Текст книги "Scoring Wilder"

Автор книги: R. S. Grey

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Liam: My mom passed out as soon as you guys left.

Kinsley: She can't hang.

Liam: She wouldn't stop talking about you. She was practically murmuring your name as she fell asleep.

Kinsley: I think I'm leaving you for her.

I need a more experienced partner ;) 730/890

Liam: Turn around, I'll show you how experienced I am.

Kinsley: Becca's driving... no can do...

Liam: She really liked you. Can't imagine why…

Kinsley: It could be because of any number of my talents. Did she hear me whistle? I'm a pretty good whistler.

Liam: I could whistle you into the ground.

Kinsley: What does that even mean?

You'd kill me with your whistling?

Liam: You should brush up on your idioms.

Kinsley: Maybe you can teach me? I'll be the student. Do you own a ruler?

Liam: Kinsley...

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"Uhh, Kinsley," Becca interrupted my texting session with a scared tone. I glanced up to find that we were pulling onto our street… but it was almost impossible to maneuver toward our house. News vans were parked out front with paparazzi idling next to them.

"What the hell? Are they just waiting outside of our house?" I asked, slipping my phone into my purse and pushing up onto my hands to get a better look. The second the news teams saw Becca's car, they jumped in-to action. Paparazzi pulled off their lens covers and adjusted the zoom straight onto the windshield.

Becca slowed the car down enough so that she wouldn't hit any of them, but they were getting way too close. Had she been 732/890

going the speed limit she would have run some of them over.

"Why are they here?" Becca snapped, pulling the car into the driveway. The paparazzi hadn't followed us onto the private property, but I turned around to find them lined up on the edge of the street like a row of vultures.

"Let's just hurry inside and we'll figure it out, okay?" I grabbed my purse and used it to shield my face as I ran for the door. Becca ran next to me and we didn't stop until we were safely inside with the door locked behind us.

"They were calling our names, Kinsley,"

Becca said with a hollow voice as she leaned back against the door.

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"They've been here all day," Emily said.

We looked up to find her making her way down the stairs with a few of our teammates in tow.

"Are you serious? They have nothing better to do than camp out front of our house?" I asked, tugging my hand through my hair.

Emily paused on the last stair. Her expression was bleak and her brows were furrowed tightly. "You don't know, do you?" she asked.

I snapped my gaze toward her eyes.

"Know what?"

She frowned and pointed toward the large sectional placed in our living room.

"C'mon. Come sit. It's not that big of a deal, but you'll want to just hear everything first."

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Becca and I followed her over to the couch as my heart pounded in my chest. I could feel it fighting to be heard, even as I pressed my hand against it, trying to calm my nerves.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, pacing in front of the couch.

"Tara went to the media. She spun the story in the worst possible way, and you and Liam are the biggest news in the country right now."

I could feel the blood drain from my face. "Wait? What?"

"Tara leaked the story of you dating Coach Wilder. The media is having a field day, spinning it like he was taking advantage of you and they're making you look like the 735/890

bad girl of soccer. Like you wanted to seduce your coach or something."

"Fuck! You've got to be kidding me. Does that girl have nothing to do other than attempt to ruin my life?"

I was beyond angry, tipping toward blind rage. She couldn't leave well enough alone. I should have realized she wasn't done tormenting me.

"And you're sure it was Tara?" Becca asked from her perch on the couch. I hadn't even thought to ask.

Emily mashed her lips together. "She was linked with the story over and over again. It wasn't like she asked to be an an-onymous source. She was interviewed and her photo was added to the story."

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"This is such bullshit!" I yelled, thinking of the girls that had wanted my autograph yesterday. I was a role model to those girls, and now I was no better to them than all the other dumb celebrities dragging their own names through the mud. I didn't want to be like them. I didn't want to be the bad girl of soccer. I wanted to be known for my skills, not who I was sleeping with on the side.

"Tara can go fuck herself," I explained, moving toward the stairs.

Becca hopped off the couch. "Kinsley, are you—"

I held up my hand. "I'm going to go call my mom and see if the PR team my dad has is working on this yet or not."

Once I got upstairs, I opened my laptop and searched for the news stories. Article 737/890

after article came up, each one worse than last. Slut of Soccer was the name of the worst article, posted by a salacious blog that half of America seemed to love to browse everyday.

I didn't have time to let my rage boil.

Tara thought she was messing with an innocent rookie, but I wouldn't stoop to her level.

She wanted me to fight back and talk shit about her in the media because that way she could ride the fame as well.

I'd show her by doing the exact opposite.

I wouldn't let this affect my soccer game. I wouldn't let this affect my relationship with Liam. And I sure as shit wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over that bully.

I called my mom as soon as I closed my door and explained everything to her.

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"Don't worry. I was already dealing with it this morning. I didn't want to notify you in case we could get away with you staying in the dark," she explained.

"Can we sue her for slander?" I asked, pacing my room.

"Well, technically, the facts she laid out were true, albeit skewed in a very negative light. We can't control what people are doing with the story on social media. People want a blood bath; they want to slander you and Liam because some people get off on tearing others down."

I nodded and chewed on my lip. "I should have been smarter about this. I knew she was going to do something like this. I should have put out a statement before she could."

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"There's no use worrying about that now, Kinsley," my mom argued, trying to calm me down.

“Mom, I can’t even leave my house!

There are paparazzi lined up outside!”

"I'll be flying in tomorrow and I've already booked a hotel with top notch security. You'll stay with me tomorrow night and we'll have security at your game so that you can concentrate on what's important."

I sighed hearing the details that she'd already laid out. Holing up in a hotel with my mom sounded like exactly what I needed. I wanted to pretend like none of this was happening. Once we made plans for the next day, I hung up and texted Liam.

Kinsley: FUCK TARA.

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Liam: I just heard– calling my agent +

PR team.

Kinsley: I'm so sorry My phone buzzed in my hand with Liam’s name flashing across the screen. As soon as I answered, his husky voice spilled out over the line.

"Don't you dare apologize. We'll get through this," Liam murmured.

I already missed him. Why had I chosen to leave instead of staying the night with him?

"I know. I just hate that our relationship seems to cause so much damage."

"I don't give a fuck what the world thinks, Kinsley. I'm so happy with you. I’m focusing on what's important. You and soccer. That's all I need."

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I smiled despite the circumstances, recalling what it'd felt like to fall asleep in his arms the night before. He was right. I'd focus on what was important and ignore the rest.

"Okay. My mom's coming in town tomorrow and I'm staying in her hotel with her for the next two days."

"That's a smart idea. Text me the hotel and I'll have a security guard there as well."

I didn't argue. His voice was commanding and I knew that he'd feel better if I agreed.

"Okay. Go call your agent," I said, falling back onto the bed.

"Okay… and Kins," he paused and I heard him take a deep breath, "I really care about you."

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I closed my eyes and soaked up his words. I loved him then. Of course, I loved this guy who would take on the world for me and asked for nothing in return. Well, besides my killer lovemaking.

"I know. We’ll get through this. Sweet dreams," I whispered before hanging up. It was too soon for declarations of love and I wouldn't dare say it during a conversation that had anything to do with Tara. I’d wait for a much better moment than this. Like the next time we're riding through a meadow, naked on horseback.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My mom assured me that the press release was sent late Sunday night, but the media was still relentless on Monday. There was a group of paparazzi waiting for me outside of the house, shouting questions and snapping photos when I left for practice Monday morning. We were forced to practice in an indoor facility down the road from our normal field.

Coach Davis asked me to stay after practice and explained that she and the team were behind me. She said the college sent out their own press release clearing my name and condemning Tara as a “conniving bitch”.

All right, maybe that’s not a direct quote, but still, Coach Davis was on my side and she wasn't going to give up on me yet.

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I was eating room service with my mom on Monday night when my phone rang.

Liam's dimpled smile lit up the screen and I felt my heart flutter.

"Hey babe," I answered with a tired voice.

"Hey, are you at the hotel?" he asked while

street

sounds

drifted

into

the

background.

"Yeah, my mom and I just ordered room service."

"Okay good, I'll be up in a second."

I glanced down at my robe and realized I still had wet hair from my shower.

"Oh... yeah ...okay, see you in a second,"

I said, hanging up and glancing over to my mom.

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"Liam's coming up. I think he might be here already, actually," I admitted with a sheepish smile.

My mom's eyebrows shot up. "I get to meet the infamous Liam Wilder. How exciting," she winked, and then took another bite of her meal.

A few minutes later, a soft knock sounded at our door and I hopped up to go let him in.

As soon as I turned the handle I inhaled his signature scent. He’d just come from practice so his body wash mingled with his sweat and musk. It was oddly seductive and I almost jumped him in the hallway, especially after I pulled the door open and saw his appearance. His light brown hair was unruly and sexy, his soccer shorts showed off his 746/890

tan, toned legs, and his workout shirt clung to his hard chest.

I unraveled a smile and jumped up to throw my arms around his neck.

The security guard stationed outside of our door cleared his throat and I started to laugh. I'd forgotten he was even there.

Mostly because normal people don’t have security guards.

"Well hello to you, too." Liam smiled and dipped down to give me a kiss. As soon as he pulled away, his eyes scanned over my shoulder to find my mother who’d stood up to greet him. I unwrapped my hands from around his neck and stepped back to eye her.

I knew he was comparing how similar we looked in that moment. She had the same dark brown hair that I did, but hers was 747/890

cropped into a short pixie cut. We had the same build, although I had a bit more muscle, whereas she was a little taller and more lithe.

I beamed watching her take Liam in. "I can't believe I finally get to meet you," she smiled, reaching out. "I'm Lydia."

He shook her hand and I thought I saw a little blush across his tan cheeks. "Hello Mrs.

Bryant."

"My daughter has talked my ear off about you for the past few weeks now," she admitted, and then I was the one with flushed cheeks.

Liam's cool gaze slid toward me.

"She's exaggerating, I hardly mention you at all," I winked.

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Liam glanced back to my mom wearing a cheeky half smile. "That’s not surprising to hear. Your daughter is definitely in love with me, Mrs. Bryant. She hasn't told me yet, but she will soon."

My mouth fell open. No, it fell onto the ground and just sat there as I stared at Liam.

My mom laughed and glanced over toward me with a knowing smile. I couldn't believe he'd just said that so... bluntly. And damnit, could the jerk read me that easily?

"Wow. You seem pretty confident about that, Liam," my mother joked, waving us over toward the table so we could finish eating.

Liam shrugged and I could feel his pen-etrating gaze on me. "I read that Mark Twain said all you need to succeed in life is 749/890

ignorance and confidence. Kinsley can attest to my having both of them."

I laughed. “You can read?”

He shot me a playful wink before my mom mentioned, "You know that's exactly how it was when I met Kinsley's father. I think we dated for a month before he asked me to marry him. But we were young and reckless, only nineteen at the time."

I coughed and tried to ignore the fact that Liam was still watching me. I'd forgotten about the fact that my mom had married at my age. I couldn't imagine. How would anyone find the time? I was trying to go to the Olympics, not plan out matching brides-maid dresses.

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"Well rest assured Mom, you will not have a teen bride on your hands." I finally found my voice and smiled up at her.

Liam shrugged. "You just turned nineteen. We have about 300 days left to change that."

My mouth dropped again and I turned to face him. "You can't be serious right now."

He smiled and shook his head. "Nah, but I was serious about the love thing."

I shot him a pointed stare and then picked up my plate of leftover fries and handed it to him.

"Are you sure you're done?" he asked, pinching my waist playfully.

I swatted his hand away, but if my mom weren't watching us I would have pushed him back onto the bed and kissed him 751/890

senseless. "Yup. Eat up. Did you just get done with practice?"

"Yeah. I'm exhausted. I won't stay long, just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And he wanted to meet me," my mom interjected with a smile that looked exactly like mine. The apple definitely didn't fall far from the tree.

Liam laughed. "Of course. Mostly I came to meet your mom. You were an after-thought." He winked and I shot him an angry scowl.

He swallowed up the last of my fries and put the plate back on the table. "I better get home or I'll fall asleep right here."

I frowned, not ready for him to go so soon. "Can I walk you down?"

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"Not dressed like that," he noted, and I realized I still had my robe on. "How about we go to dinner after your game tomorrow with our moms? My mom wants to see you again before she leaves for London," he noted as he walked toward the door.

I clapped my hands together and my mom agreed before I even had time to answer. “That sounds great."

He bent to kiss my cheek and then murmured in my ear so my mom couldn't hear.

"I'll be cheering for you tomorrow, Kins." His voice skimmed over my cheek and I pressed my lips together and nodded up at him. Our eyes locked and I soaked in one last moment of being near him.

Crap.

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Was I ready for this? At 19 is anyone equipped to give their heart away? Wasn’t I still trying to get to know my heart? Its likes, its dislikes? Liam was older and had probably sampled a whole plethora of girls before landing on me.

As I closed the hotel door, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the idea that I was maybe getting in over my head.

Being with a star athlete is the farthest thing from a normal, wholesome relationship. I didn’t want the limelight or the stardom and being with Liam meant accepting everything that came along with him.

Adios, heart. Nice knowing you.

…

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"You girls have worked hard for this moment, and you all need to remember that this is a practice run. Stay calm and focused on executing clean plays. This is a simple scrimmage, so let's get out there and show 'em what we've got!"

My team was standing in a huddle just behind the stadium door. We'd donned our new baby blue uniforms, warmed up, and came in for one final pep talk before the scrimmage started. I could feel my nerves brewing over, but I tried to squelch them.

Becca and I were both starting today's match. Emily hadn't made the cut to start, but I knew she'd still get a lot of playing time.

We all would. The point of today's game was to get accustomed to playing as a team, not for one of us to shine above the rest.

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Becca gripped my shoulder and I shot her a nervous smile.

"Wildcats on three," Coach Davis instructed, and then counted down.

"Wildcats!" we all screamed together in unison, and then the door sprung open and we were running out onto the field. It was a beautiful day in LA. The sun was shining overhead and most of the smog from this morning had cleared so that the temperature was warm and inviting. I was already sweating from our warm up, but it felt good. This is what I loved. I lived for soccer games; those ninety minutes of head to head competition fueled my body like nothing else in life.

I ran alongside Becca toward to the sideline and looked up into the packed stands to 756/890

find my mom sitting next to Mrs. Wilder.

They looked cute perched next to one another, like they might have been friends for years. I waved to them both as they chanted for Becca and me. I didn't see Liam yet, but I knew he was probably still at practice.

There was a pile of people hoarding the media box, much more than there should have been for a preseason women's soccer scrimmage. I rolled my eyes and ignored them. There was enough riding on this game without the added stress of my failures getting plastered across the Internet.

Sofie and our co-captain stepped forward to do the coin toss, and then we took the field to cheering fans. I marked my position and shook out my arms, trying to loosen my muscles and calm my breathing. It was 757/890

normal to feel nervous before a match, especially since I hadn't played an official game in months, but these nerves were in a league of their own.

I bent forward and gripped my knees, centering myself in the moment. The media would spin their stories however they damn well pleased, so there was no point in stress-ing about it. My eyes focused on the blades of grass bending beneath my cleat as my resolve began to build. This was my game. The media couldn’t touch me here.

The referee blew his whistle and in a flash, the game began.

We’d lost the toss, but it wasn’t long until our defenders assumed control of the ball and advanced it downfield. Everything fell into sync as it should have. I worked my way 758/890

into open space so Becca could pass me the ball. Her pass hit me in stride, and I used quick footwork to evade a few defenders. I was in my element, slicing through double teams and dodging slide tackles, and then I passed the ball to the next player. By half-time we were up by three and I was feeling confident. I'd executed well so far and my endurance was hardly being tested. All the late night runs and extra workouts were paying off.

I ran off the field to sub out and when I got to the side, I looked up to find Liam leaning against the field's fence. He looked just as sweaty as I did. I guess he’d rushed over from practice instead of showering. When he saw me glance toward him, he dipped his head and sent me a confident smile. There 759/890

was no need to draw any more attention than that, especially with the media's lenses pointed directly at us. I shot him a quick wink and then turned back to my team in time to catch Coach Davis’ waving us into a huddle.

The second half passed quickly, and other than one collision with a defender for the other team, I'd played a stellar game. It felt like a rush, coming off that field with a preseason win under our belt. Coach Davis was proud of us and I'd noticed that Becca and Emily had played great as well. I knew if we kept it up, we'd definitely be contenders for the national championship. I showered quickly and put on a fresh pair of cut-offs and a flowy tank top that I’d packed in my bag.

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"Do either of you want to come with us to get dinner?" I asked Emily and Becca as we headed out of the locker room.

"Nah, Penn's picking me up," Becca said.

"I have a Skype date," Emily winked. She and her boyfriend probably kept Skype in business, but I couldn't blame them. I'd do the same thing if Liam lived across the country.

"All right, I'll see you guys later then!" I waved as we parted ways. They headed toward the parking lot and I turned to find my tiny cheering section waiting for me at the base of the bleachers. I couldn’t help the smile from unfolding across my face at the sight.

"There she is!" Mrs. Wilder cheered, throwing her hands in the air. I laughed and 761/890

shook my head as they all clapped loudly.

They really were making a big deal out of this.

"For someone that hates being in the limelight you guys sure know how to put the attention on me," I joked, stepping up to the group and giving my mom a side hug. She squeezed me back hard before letting go. A bright camera flash caught the entire exchange, momentarily blinding me.

"All right, All right. Let's go eat and we'll only talk about what a stellar soccer player you are as we walk to the car," my mom promised.

I’d felt cheerful walking up to the group, but my endorphins from the game started wearing off as soon as I was reminded of the shuttering cameras. The paparazzi were 762/890

completely impossible to ignore, even as I tried to push their presence to the back of my mind.

I hadn’t searched my name on the internet since that night a few days ago, but I knew it wasn’t getting better. As long as Liam and I were together, I would be in front of the spotlight, and I had to consider if I was doing the right thing. I was putting a lot on the line for a guy that was probably as ready to commit to a relationship as George Clooney was.