Текст книги "Scoring Wilder"

Автор книги: R. S. Grey

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Instead, I answered him vaguely.

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"Yeah, I went with Becca yesterday after practice," I said, just as Becca threw her arm around me. Speak of the tipsy Devil.

"Ohhh, are you telling him about the spa?" she said with a drunken slur. "Are you going to show him the Brazilian wax?" she asked, and then slowly covered her mouth.

Her eyes were the size of saucers. "Oh, oops!

I wasn't supposed to say that."

She giggled drunkenly and then looked at me. "I'm soooooo sorry, Kinsley. I thought you wanted to show it off like we were joking about, so that's why I said that. I would never embarrass you like that on purpose." I had a serious suspicion that Becca was acting more drunk than she actually was. She was slurring her speech and talking much louder than she usually did, but her eyes were 229/890

crystal clear. Tipsy or not, she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I'm going to go find Jace!" she sang, and then danced off before I could even think fast enough to yell at her.

I wanted to strangle her.

No, I wanted to strangle her then bring her back to life, and then strangle her again.

I couldn't even look at Liam. I felt his eyes on me, but I was focused on the floor beneath his shoes. This couldn't actually be happening. Rewind. Someone hit rewind!

"You used my gift card to get a Brazilian wax?” Liam asked, and I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. That's what finally made me glance up. Sure enough, he was sporting a cocky grin and there was a lightness to his grey eyes that hadn’t been there before.

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I crossed my arms tighter. "She made me do it. It was nothing," I answered, mimicking his own words.

Liam wiped his hand down his sharp cheek bones and strong jaw before he let it fall away.

I could almost see the fight seep out of him.

His jaw clicked back and forth, and I thought he'd say something to dismiss himself from my presence, but instead he murmured, "Come here," as he reached down to take my hand.

I’d like to think that as I glanced down to see my hand engulfed in his, that I at least hesitated for a moment, but let’s not kid ourselves. As he pulled me down the hallway, I had to hold back the urge to yell, “Move it 231/890

or lose it people.” Sure, in the back of my mind I hoped no one spotted us, but that concern was buried deep, deep beneath the rest of my thoughts.

We kept going down the hallway until Liam pushed a random door open and pulled me inside, then closed it and locked it behind him. I was standing against the back of the door, breathing hard and clenching my fists, when he finally turned to look toward me.

"I'm seriously trying here. There's about a million reasons I should walk out of this room right now.”

"What are you talking about?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant. I could feel the tension between us. My skin was practically crackling from it.

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But until that moment, I thought it’d been one sided. I thought I was pining for something I could never have, should never have.

"Do you realize what's at stake for you?

If Coach Davis finds out I’m interested in you, we’ll be in deep shit. Do you understand how influential she is for Olympic tryouts?

That’s your future, Kinsley.” He moved up so close to me that our faces were practically touching. His cologne ensnared every one of my senses. Unrestrained emotion radiated off of him; I didn't know if he was about to kiss me or hit me.

Liam was control, so to see him worked up was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Yes. I knew what was at stake for me, but in that moment I couldn't find the 233/890

willpower to care. I couldn't see anything beyond him standing in front of me in that dark room. Everything that existed beyond his dark silhouette was hazy.

"I don't care," I answered simply.

Three simple words whispered across a quiet room was all the acceptance he needed.

Those words were like the striking of a match.

He moved toward me so fast that I couldn't catch my breath before his lips were on mine. He captured my mouth, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me toward him. His arm held my body against his and I could feel every coiled muscle. His kiss was hard and demanding. His tongue swept over mine and I moaned, helpless to my body's reaction to him. My hands 234/890

clutched his shirt as I tried to take him in, take all of him, and keep it just like this forever.

"Liam," I moaned, trying to understand the emotions ricocheting through me. Now that I was finally allowed to touch him, there was a feeling of immense relief. It was as if my body was inhaling its first breath of air after a long dive.

"Kinsley," Liam responded with a husky moan of his own, and then turned me around and pushed me back toward the bed.

My desire flared as his hard body shoved me back. My calves hit the mattress and then we were dipping backward in one clean sweep.

His weight was almost too much, but I liked it. He pinned me down as my dress bunched around my waist. We were speeding 235/890

200 miles per hour, not stopping for lights or pumping our breaks. His fingers dug seductively into the flesh of my thigh. I wanted him to leave marks so that I could prove to myself that he'd lost control with me, that this was happening and it wasn't just some lucid dream.

My head fell back as I pressed my body up to meet his. I could feel him against his jeans and I wished there to be nothing between us. Hot skin on skin as his mouth sought out fresh areas of my body.

My hands found his hair and I pulled and yanked just as I'd imagined doing every moment since I first saw him. He responded with small nips on my neck and chest. My dress was tugged down and I could feel his smooth jaw on the swell of my breast.

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He had to keep going. I needed him to keep going.

But just as his hand skimmed over the top of my thigh to push my dress up, there was a loud crash against the door followed by drunken laughter. Mumbled voices echoed through the door, and in that instant, the magic was sucked out of the room like a giant vacuum. Liam jumped off me so fast that I would have had whiplash if I weren’t lying back against his bed.

"You have to leave, Kinsley. Now," he demanded, tugging his hands through the locks of his hair that had been mine only moments ago. Mine to tug, mine to tangle, mine to pull as his mouth kissed me.

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He looked like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. His tortured expression made me regret everything we’d just done.

Was I a mistake? Did he not want this?

"What? Why?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows so I could see him pacing around the room.

"Get out, Kinsley," Liam said again, his tone loud and harsh. He wasn't yelling, but he might as well have been. “We can’t do this. Leave, Kinsley. Now.”

His words felt like a slap in the face, and I had enough dignity to get out before he made it even worse. I had hope that he would come to his senses as I passed him and headed for the door, but I turned the door knob and bolted without him saying another word.

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The drunken fool that had ruined our moment was still lying outside against the door. He was now completely passed out with a dopey smile across him face. I stepped over him, held my chin high, and tried not to wonder what would have happened if he’d chosen a different door to pass out against.

Chapter Nine

I was so anxious about practice Monday morning that I woke up an hour before my alarm and was the first one downstairs. I sat in the kitchen, nursing a bowl of granola and fruit, when Becca finally came down, wiping sleep from her eyes.

I'd avoided her like the plague the day before, not only because I was annoyed with her about the wax comment, but also because I didn't want to lie to her about what happened between Liam and I. I tried to push away the memory of his lips on mine.

Stop it. They were not that great. It wasn’t the best kiss you’ve ever had and you are definitely not falling for your coach.

There, see that’s not so hard.

"Morning, Kinsley," she offered gently.

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"Hey," I muttered, staring down into my bowl of granola. Yesterday had been terrible.

I didn't want to think about Liam, but I couldn't help it. I knew he had feelings for me, and I knew we couldn't be together, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt when he kicked me out on Saturday night. It felt like a personal rejection rather than a logical one, and I couldn't get that out of my head.

Becca walked around the counter to where I was sitting and gave me her best puppy dog eyes.

"I'm sorry about the wax comment. That was really dumb and I know it was probably embarrassing," she said, wrapping me in a giant hug. "So, I'm not letting you go until you tell me that you forgive me."

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I lasted all of two seconds before cracking a smile. "Fiiine. Fine, but you have to promise that I can get you back sometime.

Okay?"

"Done! You can pants me at the next party we go to, but just warn me ahead of time so I can plan on wearing really cute underwear," she winked, then headed to the fridge for breakfast.

I laughed and took a bite of granola.

"Now that you're not mad at me, do you think you could fill me in on the whole..." she paused and looked over her shoulder before mouthing, "Liam situation?"

"Wow, that didn't take you long," I joked before finishing off the rest of my breakfast.

"If you hurry, I'll tell you in the car."

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We gathered our things quickly and I had just enough time to decide that I would be honest with Becca. I felt bad about keeping it from Emily, but the fewer people to know, the better, and Becca already knew something was going on anyway.

Once I parked outside the practice field, she unbuckled and turned to face me.

"Okay, spill," she smiled.

"You first. Did something happen between you and Jace?" I asked.

"You mean before you pulled my ass out of the party?"

After I’d bolted out of Liam’s room Saturday night, I’d found Becca and forced her to leave the party with me. She’d passed out as soon as we got to the car, so it saved 243/890

me from having to yell at her the whole way home.

I cringed. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was mad at you and Liam, and I just wanted to leave, but I didn't want to abandon you there."

Becca relaxed back against the seat,

"Nah, I'm kidding. I'm actually glad you found me when you did. I wasn't really into Jace. He was a cute distraction, but I haven't really thought about him since the party."

I envied her. To have the rights to my thoughts back would be a nice change of pace. I'm not sure when Liam had taken root inside of my brain, but he didn't appear to be leaving anytime soon.

"But obviously something happened with you and Liam. Right?” Becca asked, 244/890

pulling me out of my reverie. “You can tell me. I would never tell anyone else."

"Oh, like you kept the Brazilian a secret?"

She mashed her lips together and focused on the steering wheel. "Well, that was actually not so much of a slip in tongue as it was me forcing you and Liam to face your attraction toward one another. I mean, he was staring you down at the party like he was going to strip your clothes off right there. I just thought he needed a little shove in the right direction," she confessed.

I gaped and then narrowed my eyes. "I knew it! I knew you weren't that drunk."

"You can't be mad at me. It obviously worked! He dragged you away like he was a caveman about two seconds later!"

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I smiled at the memory. His hand had gripped mine so tightly; he hadn't given me the option at all. It's not like I put up a fight.

"It doesn't matter..." I began. "We kissed on Saturday night, but it didn't last long and he instantly regretted it. He pretty much yelled at me to get out of his room."

"Wow, really?"

I frowned and stared out the window.

The early morning fog was lifting and soon the rest of our team would arrive for practice. Soon he would arrive for practice.

"Yeah. There are about five good reasons standing in the way of my attraction to him.

All of which don’t seem to be enough to deter me.”

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“Well, we'll see how he acts today. You can't give up yet. He wants you and you want him. It doesn't have to be complicated."

I rolled my eyes at her for making it sound so simple. He was already on his last warning with his sponsors about his public image. My Olympic dreams were at stake, not to mention my college career and my fra-gile heart. How could the situation not be complicated?

…

I shouldn't have worried. The entire time at practice, Liam completely ignored me, which was quite a feat considering we split up into our position drills again. He gave all the girls feedback after their turn, yet with me he'd do 247/890

a simple nod or mutter a "good" or "nice form" without making eye contact.

I felt completely invisible.

Tara didn't seem to mind, though. She basked in his attention, making sure to stand extra close to him when she asked about her technique. How many times did he have to describe the same thing over and over again before he realized that she was just manipulating him?

"I'm not sure I've got it. Will you watch me do it one more time?" she asked with just the right amount of needy pout.

Liam pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded for her to continue.

"Oh my god. Enough," I mumbled, tired of watching the Tara and Liam Show.

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I must have said it louder than I thought though because Tara looked up at me before she started. "Excuse me?" she asked, taking a step closer to me.

"Enough with this drill, I need a water break," I lied, propping my hands up on my hips and daring her to challenge me. I was in a fighting mood, and in that moment I didn't care that she was the leader and I was the rookie.

"Go take one then. But you really should work on your endurance."

I fought the urge to ask her what the hell needing water had to do with my endurance.

I'd beat her at every single one of our sprints and I came in first during our long distance warm up runs every time.

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"Okay, c'mon, let's focus," Liam said, staring at Tara. He couldn't even look me in the eye. Fucking coward.

"Did you want to show me that drill?" he asked Tara, but before she turned around, she flashed me a smug grin and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder.

"Sure thing, Coach Wilder."

At that point I pretty much blacked out for the remainder of practice. I pushed myself beyond what felt good because I wanted to work out all my annoyance and anger.

Coach Davis joked about me being an over-achiever at the end of practice, but I couldn't even muster a smile.

…

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"Finally, you answer!" my mom said as I fell back on my bed. I'd had lunch and showered after practice, but now my muscles were starting to ache and an afternoon nap was calling my name.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've been busy lately.

I just got back from practice and I'm exhausted."

I held the phone between my ear and shoulder as I pulled the covers up to my chin.

"Ah, I won't keep you long. I wanted to talk to you because there have been quite a few companies calling us lately with endorsement deals for you. I know you can’t take them up on their offers while you’re playing for the NCAA, but there's Adidas and Nike, as well as a few other big ones."

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That was the last thing I was thinking about at the moment, but she was right. I had to consider my career beyond college at some point. After all, if I made the Olympic team college would be put on hold.

"Would you mind just saving them for now?"

"Sounds good.”

After we hung up I rolled over and plugged my phone into charge. Then I grabbed my calendar off my nightstand and flipped through the worn pages. Last time I checked there was exactly ten months until the Olympics tryouts. Now there was nine months, two weeks, and one day.

I threw off my blanket, ran down the hall, and barged into Becca's room.

"C'mon, let's go," I demanded.

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She was sitting at her desk, scrolling through Facebook. "What? Where? We just got home."

"Let's do some strength training. We didn't do much of that at practice today."

Becca groaned, but stood up and closed her laptop. "You're a freaking drill sergeant."

"Don't you want to stand a chance at tryouts?"

"Yes, but I also really want to not move for the rest of the day," Becca laughed.

"Rest is for the dead, Becca!"

We ended up working out hard, and then crawling onto the couch and not moving the rest of the day. Despite what Coach Davis and Liam said, the chance of me making the Olympic team was really slim. They scouted girls from every college and every 253/890

professional team in the country, and then they selected the top players and invited them to tryout. My goal for now was to play the best soccer I could at ULA and hope to get that invitation in nine months.

It was the perfect distraction from the thoughts about Liam trying to weasel their way into my consciousness.

…

"He completely ignored you at practice yesterday?" Becca asked.

"Not even a peep in my direction. I think he’s done with me," I answered as Becca and I headed to my car Tuesday morning.

"I assure you, he is not done with you.

He's clearly doing it on purpose... maybe you 254/890

should make it impossible for him to ignore you."

"How? Attacking him at practice?" I laughed.

"No. More subtle than that." She squinted in thought. "It'll be hot today... I think practicing in your sports bra would be completely acceptable."

I grunted. "Oh, yeah, really subtle.

Maybe you should have given me that advice before I put on a neon pink sports bra this morning."

Becca cheered, practically hopping off her seat. "That's even better! I'll do it too so he doesn't think you're doing it on purpose."

"Whatever. Let's see how the practice goes first."

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Becca groaned. "Fine, but all I'm saying is that if you want him to stop ignoring you, you should make it harder for him."

"That just feels so... calculated. Not to mention I shouldn't be concentrating on him during practice."

"There's not a girl on that field that isn't concentrating on him during practice. You've been kicking ass lately, so you deserve a little fun. A little Liam-filled fun. You deserve to fill your fun bits with Liam."

I laughed and put the car in park, trying to prepare myself for seeing him in a few minutes.

"Operation Brandi Chastain has officially begun," Becca declared.

"Why her?"

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"Remember when she scored the goal in that shoot-out for the World Cup title and she ran across the field and ripped her shirt off?"

"So... you want me to rip my shirt off?"

"That'd be awesome, but I think people would assume you were on drugs. Better just take it off like a normal person."

The first hour of practice went as usual.

We didn't split up into positions, which was unfortunate for two reasons: 1. Liam could ignore me much easier when we were in a big group, and 2. Becca was in my ear telling me to take my shirt off every five minutes. She really was a bad influence. I should reevalu-ate my friendships.

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"Okay, seriously. It's hot as hell and even if we weren't doing Operation B.C. I'd want to take my shirt off," Becca said.

We were taking a five minute water break and it was the perfect time to get rid of our shirts if we were actually going through with the plan.

"You can't abbreviate the operation to B.C. or I'll just think of Spartacus the whole time."

Becca cracked up and I chanced a glance toward Liam. He was standing off to the side, chatting with Tara and Coach Davis. He hadn't looked in my direction once that morning and I was getting tired of it. One glance from him and I would have forfeited the dumb “operation”, but I was sick of being ignored. Not to mention he looked even 258/890

sexier than usual with his light grey t-shirt and workout shorts. His legs were toned and I wanted to throw myself at him every time my eyes lingered to where he was standing.

"Ugh, fine. Take your freaking top off," I whispered, tossing down my water bottle and reaching for the bottom of my shirt. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was hotter than usual. No one could blame me for wanting to rid myself of extra layers... right?

I laid my shirt on top of my soccer bag and straightened back up.

Becca giggled wildly and I hissed for her to be quiet. She'd ruin the plan for sure.

"He's watching you and scowling."

"Scowling?" I groaned. What was with him and scowling? It was his default expression whenever he was around me.

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"Yeah, full on angry scowl. God, he's so hot. I'm not sure if this plan will work, but at least he's looking at you."

"Cute sports bra, Kinsley," Emily said, coming up to us. I hid my mouth behind my hand, trying to cover up my laugh with a cough.

"Thanks Emily," I finally mustered.

Telling Emily about Operation B.C. was completely out of the question. She had a much better moral compass than Becca and I, and I'm sure she wouldn't have agreed with our logic.

Coach Davis blew her whistle, drawing our attention over to where she was standing with Liam and Tara. "Okay, girls! Let's line up on the sidelines and we'll form teams for a short scrimmage."

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Liam was still scowling and now Tara was joining him. Oh good, I was pissing everyone off. Yippee.

We hurried to line up and I ended up at the end of the sideline with my hands on my hips, waiting for Coach Davis to call my name for a team.

"Do you really think that's appropriate?"

Liam asked behind me, his volume soft enough that the sophomore standing beside me didn't hear.

His tone was veering toward asshole territory and his question pissed me off, so when I turned toward him, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about? I workout in a sports bra all the time."

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Liam scoffed. "There are paparazzi standing over there with their lenses trained on you and your lack of clothing.” I rolled my eyes, not even glancing to where I knew the paparazzi were stationed.

They were there every day and I’d mostly forgotten about them. After all, they were only there for Liam.

"No. They're trained on you. They wouldn't be here if you weren't here."

"It doesn't matter. Put your freaking shirt on, Kinsley."

Yes, he was technically my coach, but in that moment he was talking to me as Liam, not Coach Wilder, so I chose to test my limits.

"You know, I think I'll workout in my sports bra for the rest of the week." I 262/890

stretched my arms over my head and even he couldn't help his eyes from drifting down to my chest for a fraction of a second. Ha! Wait, did I want to be this girl? Using my body to get his attention? It's not like I had a choice.

The only way to get his attention at that point was to piss him off, so that's what I'd do. Very mature, I know.

"You're acting like a child," he hissed, his grey eyes flashing darker than usual.

I leaned in close and narrowed my eyes.

"Funny. When you were on top of me on Saturday you didn't think I was a child."

"Kinsley!" Coach Davis called, and I realized she'd been trying to get my attention for the past few minutes. "Listen up! You're on Tara's team. Let's go."

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I flashed Liam a sharp smirk before jogging to the center of the field to stand beside Tara, who was still scowling at me.

Whatever. I glanced back toward Liam. His hands were clasped together behind his head and he looked like he was about to punch something. I guess that was a good sign?

…

"Are you kidding? That's a GREAT sign!"

Becca cheered when we were alone in my room later.

"Remind me why I'm taking advice from you? You could be completely leading me astray."

Becca shook her head. "No, I assure you.

I have yet to have a relationship in real life, 264/890

but I've read lots of Cosmo and I used to take a ton of those quizzes about love."

"Wow... that's really reassuring. NOT."

Becca laughed then stated her case.

"Listen, yesterday he didn't even talk to you.

Today he sort of yelled at you– tomorrow, THE SKY IS THE LIMIT. You should really be thanking me right now."

She sat there staring at me as I moved around my room, picking up dirty clothes.

"What? What do you want?" I asked.

"A thank you," she said with a giant smile.

I laughed despite myself. "I'll thank you when he's waiting for me in my bed when I return home from practice."

Becca groaned. "Oh my god. I want tickets to that show."

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"Ew. You're sick."

"Oh, please. You'd want tickets to that show, too."

She was right. I wanted front row seats.