Out of Play: A Sports Romance (Love in the Arena Book 2)

by Tirrell, Kayla

  “He didn’t hurt me like the others. It was more comically bad than anything else.” She laughed to herself. “He wouldn’t stop talking about himself. When my car battery died, he left me stranded at the restaurant with the bill. Thankfully, Finn was able to rescue me. He’s the only one I can always count on to be there.”

  Grant fought to keep his expression neutral, but just beneath the surface his blood was boiling. Em trusted her brother even though he was just as bad as the other guys, not that Grant could tell her that. It would crush her to know that Finn had been keeping secrets of his own and controlling her life.

  “Which brings me to you,” Em said, pulling him from his quiet rage. “I’ve been struggling with what to think about you, Grant. I’ve been afraid to admit that I like you because I don’t want to get hurt again.”

  Of course, she was hesitant to open herself up to him. All she’d known were jerks, but she had to see that he was different. “I would never hurt you like that.”

  “You say that now, but what happens when you go back to Kansas City or another team recruits you or the EPL expresses interest? You’re a rookie with your entire career ahead of you.” She looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

  Grant leaned back against the futon and covered his face with his hands. He let out a long breath. She was right. He didn’t want to admit it because he really liked her and would never hurt her intentionally, but there was so much uncertainty in his future.

  He was still injured and didn’t know when he would be able to play soccer again. If he didn’t get enough time with the team, he wasn’t sure if the Storm would sign him on for another season. Not only that, when the season was over, he planned to go home to Kansas City.

  He might not be like Travis, Mark, or even Damien—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t break her heart. He never wanted to do that to her. She didn’t deserve it. He needed to end things before they went any further.

  “You’re right.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  Apparently, it wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. Trust me, I don’t like it either. He shook his head. “I’m going back to Kansas City in the spring when the season is over. I don’t know if I’ll be back. A long-distance relationship wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  Her eyes glistened again, and Grant felt like a real jerk knowing he was the one who put those tears there this time. Now I’m just another guy in the long list of people who hurt you.

  Em opened her mouth like she was going to say something, and Grant knew he didn’t have the resolve to fight against her if she suggested they try anyway. If she showed even a hint of wanting to be with him, in a heartbeat he would pull her against him, kiss her, and beg her not to go.

  But then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Goodbye, Grant.”

  Then she got up and walked out the front door without another word or even a glance back.

  Emmeline

  For the second time that day, Em was crying in her car. And the worst part? There wasn’t anyone left that she could talk to about it. Finn was in the middle of playing a soccer game she hadn’t watched a minute of because she was too busy making out with Grant and then getting her heart broken.

  What was it about her that said, “please break my heart into a million pieces?”

  When she’d said that thing about him having so many options, she didn’t think he was going to agree—not based on the way he’d pursued her the last few weeks.

  Don’t act surprised. Your rule exists for a reason.

  She’d thought he was different. She’d thought he’d fight for her—especially when she’d shared things with him that she hadn’t shared with anyone else.

  Well, anyone other than Frida. Em was newly frustrated. Why did her best friend’s art teacher conference have to be the same weekend as her brother’s away game? The timing couldn’t have been worse.

  Em wiped furiously at her cheeks, again, and got out of her car. Her current plan consisted of trying to catch the last half of the game. It wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but she hoped seeing her brother—even from 2,500 miles away—would make her feel better.

  Her feet dragged as she walked up the flight of stairs to her second-story apartment. With a sigh, she threw her keys on the small table by her front door and went to her kitchen to look for something to eat.

  Her kitchen was smaller than the one at the team house, but at least it had more personality. There were pictures on the refrigerator, and her copy of Pioneer Woman Cooks was still open to the recipe for chicken pot pie that she’d made two nights ago. Too bad there wasn’t any left. She could really use the comfort food instead of whatever frozen meal awaited her.

  She tried not to think about the tacos she left behind as the aroma of “chicken fettuccine” filled the air. Or the way Grant had literally moaned when he took his first bite.

  I hope he chokes on them.

  After she finished nuking her meal into oblivion, she grabbed the small tray of food and went out to her living room. She pulled up the game and leaned back against her couch. She’d missed the first half, but at least she’d get to watch some of the game.

  The Storm was down two goals as they started the third quarter. Em knew that had to be driving her brother crazy. Even though there were five other players on the field, he saw every ball that got past him as a way he let the team down.

  One of the forwards from Oregon took a shot on goal. When Finn blocked it, Em jumped up in her seat. It was a great save. The camera lingered on where Finn pumped his fist in victory just before he barked out orders to other players.

  As Em watched the game and finished her dinner, she realized that this was exactly what she needed. Even though she was alone in her apartment, there was some normalcy to watching her brother and the rest of the guys play. Silas made two back-to-back goals making it a tie game at the end of the third quarter.

  The two teams were evenly matched, making it an exciting game to watch. So exciting, in fact, that she only thought about Grant twice in that time and only peeked at his Instagram once. Even though they weren’t officially dating, it stung like a breakup. It would take time for her to get completely over him. She knew that she couldn’t just turn on a soccer game and pretend like none of that night, or the weeks leading up to it, had ever happened.

  The Storm called a time out at the start of the fourth quarter. While the ball was out of play, the camera went to different people in the crowd. Kids dressed in Oregon colors who waved. Couples who gave each other chaste kisses when they realized they were on the giant screen in the arena. Then a lone fan sitting by herself in a Storm jersey that looked awfully familiar.

  Wait. Was that...Frida?

  It couldn’t be. She was at a teacher’s convention that weekend. In Alabama. Or at least that’s what Frida had told her before she left. Em leaned forward to get a better look at the girl on the screen. She was looking down at the field, blissfully unaware that the camera was on her.

  It was Frida—and she was wearing the limited-edition jersey that Em had spent a fortune on.

  Em turned off the TV and started pacing back and forth in her living room. Her best friend had flown all the way to Oregon to watch a Storm game without her. What was worse, she had lied about it.

  Em tried to think of the reasons Frida would go. As far as she knew, Frida wasn’t even that big of an MASL fan. She hadn’t started going to games until recently.

  She sat back down and pulled out her phone. Her hands shook as she texted Frida and asked her how the conference was.

  Her response came just a moment later. It’s okay. Boring.

  Em squeezed her hands into small fists. Was everyone she cared about going to disappoint her tonight?

  First it was Grant with their pseudo-breakup. Then, Frida had lied about where she was. The only person who hadn’t betrayed her was Finn.

  Finn.

  All the air swooshed from Em’s lungs as
the realization hit her. Frida was there to see Finn play. She was sure of it. And they’d been keeping it a secret. Em couldn’t believe they’d been lying to her. She wondered what else she didn’t know.

  Her fingers flew across the screen. How long have you two been dating?

  This time Frida took much longer to respond. Em’s finger tapped impatiently on her thigh as she waited for an answer. Eventually it came.

  How did you know?

  So, it was true. Seeing the words hit hard even though she was sure her suspicions were right. How long? She asked again.

  Frida’s response came faster this time. Two months. I wanted to tell you, but Finn thought we should wait.

  Two months? That was a long time to keep a secret, and Em only knew her best friend and brother were dating because of an Oregon cameraman with a sense of humor.

  She wanted to cry, but she’d already shed enough tears that day. Em powered down her phone, turned the TV off, and went to bed—though it was several hours before sleep finally overpowered her.

  Grant

  Grant walked into Big Results, alone.

  He could now walk without his crutches or a limp, but he still had another week until his doctor and the Storm’s athletic trainer would let him do regular workouts with the rest of the team.

  Not that he wanted to see the rest of the team after what had happened.

  Since the scene in the locker room, Grant hadn’t had more than a passing “hello” with his roommates. Grant tried to leave the team house just before his roommates got back from Big Results. That way he wouldn’t see them at home. And by the time he got to the gym, they’d all cleared out. It had been working out perfectly.

  Cool air hit him as he entered the large building. He might not have been allowed to workout as hard as he wanted to, but he could still focus on his core and upper body—as well as run through the exercises he’d been given to strengthen his ankle and promote faster healing.

  Grant didn’t put any unnecessary strain on his foot other than when he’d blocked the ball for Em. He followed doctor’s orders to a tee in hopes of getting back to the game sooner, but now he wondered if that was what he really wanted. Of course he wanted to play. Soccer was his life. But everything that happened with Finn tainted the game for him.

  Grant lifted some weights from the rack and started doing bicep curls in front of the mirrored wall. He was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn’t notice Bastian until he’d finished his first rep.

  The defender crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re a hard guy to get a hold of.”

  Grant didn’t bother holding back his groan. “What are you doing here?”

  Bastian took a long drink from his water bottle. “I thought I’d spend some time working on my arms.”

  Grant highly doubted that. He set the weights back on the rack. “Why are you really here?”

  Bastian released a long sigh. He jerked his head toward the front of the gym. There was a small in-house café with several small tables in front of it. “Wanna sit for a minute? Get a smoothie?”

  He’d come to workout and just walked through the door. Sitting and having a drink with Bastian was the last thing he wanted to do. He narrowed his eyes. “Not really.”

  Bastian surprised him by laughing. “I’m not here to fight with you, Grant. I just want to talk.”

  Grant lifted his hands. “What is there to talk about?”

  Bastian looked down at Grant’s feet. “Your ankle?”

  “Still sprained.”

  “Finn?”

  “Still a jerk.”

  “Look.” Bastian shook his head. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

  Grant took a step toward him. “Aren’t you though? Maybe not to me, but you and everyone else on the team want to all pretend like what Finn is doing to Em is okay. I question it and end up on the receiving end of his right-hook.”

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  Grant’s blood was boiling. He didn’t want Bastian’s apology. He wanted everyone to stop letting Finn manipulate Em. “Maybe you guys don’t see it because you’ve been playing together for so long, but this whole thing is messed up.”

  “I—”

  “And based on what you told me that first night at City Bar, it’s not the first time Finn has let his temper get the best of him. No one is going to stand up to him, so why don’t you just say what you came here to say.”

  Bastian rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. I came here to find out if you’re still talking to Em. She’s been ignoring Finn, and he thinks it’s because you guys are dating.”

  Finn again. Grant’s answering laugh was cruel. “If that’s the case, then why doesn’t he ask me about it?”

  “Because we won’t let him. Vinny has been running interference so that he doesn’t show up to your house.”

  Grant couldn’t believe the same guy who had delighted in Grant and Finn’s fight was now trying to prevent another from happening. “Really?” he asked.

  “No one wants this kind of conflict on the team. It shows up on the field.”

  “I’m not even on the field,” he yelled, drawing the attention of some people using the machines. Soon, he’d be stealing Vinny’s nickname for his explosive attitude.

  Grant smiled and lifted his hand in a small, apologetic wave. He and Bastian walked away from the equipment, so they were no longer in full sight of everyone.

  After a beat of silence, Bastian spoke. “I know it’s gotta be tough having an injury your first year, but you’ll be out there playing again in another week or two. When that happens, we need to be united so that we can win. Not fighting over some girl.”

  “Some girl? Em is not just some girl. She’s amazing.”

  Bastian’s eyes went wide. “And you’re gonna stick to the ‘not dating’ story?”

  Grant shook his head. “We’re not.”

  Though I wish we were.

  “Then why isn’t Em talking to her brother?”

  “Sounds like a question her brother needs to ask her. I haven’t seen her since—” He stopped short not wanting to tell Bastian about the night they kissed. That was a special moment between just the two of them, even if it ended in heartbreak for them both.

  “Since?”

  Grant shook his head. “Since the night she walked out on me.”

  There. That wasn’t technically a lie. She’d walked out twice now. The first time had been in front of the entire team, and Bastian smiled sympathetically, not questioning it further.

  “Can I workout now? Or is there any other high school drama that needs to be addressed?”

  Bastian’s face fell. “No, that was it.”

  Grant instantly felt bad for snapping at him. As Bastian had said earlier, he wasn’t the bad guy. Finn was the one ruining everyone’s lives with his overprotectiveness of Em. Grant was so tired of the senselessness of it all.

  So much so, that he might have ended things with Em if they weren’t already over.

  Liar.

  “Good. Because I’ve gotta get back to my workout.”

  “Right.” Bastian nodded. “We’re all looking forward to you coming back.”

  Grant didn’t say anything before he turned and walked back to the weight room where he spent the next hour trying—and failing—not to think about Em.

  Later that day, after Grant had gotten home and showered, he spent some time looking at master’s programs.

  His injury had given him a lot to think about. He would be able to play again soon, just as Bastian had said, but Grant had to start thinking seriously about what his exit strategy was. He wouldn’t be able to play forever—eventually he’d get too old, too slow. Or even worse, there was always the possibility of another injury, one that put him out permanently.

  Grant needed to know that he’d be able to get a nine-to-five when that happened.

  Since he wasn’t ready to put on a suit and tie just yet, he figured furthering his education in the meantime was a good pl
ace to put his energy. Now that Em was out of the picture, he could focus on soccer, build his online brand, and go to school.

  With so much on his plate, he wouldn’t have time to think about how he’d missed out on something special with Em.

  As he researched different schools, he came across USF. Only an hour from Waterfront, the university boasted several flexible schedules to get your master’s. He could do a combination of summer classes and online classes that fit around soccer season.

  If he went to school there, he could stay in Florida.

  Why are you doing this to yourself?

  It was a stupid thing to do, but applying didn’t mean that he was committed to going there. And going there didn’t mean that he had to stay in Waterfront. He could always move to Tampa. But even if he did stay in town, that didn’t mean he was trying to find a way to make things happen with Em.

  Or was he?

  The pain of calling things off with her was too fresh in his mind for him to think clearly. He knew that. Which was why after he finished his expedited application for the school, he applied for three more—all in the Midwest, all close to home.

  Though Kansas City was feeling less and less like home the more time he spent in Florida.

  Emmeline

  “You can’t ignore me forever,” Frida said, storming into Em’s empty classroom after school on Wednesday.

  After using two personal days earlier in the week, Em was back at school—and completely behind. The sub that had filled in for her hadn’t used any of the lesson plans she’d left. Now she was playing catch up and really didn’t have the energy to deal with Frida. She knew she should have taken everything home to avoid this exact moment. Or maybe she subconsciously knew that they needed to talk, and that was why she had stayed.

  “I wasn’t ignoring you.” Em’s eyes were trained on a stack of papers she needed to grade.

  “Really?” Frida pulled one of the student’s chairs over to Em’s desk and sat down. “Because I’ve called and texted with no response. I even showed up at your apartment and knocked on the door for thirty minutes with no answer before finally leaving.”