Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Finding out your man is a bitch is the worst gender reveal ever.
—Beau to Denver
BEAU
My nerves were shot.
This game was brutal.
There was pushing. Shoving. Hair pulling.
“It looks like the WWE out there.” Court shook his head. “The refs aren’t calling anything.”
“They’re too afraid to fuck it up,” Boone mused.
“I don’t think that’s it,” I admitted. “We aren’t trying to get away with dirty hits.
We’re playing good soccer. The other team is playing like brawlers, and the refs are turning a blind eye to every single foul they witness against us.
Then they’re forced to call the retaliation calls when we get tired of getting elbows to our kidneys. ”
“How exactly are you going to allow this to happen and not call it? This is the game that decides whether y’all make it to the finals or not,” Boone grumbled. “Someone is going to get hurt.”
I agreed.
“That center ref is a fucking joke,” Court growled.
“Isn’t that the ref that Magnolia used to date?” Charleigh asked.
I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Is it?”
“One would think that’d be a conflict of interest,” Court grumbled. “He should’ve recused himself from this game knowing that someone that he used to date would be playing in it.”
“Agreed,” I muttered.
Now that Charleigh had mentioned the connection, I saw the way he watched her, as if he couldn’t help himself.
He watched more of Magnolia than he did the game.
It was more than obvious that he still felt something for her.
Which only proved that he really shouldn’t be reffing this game.
The opposing team’s goalie caught a crossed ball that went a little wide and booted it to the opposite side of the field.
Magnolia received the ball and was just getting ready to distribute the ball to her midfield when a player came running at her like a linebacker.
She passed the ball and relaxed, thinking that was the end of the interaction.
Only, the player on the other team had other ideas, slamming into Magnolia so hard that you could hear the impact of their two bodies all the way up in our seats.
I watched as she was knocked to the ground so hard that her head whipped backward.
Her hands went back to catch her fall, which was when she broke her arm as the woman landed on top of her.
I heard the snap of her bone breaking, and decided that I would never, ever be able to unhear that sound.
I was running down the steps toward the bench as her teammates pulled the woman off of her.
She was crying, holding her arm that was bent at an unnatural angle.
The center ref, Eloy, was hovering over her as she was carried off the field.
I waited impatiently at the sidelines as she was carted over on a side-by-side.
Eloy was talking to her, but stopped when I got to Magnolia’s side and said, “Are you okay, baby?”
Magnolia’s pain-filled eyes found mine, and I saw relief written in them. “I’m…”
Eloy looked stunned. “Who are you?”
I leveled my gaze on him. “Aren’t you supposed to be reffing a game? If you can call what you’re doing reffing.”
Eloy looked like I’d punched him in the mouth.
He opened his mouth and then closed it.
But I had a point, and he knew it.
He disappeared back onto the field, his steps stiff. You could tell that I’d pissed him off.
I looked back at my girl, and she said, “Take care of Iris?”
“I have her, darling. I have her.”