Match Pointe

by Amélie S. Duncan

“Pixie princess,” I heard Javier call out.

  That along with the noise of my teammates and Lance blocking my path when I went to see who it was had my nerves on alert. It didn’t take much for me to figure out that who he had was someone who would probably make me freak.

  I was right: Ace was bringing Scarlet in.

  She had her hair down and her delicate face was made up, including the cute blush she had on her cheeks, but that wasn’t the only thing about her that had my adrenaline pumping. She was wearing a cropped, fitted shirt, showing off her waist and tight jeans. She had us all salivating, including Ace, who stood there with his chest out. He tucked her hair behind her ear and she casually swatted him away. “Scarlet and I just finished her tour.”

  He’d taken Scarlet on one of our “tours?” Ace gave a thumbs-up, like she was an easy fuck, and got a few pats from the guys near them.

  I was across the room before I knew it, my hands pushing hard into Ace’s shoulders—so hard that it knocked him back into the tile wall behind them before Lance grabbed me and moved between us.

  Scarlet went to try to help him up, but he waved her away like he was all right. I wouldn’t actually hurt Ace, and that was pretty much why he started laughing in my face.

  “Fuck you, Ace,” I growled. “Let me go, Lance.”

  Ace tried to act all innocent. “What? I just gave her a tour.”

  We all knew about those “tours.” We’d all given tours, and they all involved a fuck or a quick blow job. Just the thought of him touching Scarlet had me seeing red.

  “Wrong answer.” I moved to push him again, but Lance got Erik to hold me still.

  “I don’t understand. Why are you upset?” Scarlet spoke up, bringing my attention to her. She had her full bottom lip poked out, and she was also rubbing her arm—something she did when she got nervous. “He offered me a tour and showed me around the stadium.”

  I scanned her from head to toe. She was adorably clueless. My jaw clenched, and I thought it better remain that way. What the hell was Ace thinking?

  I looked at Lance. “I’m just going to talk to her.”

  He moved with me over to where they stood, just in case I went after Ace.

  “I give you a ticket and you set up a date with Ace?” I growled.

  “A date?” Her voice went up an octave. She glanced at Ace and his brows knitted together.

  “Yeah,” he said to her. “I invited you to hang out.”

  “Oh, you said a tour,” she said softly, and he now looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

  Good.

  She turned toward me and jutted her chin out. “Even if this was a date, Tyler, what does it matter?”

  “Our game is about to start and you need to leave, Miss…?” Coach Frost said, reminding us he was there. “You look familiar. Are you from the ballet?”

  Scarlet turned a deep shade of red. I was going to let her squirm a little.

  “No one is to date any women in the New York Ballet,” Coach Frost said loudly.

  Stupid Ace went quiet like his little brain hadn’t thought that far ahead. He was lucky he was our goalie and we wouldn’t have that much time together in the game. I’d have to fucking deal with him later. I wasn’t going to leave her to explain on her own, just in case she got in trouble.

  “She’s a friend of my family,” I told him.

  “I’m not in the program,” she said quickly.

  Coach eyeballed her.

  I pointed to the exit. “And she’s leaving.”

  “He’s right. Thanks for the tour,” she mumbled to Ace then quickly rushed out the door.

  Coach Frost, not wanting to deal with this shit, just looked at Lance and gave him the nod to fill him in later. I headed out in pursuit of her. On my way, I heard Lance talking to Ace. “You shouldn’t have brought her in here. You knew she was Tyler’s friend.”

  Good on him. Ace was being an underhanded dick. I expected that shit from Javier, but not him.

  Rushing out of the locker room, I caught up to her by the elevator leading up to the skybox where her seat was.

  “Hold on, Princess Precious. I’m not done with you,” I called out. There were a few small groups of VIPs and corporate suits gathered along the path that surged forward to try to speak, but I kept on after her. When I reached her, I tapped on her shoulder. “Stop moving and talk to me.”

  She turned and stuck out her hip. “What do you want?” Her eyes shone and my chest tightened up. Had she done this to get my attention?

  You’ve fucking got it now, Princess.

  “I want to talk to you and answer your question. You dating my friends matters, Scarlet.”

  She glared at me and I imagined it was how angels looked when they were upset. “Fine. I won’t date your friends.”

  “Hey, Tyler, will you sign my shirt?” a female voice called out, but I didn’t look over.

  I just kept my gaze fixed on her. I moved closer and noticed she was trembling.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here with you.” I had to go get ready, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t leave her upset.

  “You’re only upset because I was with Ace,” she said. “Not because you want…just forget it.”

  I blew out a breath and placed my hands on her small shoulders. “Not because of Ace, because of you. You’re special. You don’t deserve to be treated like some chick to hook up with on a so-called tour. I won’t stand for it. Fuck it, you got me.”

  She blinked up at me and her brows rose. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll be your sex teacher,” I said in a voice just loud enough for her to hear.

  She threw her arms around me and I wrapped her up tight, my chest warming at how tightly she gripped me. She was so small and soft. I took a breath in, taking in her scent, some sweet floral stuff that smelled good—too good for Ace. Fuck.

  “I didn’t mean anything…just you turned me down and Ace offered to show me around. I didn’t know if I was ready to see you after what happened, but I came here anyway, Tyler,” she said against my chest. She was moving while she was hugging me, not realizing how hard she was making me by rubbing up against me. I had to get my other head back in the game.

  Easing her out of my arms, I said, “It’s over. Now you get your sexy little butt up to the skybox.” I called one of the assistants over to take care of her.

  “Wait up there and I’ll get you afterward, my precious,” I teased.

  She giggled. “Stop with the precious.”

  Ha. She liked it, and I did too, but it was game time and that was where my head needed to be.

  Jogging back to the locker room, I joined my teammates as we all did our run out on the field. June brought some hot weather, but I didn’t mind. I loved the heat, and our New York crowd was the best. They were already stomping and yelling out for us, and the buzz fed us out on the field.

  The Sounders striker won the toss over Javier in the circle at the start, and he chose to play into the sun so we’d have to face it when the sun lowered to our eye level during the second half, the sneaky bastard. I would’ve done the same.

  They kicked off the game and started sending passes to each other, hoping to tire us out running after the ball. It didn’t matter, though—our team was fit and ready.

  I glanced down the field toward Ace. He had me pumped up with that asshole move he’d pulled. He’d earned a beat-down from me, but the game started and I was off.

  Erik and Lance were already on their marks in midfield and pressed them on the ball, constantly snapping at their heels and making sure they knew they couldn’t dwell too long. My markers were trying to block me in, but I surprised myself by doing a jump I’d learned in ballet to get around the players. It worked. They only got a tug on the back of my shirt before I got away and over to where my teammates could see me open to send the ball over to me.

  Taking the ball down on my chest, I punted it forward in one move so I barely broke my stride.

  I saw Erik
to my side, and he was able to draw away one of their defenders, freeing up space for me to run. Still, I had two towering defenders in my way, and one of them was closing in on me—fast. As he got within a few yards of me, he dived into my path, trying to clear the ball, but a deft chip had me sailing over him.

  I was rapidly closing in on the eighteen-yard box where I could see Javier was tangled up, so I went farther in. That was when I was pushed hard from behind. I managed to avoid a face plant but did hit the ground on my side. I was all right, but would have a bruise to add to the rest. I made sure the ref saw the incident, yelling out as I went down, clutching my side as if I had been clobbered.

  That shit could have won me an Oscar, but all I cared about was making sure we got a penalty kick.

  The ref blew the whistle and pointed to the spot. Penalty.

  The crowd went wild and a medic team came rushing over to check me out. I was fine, but went through their checks anyway. I got up and didn’t put up a fuss about letting Javier do the penalty kick, hoping that would earn me a few brownie points with Coach Frost.

  Javier ran forward and brought his leg back to smack the ball, but he only ended up grazing it. His foot must have gotten caught on the grass, and he scuffed the ball straight into the keeper’s waiting arms. He grabbed at his boot and removed half the pitch from between his cleats then gave me a look like it was my fault. What a fucking ingrate. The keeper wasted no time in throwing the ball straight to his midfielder at the halfway line, and we were off and running again with no time to argue over who was the bigger asshole.

  The rest of the half was just as hectic with attempts on goal from both sides, but no one could find the back of the net. I was still pissed off at Javier as we walked off to the dressing room for our

  halftime pep talk from Coach Frost.

  “Support Javier, Tyler. Keep feeding him, make sure he gets the ball in a good position so we can score.”

  I glared at him. “I already gave him one and he fucked that up.”

  “Fuck you, Tyler,” Javier shot back.

  “You’ll do as you’re told,” Coach Frost yelled at me. “That’s your job.”

  Lance tapped my knee to signal for me not to bother. I didn’t care. Fuck him. I wasn’t going to spoon-feed Javier. I was there to play too. I knew how to score.

  When it was time to go back on, I was everywhere, taking on everyone, tackling, and getting possession back. Finally, I managed to find an opening in their watertight defense. I was through on goal, just the keeper to beat. As I ran closer, he decided I wasn’t going to get past him and made a wild lunge toward my feet to get the ball away, but I made sure to drag my foot closest him and down I went, arms flailing as I hit the ground again.

  Just before I hit the pitch, I heard the referee’s whistle and he pointed to the spot again—penalty. This time, though, I was taking it.

  Javier marched across to where I stood. He attempted to take the ball away from me, but I was having none of it.

  “You had your chance. This one’s mine,” I barked, walking straight past him.

  “Fuck you, man, you know who’s supposed to take them,” Javier bleated.

  I just kept walking and waved him off. I didn’t look over at Coach, as I could imagine him tearing me a new one because I was disobeying him and not letting his golden boy take it. The crowd’s noise filled my head as I placed the ball on the spot and paced back to ready myself. Watching the keeper, I noticed he was placing his weight on his left leg.

  As soon as the ref blew for the penalty to start, I jogged up and smacked it to the keeper’s right. The ball went straight into the open net.

  The crowd erupted, and as my teammates jumped on top of me, I caught a glimpse of Coach Frost celebrating to the fans, though I doubted I’d hear the end of it. Javier could go fuck himself—I didn’t care.

  The opposing team couldn’t recover and the end of the game came.

  I went with the team to our bench to celebrate the win. Coach Frost hit my back but immediately tapped Javier to follow him over to do the press.

  I clenched my jaw and kept it together for the fans who came down to congratulate us. Some of the women came up with hugs and kisses, and I couldn’t stop them all. I didn’t linger, though—Scarlet was waiting for me. Truthfully, I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for company—well, not the company I wanted to have with her. She needed me patient, and I was full of adrenaline. How was I going to handle her? She wasn’t some random woman to fuck and leave. Everything I was feeling had me thinking I should just take her home.

  Still, I rushed back through the tunnel then quickly showered and changed into what I’d brought with me: a tracksuit, T-shirt, and sneakers. Then I went up to the skybox where she was waiting. She was facing the elevator when I arrived, and her face lit up as she saw me. It knocked through the bad mood instantly.

  She ran over to where I stood, brimming with joy and excitement.

  “You were fantastic,” she gushed. “You’re amazing.” Her eyes twinkled, and everything else around me fell away.

  “YOU’RE CHEWING ON YOUR LIP,” Tyler pointed out in his car. “Something bothering you? Besides what we might do together?”

  “Might? You’ve changed your mind already?” I couldn’t hide the frustration in my voice, but I needed to remind myself that it was something he’d agreed to after seeing me with his friend Ace. I had sent Ace several texts apologizing, but had yet to receive a reply.

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind,” he said, breaking through my thoughts. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I glanced over at him and saw he had turned toward me in his seat. I warmed at the concern evident on his face. “I was worrying about Ace. I didn’t mean to lead him on.”

  “Fuck Ace.” He broke into laughter.

  “It’s not funny,” I grumbled.

  “Yes, it is. He shouldn’t have asked you out, or for a tour,” he quickly added before I could correct him. “I told them all not to mess with you or Zoey. He was being an asshole and deserved the embarrassment.”

  I felt puzzled. “Why did you tell them that?”

  “The same reason I didn’t know what to do about having sex with you,” he said. “Because I don’t want either of you to get hurt. None of us have or are looking for a relationship.” He went silent and I went with him, letting his words seep in.

  If I wanted to be honest with myself, if Tyler asked to date me, I’d be over the moon with happiness. Deep down, I had my own doubts it would last, with all the time dance practice and performing took from me. Still, I was certain being with him, even for a short time, would be well worth it. Therefore, I replied with as much conviction as I could. “I understand you don’t want a relationship with me. I’m doing this because I want to. I won’t be hurt when you leave.” I didn’t want to think too hard about if I could honestly keep the promises I was making to him.

  He didn’t say anything, just started the car and drove on. After a few minutes, I looked over at him. He appeared lost in thought, though he was making lane changes. I wanted us to keep talking. “How should we start? Will we go to your bedroom?”

  “You’re ready to take your clothes off in front of me and let me touch you all over?” he asked.

  I sucked in air and held it. God. If I said not yet, would he back out?

  He answered me like he’d read my mind. “No, you’re not. I think it’ll be good if you got used to me. So, you’ll relax. Sex feels better when you’re relaxed. We’ll go slow. No rush.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “God, don’t thank me,” he groaned. “I’m an asshole for agreeing to do this with you.” Before I could disagree, he turned on and fiddled with the radio. We listened to music, and he drove us to his place in Tribeca. There he stopped at one of the converted factory buildings and went around it until he reached the underground garage and parked.

  His home was beautiful with a wall of windows, exposed brick walls, and vaulted ceilings.
It was open with everything in the one rectangular-shaped room. The furnishings were what I’d call bachelor chic—leather couches with decorative tables and artwork, a huge flat-screen television on the wall, and a full bar off the dining area that had a staircase in the middle.

  I followed him into the kitchen where he took out a couple of cooked steaks and placed them in the microwave. He finished up his cooking with a Tupperware of salad he took out of the refrigerator.

  “I didn’t expect we’d start with a meal,” I teased, helping with the place settings.

  “We can watch a movie later,” he offered.

  I glanced over at him and found he was staring my way.

  “Sure, if it’s not too late. I have practice early tomorrow.”

  “Me too,” he said. “Maybe just one, anything but romance.”

  I giggled. “I actually don’t watch many romance movies. I prefer drama and action. My current favorite is John Wick. The way the fight scenes are coordinated”—I gestured a little with my hand—“it’s like a synchronized dance.”

  “Yeah, I guess I can see that,” he replied, grinning. “But for now, we’ll eat. I’m starved after a match. I don’t do anything sexual if I’m hungry—I’ll correct that: nothing you are ready for.”

  I smirked. “Oh, and what is it I’m ready for?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders and gave me a grin that caused a flutter in my chest. “That’s for me to find out. I mean, if you’ve done a few things sexually and liked it, I can do it too, but better.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No need to brag. I don’t have much to compare you with. I’ve only dated a few guys and we just made out.”

  “Making out is different for different people,” he said, cutting up his food. “I mean, for me, making out is kissing and touching each other’s bodies until we come. That’s lips, mouth, and hands. You do that, Ms. Ricci?”

  I covered my face. “Are you interrogating me?”

  “No, I just want to know you. I’m the last person to judge what you’ve done, and there’s nothing wrong with doing it. I don’t want to know all the details, I just want to know what you like,” he said, tugging my hands down.