Page 7 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)

That was all well and good, but unfortunately, that meant I was now caught in the middle.

Asher Donovan.Of all the people in the world, the other playerhadto be him. He was most women’s celebrity crush, and he might’ve been mine too had it not been for my loyalty to Vincent, my strict No Footballers rule, and his questionable reputation.

Asher was generally regarded as the world’s greatest footballer. The striker who played as impressively as he looked, the savior whose goals had brought his team back from the brink of defeat countless times. But for all his talent on the pitch, he was mired in controversy off it. The car crashes, the parties, the revolving door of women—all tabloid fodder that the public ate up like sweets at a children’s party.

I’d never met the man, but if other players had a god complex, I could only imagine how massive his was.

“Is there anything I can say to get out of this?” I asked hopefully.

Lavinia’s brows rose another half an inch.

I held back a sigh.That’s what I figured.

“Lessons start next Monday,” she said. “You’ve cross-trained footballers before, so small tweaks to your previous regimens should be sufficient. I’ve also taken a look at your summerschedule and adjusted it accordingly. Are there any more questions?”

It was a subtle dismissal.

“No,” I said. “I’ll have a final training plan ready by Monday.”

“Good.” Lavinia returned to her papers. “Thank you, Scarlett.”

Okay, that was acleardismissal.

When I exited her office, Carina was already waiting for me with her bag in hand. It was six thirty-five, which meant it was officially after work hours.

She grimaced when she saw me. “That bad?” She could read my expressions better than anyone.

“I’ll tell you about it over drinks,” I said. “I need one. Badly.”

CHAPTER 3

ASHER

“A hundred quid says you or DuBois will punch the other before the month is over,” Adil declared. “Wilson, you taking that bet?”

“Absolutely not,” Noah said, his tone dry. “Leave me out of your bets. They never end well.”

“I have no idea what you mean, and I’m offended that’s how you’re sending me off for the summer.” Adil clutched his chest. “When I’m on the flight home, I’ll remember your words. They’ll hurt.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll stop stirring up shit next season.”

“Is that any way to talk to your teammate? What type of example are you setting for your daughter?”

“Yes, it is, and my daughter’s not here,” Noah said.

I shook my head.

Noah, Adil, and I were at the Angry Boar, our favorite pub, for a last get-together before they flew home to the US and Morocco, respectively. It was the day after our disastrous loss against Holchester, but they’d already heard all about Coach forcing Vincent and me to train together for the summer.

I’d invited them out hoping for sympathy and distraction, but I should’ve known better. Adil thought my situation was hilarious, and Noah was stoic as a rock.

Wankers.

“I’m going to order us another round,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

Adil had moved on to needling Noah about his nonexistent love life, and Noah was too busy ignoring him to do more than nod at my words.

I made my way toward the bar. I got a few glares and snide mutters, but no one openly pushed for a confrontation.