For the Win

by Sara Rider

  “It’s Billy! Not Bobby,” the kid called back, though his giant, proud smile stayed glued to his face. He ran up to her for a high five.

  Dear Lord, eight hours later and she still couldn’t learn fifteen kids’ names. How would she get through the week? She glanced over to the far end of the field, where Gabe and Zazu were working with Team Monkey. Well, “working” was apparently a relative term. Their group was playing tag. Still! She hadn’t seen them run a drill the entire day. How were the kids supposed to learn anything if they weren’t even pretending to touch a soccer ball? Just when she was starting to gain a grudging respect for Havelak, he proved himself to be an ass all over again.

  She and Johnny led the kids through a cooldown and stretch, and then waited until every last kid was picked up before finally plopping to the ground where the other coaches had gathered. Lainey couldn’t believe how exhausting it was to hang out with adorable but rambunctious children all day. Her brain was still buzzing from the constant screaming and shrieking emanating from the camp participants well after they were all gone.

  GABE WATCHED LAINEY LAUGH at something Johnny said as they walked over to the short stack of bleachers where he and the rest of the instructors were hanging out. He glared at Johnny, reminding him to cut the crass talk in Tessa’s presence. Johnny saluted back to Gabe, indicating he’d behave. Gabe had already sent Aiden to work at the second site across town. Judging by Lainey’s breezy reactions to Johnny’s immature jokes and Tessa’s longing gazes in his direction, it was looking like the nineteen-year-old boy wonder might have to be relocated as well.

  Gabe smiled at Lainey, hoping to get off on a better foot now that the first day of camp had passed without any misunderstandings or explosive confrontations. He’d considered pairing the enigmatic striker with himself for the day, but he didn’t want the camp kids to suffer if things didn’t go as planned. “Hey—”

  She walked right past him without any acknowledgment and stopped in front of Tessa with her hands on her hips. “I hear you’re a damn good center forward,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Tessa glanced at Gabe, then back at Lainey. “Uh . . . yeah. But I’m not as good as you.”

  “From what Gabe says, it sounds like you could be. We should kick a ball around sometime. You could show me your shot.”

  “Oh my god! That would be so amazing! Do you think you could teach me how to do a diving header? Like the one you did at the World Cup?”

  A strange look passed over Lainey’s face.

  “Tessa, Ms. Lukas is a busy woman,” Gabe warned his sister.

  “No problem. I can show you right now,” Lainey said firmly. “The technique is easy to learn. The hard part is finding a way through your fear. The only thing that can do that is absolute hunger for the goal. You have to want it so badly that nothing will get in your way.” Lainey fished a ball from the large net bag she’d been carrying and tossed it from hand to hand.

  “Go on,” Gabe said after seeing the excitement light up like a fire in his sister’s eyes. “I’ll give you a ride home and tell Pop to let Mama know you’ll be late for dinner.”

  Over the next half hour, Gabe watched his sister progress from heading a ball on her knees to flinging herself from a squatting position while the sun set in a shimmering haze of blue and orange behind them. As much as he wished he were the one his little sister idolized, he could see why Lainey was her hero. They were equally tenacious, fearless, and strong-willed.

  What Gabe couldn’t understand was why Lainey insisted on giving him the cold shoulder when all he’d ever done was try to kill her with kindness and charm. Sure, Lainey was socially awkward and reserved, but the only person she seemed to have any real issues with was him. It made no sense. Everyone liked Gabe.

  “Hey, Tessa, I’ll give you twenty bucks if you load up the van for me,” he said to his sister, who, in her ecstatic mood, was more than eager to help out.

  Lainey sat a few feet from Gabe on the hard metal bench and traded her cleats for flip-flops. She pulled a butter knife from her bag and used it to delicately pry the clumps of dried mud from the studs. The silence between the two of them was more deafening than the chaotic, gleeful screaming of sixty children that had filled the field only an hour ago.

  “Here, let me do that,” he said, hand reaching for her cleats. “I lost the bet, remember?”

  “I wasn’t really going to hold you to it,” she said, but handed the shoe over anyway.

  “That was real nice of you, by the way,” he ventured. “Tessa idolizes you.”

  “Your sister has talent. She makes it easy to teach her,” Lainey said nonchalantly, attention still fixed on the mud caked to her shoes.

  Fed up, Gabe slid down the bench until he was deep into her personal space. “Okay, Lukas. Spit it out.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You had a fantastic time today. You’ve never smiled as much as you did when all those kids were around. I’ve proven to you I’m not a bad guy. So why are you treating me like I’m lower than the dirt on your shoes?”

  Lainey calmly placed her tightly balled fists in her lap and turned toward him. The end-of-day chill seeped into the air and her breath was warm against his skin. The more she pissed him off, the more he wanted to lay her down the bleachers and kiss the ever-living daylights out of her.

  “Tag,” she said after letting out a deep breath. “Just when I’m starting to think you’re a great guy, running these amazing camps, I look over and see you playing tag for hours while the rest of us are busting our asses trying to teach these kids how to play soccer.”

  Gabe laughed. “That’s what’s bothering you? Look, not everything is so black-and-white.”

  “What’s the point in running a soccer camp if you aren’t going to teach the kids anything about soccer?”

  “Believe it or not, soccer doesn’t have to be all about winning.” She gave him an incredulous look, but he continued anyway. “Some of these kids come here because they love soccer and learning from their heroes is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Those are the kids I assigned to your group. Some come here because they think it’ll be fun, and the learning part is optional. Those are the kids I assigned to Tessa and Pop’s group. And then there are the kids that come because their parents realize that sending their kids to a fancy, free soccer camp is much cheaper than taking time off work or hiring a sitter during school breaks. They don’t really want to be here and couldn’t care less about the sport. Those are the kids in my group.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say,” Lainey muttered, sliding away from Gabe on the hard bench.

  “Maybe, but it’s true. And there’s nothing wrong with that, either. Like I said, soccer isn’t always about winning or being the best.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “Sometimes it’s just about having fun. Or making friends. Or, hell, sometimes it’s about finding a safe space to spend a few hours when these kids would otherwise be hanging out on the street.”

  “You can’t just pigeonhole them like that. We’re talking about children.” Lainey took her shoes back and stuffed them into her bag. She slid her flip-flops on, then rose. Gabe stood up as well, not enjoying the feeling of having Lainey look down on him.

  “Exactly. Children deserve to be carefree and safe. That’s what we give them. Anything else they learn is gravy.” He wasn’t willing to back down from this argument, no matter how much he wanted to finally get on Lainey’s good side. The kids at his camp meant everything to him, and he’d defend their right to have fun no matter what.

  “Don’t you think you’re selling them short? Letting them sink to your lowered expectations?” She crossed her arms beneath her chest. Given the serious nature of their conversation, Gabe tried to keep his eyes level with hers. He really did. But he couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at her proffered breasts. Lainey noticed and uncrossed her
arms with a huff.

  “Tell you what, Lukas. I’ll trade groups with you tomorrow. You can put your theory to the test.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me,” she responded before walking away with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Hey, Lukas!” Gabe waited for her to turn around. When she did, he gave her his most seductive smile. “So you were starting to think I’m great, huh?”

  “Argh!” She threw her arms up in the air and spun around.

  Gabe chuckled as he watched her flounce toward the parking lot. He probably shouldn’t enjoy teasing her as much as he did, but something about the woman sent his competitive streak into overdrive. Whether she knew it or not, Lainey Lukas was in for the challenge of her life tomorrow.

  TWENTY-SIX MINUTES AND thirty-four seconds. That’s how long Lainey lasted with the rowdy youngsters, Gabe noted gleefully after checking his watch. She walked over to the far byline where Gabe and Johnny were calling out instructions, with a small girl wearing a crown of dandelions clutched tightly around her neck.

  “Giving up already, Lukas?”

  “Tears! You never said anything about tears,” she said, rubbing the crying child’s back, which only seemed to make her wail harder.

  “What’s the matter, Ava?”

  The girl sniffed and rubbed her nose on the shoulder of Lainey’s long-sleeve white shirt. “Mason says princesses can’t play soccer.”

  Gabe pulled the girl from Lainey’s arms and looked her in the eyes. “Well, Mason is wrong,” he said solemnly. “Princesses can do anything they like. That’s the fun of being a princess.”

  “So I can do cartwheels instead of playing soccer if I want to?” she asked, earnestness bursting from her big brown eyes.

  “Absolutely,” Gabe said, lowering the girl to the ground. “In fact, I’ll come do some with you in a few minutes. Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She took off like a bullet. “Maaaaaasooooon! I told you soooooooo!”

  Gabe smiled glibly at Lainey. “See, I—”

  “If you say ‘I told you so,’ I’m going to junk punch you,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  “I was going to say I don’t think you should feel bad about failing so spectacularly with the misfits. You’re an amazing coach with the kids who are motivated to learn.” She raised her eyebrows. “Fine, I was going to say I told you so. But I still think you’re doing a good job.”

  Not that he was going to admit it to her, but a couple of the kids in his new group whined about not having Lainey coaching them that morning. Then again, she could be lobbing rocks at the kids and he’d still be thrilled she was here. Tessa was so happy to work with Lainey that she’d actually talked with him on the ride home last night, instead of giving him her usual silent treatment. Heck, for that gift, he would’ve hugged Lainey and kissed her smack on the mouth if he didn’t think she’d actually junk punch him for it.

  Instead of acting on his impulses, he reassigned Lainey to work with Johnny and the advanced kids for the rest of the week. At the end of each day, Gabe dutifully cleaned Lainey’s cleats while she worked with Tessa to perfect her diving header. He made sure to be on his best behavior, and by the end of the week, he and Lainey had managed to achieve a high level of civility in all their interactions. No more tantrums, no more arguments, no more name-calling. He appreciated that she didn’t seem to be holding on to quite as much disdain for him as before, yet it was all very . . . dull. He wanted more than just benign tolerance from her. He wanted to feel that spark ignited between them again. Unfortunately, there was only one way to do it.

  He was going to have to piss her off in a major way.

  10

  What’s my secret for scoring so many goals? You need to get inside the goalkeeper’s head. Just when she thinks you’re going to go left, make her doubt herself and wonder if you’re going right. And then blast the ball into the net before she has a chance to make up her mind.

  —Lainey Lukas’s advice to the Seattle Lil’ Kickers Recreational Soccer league players (six-and-under division)

  IT HAD BEEN ONE of the best weeks of Lainey’s life. Working with the kids and all their unbridled energy had reinvigorated her. Each kid was given a participation ribbon at the end of the week. Lainey couldn’t imagine being happy with a ribbon that didn’t have a big, gleaming “1st” emblazoned on it, but these kids seemed to be thrilled with any sort of recognition. It was infectious. She didn’t remember the last time she wasn’t focused on winning or on pushing her limits to the extreme. But just following Gabe’s motto of making sure the kids had the best week of their lives was in itself a great reward.

  Lainey waved good-bye to Tessa, who was earning another twenty bucks for dragging the ball bags to Gabe’s van. As with every other day that week, Gabe was sitting alone on the bleachers long after everyone else had gone home. She rubbed her arms, telling herself the frisson she felt was from the gray clouds creeping over the horizon and the threatening rain, not from the man who’d cleaned the mud from her cleats and was currently wiping them down with polish.

  Gabe held up the gleaming black leather shoes for approval as she approached. “You surprised me with how well you did with the kids this week.”

  “Well . . . thank you,” Lainey said tentatively as soft droplets of rain made their escape from the clouds. “I’m willing to admit that you were right. Having fun can be just as important as winning. And thanks again for cleaning my cleats. You really didn’t have to.” She’d had no intention of holding him to that bet, seeing as the Falcons didn’t exactly win the cook-off, thanks to her aunt and his mother. But who was she to say no to the luxury of watching Gabe Havelak act like her servant?

  “Of course I did. The bet was whoever lost the cook-off has to pay up.” The gleam in his eye and mischievous grin set Lainey on edge. While they’d been cordial to each other all week, he was being a little too nice for comfort right now.

  “I’ll just take those from you now. It’s getting late.” She reached a hand out for her shoes.

  Gabe grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against his body. She looked into his hungry blue eyes and gulped. He licked his thick, lush lips. Her skin felt scorching hot, as though each drop of rain sizzled as it connected.

  “Like I said, we made a deal that whoever loses has to pay up,” he said in a hushed, seductive voice that even someone as inexperienced as Lainey knew meant he had sex on the brain. A tingling, surreal warmth wrapped itself around her lungs, tightening until she felt like she was imploding. “And technically, we both lost.”

  Before Lainey had time to react, he slipped his hand along her nape and brushed his lips against hers.

  His lips were soft and warm, and he smelled irresistibly good. That was the only excuse she had for allowing him to deepen the kiss and run his hand down her back until his fingers were grazing the top of her butt. When his tongue delved past her lips, she came to her senses and pulled back, still caught in his embrace.

  She tried to raise her wrist, but he caught it instantly. “Don’t even dream of slapping me, sweetheart. You enjoyed that just as much as I did,” he said with a dreamy expression that suggested he wouldn’t be opposed to another round.

  “Fine.” She twisted her wrist to pinch the ticklish spot on the side of his waist. Considering the man had the chiseled body of a Greek statue, it was quite the feat.

  He yelped and let her go, but kept the smile on his face. Lainey grabbed her cleats and stuffed them into her soccer bag. She stormed off toward the adjacent lot where she’d parked her piece of shit ’98 Civic, pretending all the while that her legs hadn’t melted away from the heat of their kiss.

  “So I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight for the charity dinner?” he called out to her just as she slipped her key into the driver’s-side door.

  She rolled her eyes and watched him amble over to his van, w
here Tessa was waiting. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “It’s a date!” he called back.

  “It’s not a—” she called back, but Gabe had already jumped into his van and pulled out of the stall. “Date.” Nope, not a date. Not at all.

  11

  What’s my beauty routine? Scoring goals so breathtakingly gorgeous that no one gives a shit what I look like.

  —Lainey Lukas, quoted in Sport Fitness Magazine

  LAINEY LOATHED ASKING ANYONE for help, but she nevertheless found herself typing those very words into her phone. With a deep breath, she hit the send button. And then waited.

  Twenty-five minutes later, a demanding knock rapped at her thin plywood door. “Open up. Your fairy slut-mother is here!”

  Lainey unlocked the dead bolt and swung open her door before Jaime could say anything else that would further degrade her reputation with her nosy neighbors.

  Jaime was standing there with her hip cocked, a smirk on her face, and a bunch of garment bags tucked under her arm. “Nice outfit. Why don’t you just wear that?” she said, pointing to the ratty blue bathrobe Lainey was wearing, complete with a white towel wrapped around her hair.

  She thrust the bags at Lainey, marched straight into the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge door. “No coolers? I told you I work much better after a drink or two.”

  “Let’s just get this over with,” Lainey said, slumping onto the couch. She really hoped she wouldn’t regret this. The charity gala was in an hour, and she had nothing to wear. She usually borrowed clothes from Aunt Marnie when she needed to look respectable, but none of her aunt’s short-sleeve floral polyester dresses were appropriate for a formal gala.

  “Did you at least remember to shave your armpits?” Jaime asked, crossing her arms and looking down at Lainey with doubt.