the Women’s Super League trophy, being doused in alcohol was your reward.
She’d become part of an exclusive list, and not just because of her goals. She’d won back-to-back league titles with two different teams. And she’d all but guaranteed herself another Golden Boot.
“Drink up!” Adrianna pressed the champagne bottle toward Lia’s mouth.
“I’m all good, thank you.”
Adrianna wandered off to see who else she could offer a drink to, and Lia breathed a sigh of relief.
Exhaustion was her primary emotion. It would take some time for her to process the last ninety minutes. The game had passed in a blur of frantic end-to-end action before a brilliant pass from Erin had split the defence and gifted Lia her first goal.
The urge to run over and shower her in kisses to show her gratitude had been astounding, but Lia had reined herself in. Later, she kept promising herself. Later, she’d have Erin all to herself, and she could show her how much she’d appreciated her brilliance today.
Because, although Lia had gotten the glory by having her name on the scoresheet, Erin had played magnificently.
She had adapted to her deeper role within weeks, turning into a creator of goals more than a goal scorer, and if she was that good already, Lia couldn’t wait to see what their future together would be like.
Both on and off the pitch.
Her gaze was drawn to where Erin stood with her family in one corner of the room. Her father and stepmother had surprised her by flying in from Spain for a few weeks, hoping to see Albion wrap up the title.
Lia had kept her distance since the final whistle, when they’d enveloped Erin, along with Jessica and Maisie. She wasn’t sure how much Erin had told her family, and she didn’t want to intrude.
But it left her adrift, bereft, as all around her, her teammates were embraced by their friends and family members. The close proximity of Albion and Wanderers meant that a lot of them had come out to watch.
Unfortunately, her grandmother hadn’t been well enough to join them. And watching Erin’s family, knowing she would never have that closeness with her own, made an ache settle heavy in her chest.
As if sensing Lia’s mood, Erin caught her eye across the room. Her smile was wide, her eyes bright, a pleased flush on her cheeks. Victory was a damn good look on her.
“Careful.” Cerys sidled up to Lia, sliding her arm around Lia’s shoulders to pull her close. “Control your heart eyes if you don’t want anyone else to catch on.”
Lia’s cheeks warmed. “I do not have heart eyes.”
“Uh, yes, you do. It’s gross.”
“You’re one to talk! I’ve watched you and Xander make moon eyes at each other so many times over the years.”
“Ah, so you admit it.” Cerys poked Lia’s nose. “You were making them.”
“Shut up.”
Cerys gave a delighted laugh and squeezed her tighter. “So, what’s the plan tonight? You coming out with the rest of us, or are you disappearing into your love nest again?”
“Ew. Never say love nest again.”
“Isn’t that what it is? From the sounds of it, you can’t keep your hands off each other. Hey, on a scale from one to ten, how good is she in bed?”
Lia craned her neck to look Cerys in the eye.
“How much have you had to drink? You do know she’ll kill you if she overhears you, right?
” Since Cerys’s icy threat to Erin the night she and Lia had gotten together, the pair of them had been civil to one another once Cerys had begrudgingly accepted their relationship.
But Lia wouldn’t exactly call them friends. And Erin was still so twitchy when it came to their teammates.
“No one’s paying attention to us.”
Thankfully. Everyone else was too busy basking in the win with their loved ones. “Still.”
“So, your plans for tonight?”
“I think I’m going to be busy.”
“Okay. I’ll cover for you if the others ask where you are—but only if you come out one night next week. I miss seeing you outside of training.”
Guilt flashed through her. She had been neglecting her friends lately in favour of being with Erin. But they had such little time alone together already, she was loath to give too much of it up. “I will. I promise.”
In her pocket, Lia felt her phone buzz. It was likely just her social media going wild, but she still reached for it to check—and froze when she saw the message waiting for her. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Cerys peered back at her. “You got a big media interview lined up, superstar? The BBC calling? Sky Sports? New sponsor? Ooh, is it Nike?”
“No. Something even more astonishing.” Lia flipped her phone around to let Cerys read the screen.
“Holy shit.”
“Told you.”
“Is that actually real?”
Lia read it again, to make sure. But no, that was definitely her stepbrother’s name on the notification.
Hey. Watched your game. You’ve had an amazing season so far. Hope you manage to round it out with another trophy.
Cerys snatched the phone from Lia and squinted at it. “I think he might have been replaced by an alien.”
“I think you might be right. We haven’t spoken in months.”
“Maybe he’s finally realising he’s been a massive prick and that you actually might be better at this whole football thing than him?”
“Maybe.” Lia couldn’t help a sliver of suspicion, too used to Brett’s mind games over the course of her life, but she couldn’t sense any malice in the message. Perhaps they could turn a corner—if his ego had died down over the last few years.
Cerys let her be, and Lia was wondering whether she could duck away for a shower when Maisie bounded to her.
“Hi, Maisie.”
“Hi!” Maisie threw her arms around Lia’s waist and gazed at her with adoring eyes. “You were so good today.”
“You think so?”
“Me and every other person here with eyes. Do you want to come and meet my grandad?”
“Um…” If they weren’t in a room full of people, she wouldn’t have hesitated.
But was this where she wanted to meet Erin’s father for the first time?
She sought out Erin and found hazel eyes already looking straight at her.
Erin inclined her head, the tiniest amount, but it was enough for Lia to notice.
To see it as the permission she was desperately seeking. “Okay.”
“Yay!” Maisie pulled her through the throng of people until they reached the rest of the Finches. “Here she is! Grandad, Grandma, this is Lia. She’s the best.”
“The best, huh?” Erin’s father shared her accent, though not her skin tone—the years in Spain had made him tanned.
His face creased with wrinkles as he smiled, holding out a hand for her to shake.
“Something tells me you aren’t the only member of the family to think that.
” His eyes sparkled with amusement, his grip firm around Lia’s hand.
“Dad,” Erin hissed, her cheeks pink.
“What? I’m telling the truth, aren’t I?” He released Lia’s hand and indicated the woman standing beside him. “I’m James, and this is my wife, Isobel.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“And you. We’ve heard an awful lot about you.” Isobel reached out to draw Lia into a hug, seemingly uncaring about the sweaty, sticky mess of her clothes.
The panicked look on Erin’s face eased Lia’s discomfort somewhat—it was nice to know she wasn’t the only one on edge.
“Are your parents not here?” James craned his neck to peer over her shoulder.
“Dad!” Erin ran a hand across her face.
“What? What have I done now?” He glanced at Erin with confusion on his face. “Am I not allowed to ask any questions?”
“Lia doesn’t have a good relationship with her family.” Erin’s fingers twitched like she wanted to reach out to Lia, but then she bunched them into the hem of her shirt.
“Oh.” Mortification flashed across his face. “I’m sorry. Put my foot in it, did I?”
“It’s okay.” Lia smiled. “You weren’t to know.”
“Well, we tend to think that family is what you make of it, anyhow.” James puffed out his chest. “So you’re more than welcome to join ours. We’re going out for a celebratory meal tonight—will you join us? We’d love to get to know you better. I promise I won’t put my foot in it again.”
“I’d like that—if you’re sure I’m not intruding.”
“Nonsense! No such thing.” He turned to say something to Isobel.
Erin used his momentary distraction to press close and whisper. “I’m sorry. Our celebrations will have to wait.”
“That’s okay.”
Erin shook her head. “It’s not. I’ve sprung this on you. When I mentioned us going out to dinner with them, I didn’t realise it would be quite this soon.”
“That’s okay. I’m happy to get to know them.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”
“Thank you.” Erin leaned closer, shifted to press the ghost of a kiss to her temple. “That means a lot.”
The kiss was barely a whisper of contact, nothing compared to what they’d already shared, but it sent a tingle all the way to Lia’s toes. Already, she was counting the seconds until they could be alone.