Page 30 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
And when I found out I’d never dance professionally again, I hadn’t shed a single tear. Devastation was a private thing, to be confined within the walls of my mind and soul.
So no, I wasn’t prone to emotion-led decisions. I kept my thoughts as rational as possible.
But sometimes, when I was around Asher, I found it hard to think much at all.
My mind blurred around the edges. I was roasting in my leotard and tights. I couldn’t tell whether that was because of the weather or?—
Earl cleared his throat. The sound had the same effect as dumping ice water over a roaring fire.
My mental haze vanished, and Asher and I took a simultaneous step away from each other.
Earl didn’t say a word, but I swore I saw a smirk slip across his mouth.
“Let’s go inside.” Asher turned his back to me and unlocked the front door. “It’s too hot out here.”
A hush blanketed us again during our walk through his house.
“Pizza and ice cream. Not the diet I’d expect from a top footballer,” I said. I was beating a dead horse at this point, but I needed to fill the silence.
“I don’t make a habit of it.” Asher’s arm grazed mine as we turned the corner. “But sometimes, I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
A faint roughness ran beneath his words, turning what should’ve been an innocent response into anything but.
Heat warmed the back of my neck. A brief image of Asher enjoyingsomething sweetflashed through my mind before I crushed it with a determined fist.
I took another, deliberate step away from him as we walked deeper into the house. It didn’t stop the bolt of awareness streaking through my blood, but at least I was actively fighting back against my hormones.
Those traitors.I could never trust them.
Asher gave me an abbreviated tour of the mansion, which was even larger than it looked from the outside.
Original Picassos hung next to framed shirts signed by retired football legends; a state-of-the-art entertainment center faced a display case filled with trophies, medals, and sentimental items like the boots he wore in his first ever Premier League match. A forty-person screening room with a genuine concession stand occupied the same hall as an indoor bowling alley, and natural light spilled through dozens of giant windows overlooking the grounds.
It straddled that perfect line between cozy and luxurious, and I loved it.
“The basement is dedicated to all things fitness. It’s actually level with the lower tier of the back garden—the first floor of the house leads to the main tier—so there’s plenty of light,” Asher said, leading me down the stairs. “The sauna, steam room, and indoor pool are to the left. Gym and massage room are to the right.”
“So you basically have an at-home spa.” I twisted my neck to get a better look at the infrared sauna. I’dlovea personal sauna. They helped a lot with my pain.
“Basically.” We stopped in front of a closed door. “You ready to see the latest addition to Spa Donovan?”
“I suppose.” I feigned a yawn to mask my curiosity. “Hopefully the inside is more inspired than the name.”
Asher rewarded me with a quick grin. “Hey, that’s why I’m a footballer, not a hospitality mogul. That being said…” He opened the door with a flourish. “Welcome to our new training center.”
I didn’t know what I’d expected. A standard room with mirrors, maybe, or gray concrete and a barre.
I should’ve known better; Asher Donovan didn’t do things halfway.
Instead of a basic workout area, I walked into a full-blown professional ballet studio.
Correction: it wasn’taballet studio; it wastheballet studio. As in, the ballet studio of my dreams, only even better.
RAB hadn’t spared any expense with its facilities, but this…this was everything I’d dreamed of.
A gleaming expanse of hardwood stretched across the vast space, its surface so polished it appeared to undulate with sunlight. It was a sprung floor, which meant it was designed to offer optimal shock absorption and minimize the stress on bones and joints.
Golden warmth poured through a wall of windows that opened onto an attached outdoor gym, and a double row ofbarres lined the perimeter of the room. They appeared to have been custom-built to accommodate for my and Asher’s different heights. A black Steinway piano and state-of-the-art sound system dominated one corner while potted plants added a welcome pop of greenery throughout the studio.