Chapter 21
Lily
We need to win this game.
The final. And I’ve scored twice already.
I have to score this one.
A hat trick.
Come on, Lily, you’ve got this.
After seeing Jenna Dillan last weekend, I’m determined to be just like her.
But my legs feel funny.
Lifting my head, I see the keeper is off her line. This is it. The ball sails over her, hitting the back of the net.
I did it.
Why am I shaking?
The team wrap me up and I catch Beck with my parents in the crowd. My parents are hugging each other as they bounce up and down, screaming with Beck and the rest of the crowd.
We’ve done it. There’s no way they can catch us now. There’s only two minutes left on the clock.
The ref blows the whistle, and we all get back into position as the opposition kick off for the final minutes.
Why can’t I stop shaking?
I use my shoulder to push back just like Beck does when we play against each other.
I manage to push the girl off the ball and turn to pass to Georgie, but as I do, a pain shoots up my shins, making me scream out, collapsing to the ground, pulling my legs into my chest. “Mum,” I scream.
I need my mum. She’ll know what’s wrong.
She always knows how to make everything better.
“Baby, what happened?” She’s here right by my side in seconds.
“I don’t know, Mum. My shins hurt so bad.” My lips tremble as I hold back the tears. It hurts so bad. My hands shake, and Mum clasps them in hers. “Mum, what’s going on?”
“Baby, I don’t know” Her head swings to my dad, who wraps my Jenna Dillan scarf around me as he bends to pick me up, and I curl into his warmth. Beck is at his side, looking at me with tears in his eyes.
The memories of that game plague me as I make my way down to the boot room.
But it’s not just that memory I’m having problems with right now.
I can’t stop thinking about Jade and Olivia.
Beck has let me know what’s happening, but I can’t stop the tightness in my chest. It’s all too much right now.
And adding to my anxiety is that they want me to lace up and get out on the pitch.
In my heart, I want to. I want to be where I felt the most free, but my head keeps pulling me back.
Not bearing to step foot in the boot room, I continue through the tunnel until I reach the pitch side.
Taking a seat in the dugout, I start jotting notes and questions down to ask Jenna.
I must have been there for no more than five minutes before Marcus darts out from the tunnel ahead of me.
He’s a vision in the Spanish colors. Bright royal blue shorts and a burgundy shirt with yellow stripes across his shoulders, and his number 7 proudly displayed on his back.
His bronze skin is a stunning contrast against the bright colors of the strip.
But I’m blinded by his smile. It’s intoxicating as he sprints toward the center, where some of the Spanish men and ladies under twenty-one squad are waiting.
He greets them all with a handshake and a smile.
And I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips.
Damn, I need to remind myself why I don’t like this man.
But the reality is, the more time I spend with him, I’m struggling to hang on to why I hate him.
And when he pulls his gaze away from the crowd surrounding him, pushing his unruly hair out of his eyes and fixing those deep brown eyes on me, my mind takes me back to him looking up at me from between my legs, and I clench my thighs together.
Not now. We have to spend almost three weeks with this man. We will not end up back in his bed.
He starts to run some drills, and I’m mesmerized by the way he moves on and off the ball.
His movements are fluid and quick. But it’s the look of pure exhilaration and joy on his face.
I’m frozen watching him fly up and down the pitch.
It’s not until the ground feels different, softer under my feet, that I realize I’ve moved from my seat to the sideline of the pitch, completely enraptured by the man in front of me.
Spotting me watching, he jogs over to where I stand.
He’s practically vibrating with energy when he reaches me, his breath coming in short and sharp.
Sweat dripping from his forehead, and a smile so wide, I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful sight.
“You watching me like a creeper, Chambers?”
“You look good out there, Diaz.”
“Wow, is that a compliment? I have to mark this and celebrate this achievement?”
“Watch it.”
“Fancy helping me celebrate?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “No, but…” Looking over his shoulder at the group, a pang of jealousy and longing hits me, before I feel slightly breathless.
“No, forget it.” I wave him off and turn to head back to my seat to try and settle my heart that feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest, but he grasps my elbow, halting my steps.
“But what, Petardo?”
“It’s fine.” My heart rate spikes, and I take a deep breath to try and calm it.
“I thought I was ready,” I whisper, not daring to look him in the eyes.
Worrying about the pity I’ll find in them.
He hooks his fingers under my chin pulling my eyes back up to meet his, but it isn’t pity I see.
It’s kindness, and I feel a brick fall from my carefully built wall.
“I told you before, don't hide from me.” His tender voice weakens me further.
I squeeze my eyes shut before I say so quietly, I’m not sure he will hear. “I want to lace up my boots again. But I’m scared.”
“Scared of what? Hurting yourself again?” His hands circle my wrists, his thumbs caressing my pulse points. The movement is gentle, and it calms my racing heart. Opening my eyes to meet his, slowly pulling my hands away, I nervously rake my fingers through my hair.
“This will sound stupid if I tell you.”
“You could never say anything stupid,” he reassures.
“I worry—”
“Diaz. Chambers. You both ready for this tour?” Leanne appears out of nowhere, and I’m thankful for her intrusion.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Marcus frowns at my sudden change of mood but nods toward Leanne.
“Great, follow me,” Leanne says.
“Tonight, Chambers,” he whispers next to me as we trail behind Leanne.
“I’m fine,” I mumble out the corner of my mouth.
“Don’t lie to me. I can’t help you if you hide from me.” His pinky brushes against mine as we walk. And with that gentle caress and his words, I know I really can’t hide from him. And I’m not sure I want to.