Page 207 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
Then he lowered his head and covered his mouth with mine, and everything—the cars, the people, the catcalls from his teammates—melted away again.
ASHER
“Donovan!” Coach barked. “Get your ass in here.” He disappeared back inside his office.
I ignored the team’s heckling and finished pulling my shirt over my head. “That’s getting old,” I said, giving Elliott a light shove as I walked toward Coach’s office. “Find a new schtick.”
“We’ll find a new schtick when you stop getting in trouble.” Elliot snickered. “How many times have you been called into Coach’s office this season? And it’s only November.”
“New betting pool!” Adil shouted. “Fifty quid says Donovan gets called in thereat leasttwo more times before the holidays.”
I shook my head as the rest of the team rushed to place their bets.Idiots.
However, I couldn’t summon true annoyance toward them. It’d been two weeks since Scarlett and I got back together, and I hadn’t been able to stop grinning since. I owed the team for their help (even if their “help” simply involved taking my cars off my hands and driving them to RAB), so I let their good-natured taunts slide.
I entered Coach’s office for what felt like the umpteenth time that season and waited for him to speak.
My injuries were fully healed and I was training with the rest of the team on the pitch again, but I was still benched. Unfortunately, it was harder to convince Coach I’d changed than it was Scarlett.
I doubted telling him I loved him and snogging him in front of the team would help.
Coach’s eyes slitted like he could hear my thoughts and he wasnothappy about them. “So,” he said. “I heard you got back together with your girlfriend.”
My mouth fell open before I snapped it shut again. Of all the topics I thought he’d want to discuss, my love life wasn’t one of them.
Not to mention…how the hell did he know about me and Scarlett?
“My daughter is friends with your girlfriend,” Coach said, answering my unspoken question. “She talks. So do they.” His jerked his chin toward the door, his face crumpled with a scowl. “Can’t tell whether I’m running a team of professional athletes or an episode of bloodyGossip Girlat times.”
Add Coach knowing whatGossip Girlwas to the second shocker of the day.
“Yes, Scarlett and I are back together, sir,” I said, unsure where this was leading.
“Does she know what an idiot she’s dating?”
“Yes, sir, and she loves me anyway.”
Coach’s mouth twitched in the closest approximation of a smile I’d seen from him since his hat trick in 1995. When he noticed my answering smile, his expression morphed back into a scowl. “I also heard you gave away your fancy car collection.”
“Most of it, sir. Except for one.” I’d retrieved the Jaguar from a protesting Vincent the day after Scarlett and I made up. He pelted me with all sorts of English and French swear words, but he eventually gave up the keys with an angry grumble.
I was helping Scarlett plan a big birthday party for him next month, so hopefully that made up for it.
“You sad about it?” Coach asked.
I shook my head. “The cars were material things. I loved them, but I don’t need them anymore.”
I was working through my lingering guilt over Teddy’s death with Myles, the club’s psychologist. However, just knowing the reason behind why I acted the way I did helped me curb my worst impulses.
My emotions still got the better of me sometimes, but I didn’t vent them by punching someone or speeding in a supercar.
It was progress.
Coach grunted in reluctant approval. “You’ve worked hard in training, even while you were injured.” He examined me, his eyes shrewd. “What are your thoughts on Saturday’s match?”
I grimaced. Over the weekend, Blackcastle lost its second consecutive match. It’d been a home match, which stung even more.
“We were strong in the first half, but the attack line lagged in the second half,” I said honestly. “We weren’t as aggressive as we should’ve been, and our hesitation cost us at least one goal.”