For the Win

by Sara Rider

  His grin returned. “Lainey Lukas, you’re the only woman I want. For the next three weeks, you’re my girlfriend.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  Gabe cleared his throat. “Correction. For the next three weeks, I will be known as Lainey Lukas’s boyfriend. Better?”

  She nodded.

  He peeled her tank top up, exposing her breasts. With his tongue, he traced her nipple while his hand kneaded her other breast. She moaned as he flicked and sucked. The pleasure was almost unbearable. She writhed under him, wanting more.

  He trailed kisses down her belly, stopping at her navel. “As your boyfriend, I am asking you to come with me tonight to my family dinner. Mama personally requested I bring you.”

  The panic that would’ve overwhelmed her fizzled as his hand slipped between her thighs.

  “Just think about it.” He slicked her wetness along her folds, dabbing her clit.

  “Maybe,” she said shakily. “I need to finish my workout.”

  He yanked her pants off and threw one of her legs over his shoulder.

  “I’m prepared to give you the workout of your life right now.” He licked her inner thigh, driving her crazy with desire.

  “Fine, but only if you agree to take me salsa dancing next week.”

  “You got it, babe.”

  He proceeded to show her just how grateful he was with his tongue.

  18

  Like every sport, curses are nothing new to the soccer world. Everyone knows the story of the witch doctor who robbed Socceroos of World Cup qualification for more than thirty years. And who could forget the Romani hexes on Birmingham and Derby County FC? But none is as legendary or as brutal as the curse of Cricket Field.

  —Behind the Surge: A Documentary of Seattle’s First Professional Soccer Team

  GABE HELD LAINEY’S HAND tightly as they approached his parents’ house, afraid she’d turn tail and run at the last minute. He worried he might be pushing too fast. Man, what was he thinking earlier? Breaking out the l-word in the middle of getting nasty was something he thought only the most desperate fools did. Not a guy like Gabe, who’d never even uttered the word to a woman other than his mother and sister before.

  There was really only one explanation. He was in deep with Lainey. This wasn’t simply attraction or lustful curiosity. This was hold-a-stereo-outside-of-her-window-and-declare-his-emotions. This was grow-old-on-a-porch-swing-together. This was potential-to-destroy-every-last-shred-of-his-shriveled-heart-and-dignity-if-things-go-south. Lainey was barely able to come to terms with the idea of being in a relationship with him, much less think about where they’d be two days from now. This was the kind of thing that would send a woman like her running for the hills.

  He was so screwed.

  She sighed as they walked up the steps to the front door. Warm, golden rays of sun filled the crisp air.

  “It’ll be fine. My family already thinks you’re great,” he said in his most reassuring voice.

  “Are you sure? What if they see me as your enemy? Are they superstitious? Maybe they’re still mad at me for pouring a rum and Coke on your head.”

  Standing at the stoop, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her into a bear hug.

  “Don’t worry. If anything, they blame me for doing the same to you. I was raised to know better than to treat a lady that way.”

  “I don’t want to be treated like a lady. I want to be treated as an equal.”

  “Which is why I dumped a drink on your head.”

  She scowled. It was so cute his heart could barely take it, so he leaned in and planted a featherlight kiss on her lips that she was more than willing to return. Her hands reached around to his butt, digging into the back pockets of his jeans, while her tongue deepened the kiss. He glided a hand to the back of her head and reached behind him with the other to open the front door.

  “Surprise!”

  Gabe and Lainey stumbled apart to see dozens of faces with shocked stares beneath conical party hats, streamers hanging from the ceilings, and a “Happy Birthday” sign tacked to the wall.

  “How did you know?” Lainey whispered to him amid the heavy silence, face crimson red.

  “Know what?” he whispered back.

  The partygoers resumed their loud chatter before he heard her answer.

  “Happy birthday, my boy!” his mama said joyously, strapping a party hat on his head.

  “You said it was just a small dinner with the family.” He adjusted the uncomfortable elastic under his chin and looked over at Lainey, who let out a deep breath. She wore a pleasant expression, but he knew it was masking her discomfort. Every one of his teammates, as well as a number of hers, was squished into his parents’ modest living room. Even Lainey’s aunt and uncle had joined in the celebration.

  “Now that you’re thirty-four years old, it’s time you learn the truth: mothers know how to lie. Here, have a piece of baklava.” She shoved the syrupy concoction into his mouth. “And you, welcome, dear!”

  His ma turned toward a stunned Lainey and hugged her. “I’m so happy you could come. We all see how happy Gabe is since you’ve come into his life.”

  “Of course,” Lainey said kindly, though hives were creeping across her neck and cheeks. Gabe shook his head subtly toward his mother, who was about to force a party hat on Lainey. Mama frowned, but got the message.

  “Mama always makes a delicious broccoli salad. It’s a staple at every party she throws. You have to try some.” He tugged her hand and pulled her into the kitchen, while his mother ushered everyone else to the large backyard, where the festivities were being held.

  “You okay?” He removed the paper hat now that he was out of his mother’s sight.

  “Yeah,” Lainey answered perhaps a little too cheerfully. He wasn’t quite ready to believe her. “I just feel bad that I didn’t know it was your birthday. Thirty-four, eh? Impressive you can still move like you do at your advanced age.”

  “I can do a whole lot of things at my age.” He grazed her jaw with his knuckles. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. If you want to get out of here, say the word.”

  “No, I want to do this for you.” Her sweet smile and earnest comment made his chest tighten. He was such a goner.

  They walked to the backyard through the kitchen’s rickety screen door. Growing up in this modest house was amazing for a kid with soccer dreams. The land was more than nine thousand square feet, meaning there was enough grass for a couple of small nets and a game of four on four. Johnny, Zazu, Aiden, and Gabe’s dad were squaring off against Tessa and three of her friends. While it was all silly fun, it made him smile to see how impressed his teammates were with Tessa’s ability.

  Lainey trotted off to the corner of the yard where her aunt and uncle had found a pair of lawn chairs and were enjoying Mama’s famous barbecued salmon burgers.

  As he watched her hug them hello, Gabe realized she was it for him. He was always the kind of guy who knew what he wanted in life. He set his sights on a target and worked toward it, never doubting it would come his way. There was no denying things had come to him with a minimum amount of struggle. And now, his head, heart, and soul all agreed that Lainey Lukas was the one thing he needed to make his life complete, and for the first time in his life, he doubted his ability to pull it off.

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, turning him around. “Hey, man, you look like you could use a beer.” Joe, with his breezy smile, held a tall green bottle out to him.

  “Thanks,” Gabe said, clinking his Heineken with Joe’s can of diet soda. “How’s the hand?”

  Joe flexed his bandage-covered wrist that he’d injured at their last preseason game. “Hurts like the devil, man. But Alex thinks the tendons should heal before the start of the season.” Joe gestured toward the team’s trusted physiotherapist, who was drinking a beer and chatt
ing with some of the players in the corner of the yard. The man was a bit unorthodox in his ways, but Alex Martinez was the best physiotherapist Gabe had ever known.

  “Take care of yourself, ’cause Nelson’s going to be the death of me.” He usually tried to go easy on the young players, but Caleb Nelson’s cocky attitude and constant blame shifting grated on Gabe. When Nelson was pulled up from the farm league two years ago to become their backup keeper, Gabe tried to help the kid settle in, make him feel better about his relative inexperience. But somewhere along the way, Nelson decided it’d be easier to scream at his defenders every time he screwed up rather than train hard enough to earn his way off the bench. When Nelson had stepped in to replace Joe at last week’s match, he’d misjudged a goal kick and sent it right to the Portland striker waiting at the edge of the box, letting them tie the score. Instead of taking ownership of his mistake, he cussed Gabe out for not sprinting the twenty yards fast enough to prevent the shot right into the back of the net.

  Joe laughed. “Yeah, watching that third goal sail right between his legs hurt worse than the tear in my wrist. You know, if your salary didn’t eat up most of our cap, we could afford a better backup goalie.”

  “You know my salary is the only thing keeping you from having a little healthy competition from some young, new phenomenon. Once I’m gone, you might actually have to start earning your spot.” Gabe and Joe had joined the Surge at the same time seven years ago, at the height of their careers. Now they were the old guys. The veterans.

  “If it’s my time to go, then so be it,” Joe said.

  “You can’t mean that.” Professional soccer was their life, the dreamed they’d worked toward from the moment they walked. It shocked Gabe to hear Joe, a man with twenty-three appearances for Team USA, talk so casually of quitting.

  “Don’t you get sick of the bruised shins, the swollen ankles, waking up the morning after a match feeling like you just got run over by a truck? I can barely get through a single day without popping a handful of ibuprofen anymore.”

  Gabe nodded, his eyes drawn toward Johnny, who was cracking jokes and trying to impress Tessa and her wide-eyed girlfriends. Luckily for Johnny, Tessa wasn’t swayed. Otherwise the kid would be castrated already. “I could do without showing up to practice two hours earlier than everyone else just to get my ankles taped up.”

  “Every night this week, I’ve woken up screaming with a cramp in my left calf.”

  “I’ve got Alex’s number programmed first on my speed dial. Before my ma, even.”

  “I want a woman to come home to every night, not an empty hotel room. It’s getting hard to appreciate all the nights on the road. Not sure how much longer I’ll last.”

  Gabe tipped his beer back, letting the smooth, fizzy liquid coat his throat. The image of Lainey in his bed every night flashed across his mind, but it was a pointless fantasy. She’d never want that. “We’re definitely getting old.”

  “I’d argue with you that it’s the lifestyle that’s getting old and not us, but watching Johnny doing handstands just took the wind out of my sails. I’d break my back if I tried that.” Sure enough, the kid had resorted to acrobatics in an attempt to be the center of attention. He was bouncing on his hands, body completely upright and a cob of corn stuck in his mouth. Tessa just rolled her eyes and tipped him over with one finger. Smart girl.

  Gabe let his gaze drift over to Lainey, who looked happily in her comfort zone in the company of her relatives, as he thought about Joe’s revelation. Sweet as his mama’s intentions were, seeing all thirty-four candles splayed out only reminded him that he was an overripe athlete facing the last year of his contract. But did he really believe he was ready to walk away from professional soccer? His passion for the sport burned just as strong as ever. The sweet, fresh smell of the grass when he walked on the field at the start of each match. The glorious rush he got every time he stripped the ball from a quick-footed opponent. The transcendental feeling when a play he initiated clicks, propelling his team forward to victory. None of that would ever get old. But all the other details? He had to admit his patience only grew thinner for convoluted contract negotiations and media-wanking as his number of years grew bigger.

  If he was being honest with himself, the Battle of the Sexes had rejuvenated his passion more than anything these last few weeks. Lainey was the breath of fresh air that made everything stale in his life feel new again.

  After the cake had been served, “Happy Birthday” had been sung, and almost all of Mama’s delicious barbecue food had been eaten, people started to drift off. Gabe had managed to get in at least a quick hello with almost everyone. He realized he still needed to thank Lainey’s aunt and uncle for coming when they stood up to leave. He walked quickly across the yard in their direction when he noticed Marnie discreetly slip a small envelope into Lainey’s hands.

  LAINEY LOOKED DOWN AT the pink envelope Aunt Marnie had just handed her, praying no one had witnessed the transaction.

  “I know you don’t like to celebrate, but we’re your family and we do. So take the card.” Aunt Marnie smiled that sweet smile of hers that said she’d accept no argument.

  With a kiss to her aunt’s cheek, Lainey slipped the envelope inside the front pocket of her favorite navy hoodie, grateful that the late spring weather allowed an outfit with good hiding spots. What kind of cruel joke from the universe was it to make her and Gabe share a birthday? Once he found out, he’d probably insist it was sign of fate or some other ridiculous crap like that.

  Her birthday always made her uncomfortable. The most anyone’s birthday was acknowledged on the farm was giving that person an extra slice of fresh homemade bread with his or her pot of slop for dinner. Every accolade, every ounce of praise in her life had been won by fighting tooth and nail. Having a celebration for something as mundane as being born, something she didn’t have to earn, made her feel like she was cheating.

  Yet, here she was watching a crowd of people share in Gabe’s festivities, and she was finally starting to understand what all the fuss was about. His birthday was a reason for everyone to get together, kick a ball around, and eat some sugar-and-fat-laden food. He was someone worth celebrating.

  God, it was amazing how far her opinion of him had come over the last few weeks. Seeing him so happy, surrounded by the people he loved, made her warm and tingly inside. She might have actually let herself genuinely enjoy the party if everyone and their dog hadn’t just witnessed Lainey grope Gabe’s butt. Once the media got wind that they were no longer archrivals, Lainey would forever be labeled as one of Gabe’s conquests. It sucked that, once again, something that felt so good was actually so very wrong for her.

  Lainey walked her aunt and uncle to the path leading out to the front of the house and gave them each a hug before returning to the party. She couldn’t help but think of the stark differences in their lives. His childhood home was filled with so much love and support. She wondered if she would’ve been as successful if she’d grown up in a home like this. Then again, maybe the struggle was what gave her the strength to climb her way to the top.

  Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Gabe pop around the corner of the house, startling her so much that she yelped. “What’s in your pocket?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Show me,” he insisted impishly.

  “Let’s go back to the party and eat some cake.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Now I know you’re trying to distract me from something good.” He pinched her butt through her jeans, causing her to yelp again.

  In her distraction, he managed to reach inside her hoodie and find the card.

  “Give that back!” She chased after him down the weatherworn path, ignoring the overhanging apple tree branches that smacked her face as she rushed by.

  She watched helplessly as Gabe eased the card from the envelope. Aunt Marnie never sealed the envelopes, always tucking in
the flaps instead so that Lainey wouldn’t end up with a paper cut on her birthday. His mischievous smile fell as the cartoon image of a monkey holding a birthday cake slid into view.

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

  “For the same reason you never told me.” Birthdays were the kind of thing couples shared with each other. The kind of thing you remembered and celebrated together year after year. Not the kind of thing Lainey and Gabe needed to share.

  “Whoa! It’s your birthday? No way. Are you as old as Gabe? You know what birthdays mean.” Johnny appeared out of nowhere to plant a kiss smack on her lips, leaving her too stunned to react.

  “It’s your birthday, too? Why didn’t you say something? Mama could have made you a special cake,” Tessa chimed in, loud enough that everyone on the block could hear.

  “It’s no big deal,” Lainey answered cheerily, trying to ignore the dozens of expectant stares fixed on her. “Let’s just focus on Gabe. The party is for him.”

  “Well, you still need to get your birthday bumps. It’s the rule of birthdays. Hey, Aiden, grab her legs and I’ll get her arms,” Johnny said, inviting everyone’s laughter.

  “Oh no.” Fortunately, Lainey realized quickly enough what Johnny was up to. She smacked his grabby hands away in the nick of time, and secured his compliance by flashing her “don’t mess with me” glare.

  Gabe’s mother was the next person in line to totter up to her and further her embarrassment, giving Lainey a big hug, which she tolerated because, well, it was his mom.

  “How amazing to have the same birthday. What are the odds? Come, come. You need your own candles. I will get you a special piece of cake.”

  Against her better judgment, she let Gabe’s mom drag her to the long table where the remnants of the white-frosted chocolate cake rested, and tried to hide her embarrassment.

  WATCHING LAINEY GO OFF with his mother warmed Gabe’s heart. He could see by the way her face was scrunched up in concentration that she was calculating her every action carefully. She was a natural, though. Sure, she was quiet and preferred not to be the center of attention, but Lainey’s kindness and genuine interest in others shone through today. His mother lit a single candle on a slice of cake and held it up for Lainey to blow out.