Keeping Score

by Sara Rider

  The toast popped, pulling them out of the moment. He rested his forehead against hers, their chests rising and falling in unison from their heavy breaths.

  “So, just to clarify this thing between us. Is it a lust thing, or is it also a feelings thing?” Jaime asked tentatively.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “It’s definitely a feelings thing. The lust part is just a very happy by-product.”

  She grinned like a fool, unable to control her giddy emotions from spreading across her face.

  Alex pressed his lips against her forehead sweetly, then headed to the counter to grab one of the smaller bags he’d brought with him. “This is for you.”

  He tossed the bag at her. Something soft was inside. She opened it to see what it was. “Underwear?” Not even the sexy lacy kind she’d discovered he liked so much that night the bus broke down. The white cotton athletic kind.

  He nodded. Curiously, she examined the panties. Something had been imprinted on them. She glanced up at him when she realized what it was. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and a faint blush crept along his cheeks.

  Screenshots of some of her fans’ tweets to her over the week were imprinted on the undies. “Five feet of heart, a thousand feet of strength,” she read aloud, feeling the sting of tears prickle her eyes.

  “I thought you could use some extra inspiration today. I wanted to get it printed on a T-shirt, but they were out of your size. This is the only kind of plain white cotton I could find on short notice.”

  Her throat was thick and rough. “When did you have time to do this?” She clutched the underwear to her chest.

  “Last night. I was upset at first about your text, which is why I didn’t call. Then I realized I was overreacting, so I figured I should do something to make it up to you.”

  She smiled. It was hands down the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. “I don’t care that they haven’t been washed yet. I’m wearing them today.” She ran into her bedroom and changed quickly, not bothering to put her pants back on.

  When she came out, Alex had finished cooking the eggs. She gave a saucy little twirl for him to admire his gift, then sat down for some food. She was hungrier than she realized and scarfed down the eggs and toast like a madwoman while Alex watched her with a grin.

  “Hey, I’m an athlete. Food is fuel,” she said with a shrug. She’d never apologized for the amount she ate before, and she sure as heck wasn’t going to start now. She tossed one of the strawberries on her plate at him for good measure. He caught it deftly in his hand and sucked the ripe, red berry seductively between his beautiful, thick lips. Heat burned her cheeks and flooded to her core as he teased her. “Okay, fine. Food is also an aphrodisiac.”

  He swallowed the strawberry with a wink. “If you’re eating for fuel, then can I assume you’re going to show up to practice today?”

  Every time she thought about having to face her team, she crashed into an invisible brick wall. It popped up in front of her again, but this time it didn’t feel so impenetrable. Her confidence had grown this morning with Alex at her side, and the visit from Lainey and Alyssa last night had meant the world to her. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

  “You want a ride?” His eyes narrowed, like he was trying to read more deeply into her words. She didn’t blame him for his doubt.

  “No, I want to do this on my own. I swear I’ll be there, okay?”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “All right. I need to head out. I’ll see you at practice, and then dinner tonight, if that’s okay. We can try out some new techniques to help you deal with the morning stiffness until we find something that works.”

  “That might take a lot of practice.”

  “I’m willing to wake up in the same bed with you as many times as it takes to find something that works.” He pecked her lips and headed out the door.

  ALEX STRUGGLED TO STAY focused while he and Sam prepped the players for practice. It was hard enough to get the image of Jaime shaking her booty in her new underwear out of his head. He’d felt incredibly sheepish making that rush order at the local Wal-Mart last night, but all the embarrassment of buying women’s panties had been worth it when he saw her face light up.

  He was going to have to tell her one of these days he was leaving the Falcons when the season ended. Until that first moonlight-soaked kiss in the hotel pool in Miami, he couldn’t imagine sacrificing the career he’d worked so hard for to be with a woman. But he’d give up just about anything for the chance to spend the next few weeks as Jaime’s man. Maybe, if he was the luckiest bastard in the world, she’d understand why he was handing in his resignation at the end of the season, and they could try to have a real relationship.

  If she forgave him for not being up front with her.

  He was going to have to tell her sooner than later, but at the moment she needed to focus on getting back into the game. Her physical and mental recovery was so fragile right now. She didn’t need any more distractions.

  He finished wrapping Lynn’s wrist and glanced at the clock. Practice officially started in twenty minutes, but Jaime hadn’t shown up yet, and there was no way Victor would let her on the field without an assessment. The first thing Alex had done this morning was sit down with the coaches and Sam to go over the consults from the rheumatologist. He’d been careful to hold back anything that could be construed as a professional opinion, not weighing in on whether she was fit to practice or not. Sam needed to be the one to look at her and report directly to the coaches. But if Jaime didn’t get here soon, she wouldn’t be practicing at all, or playing in tomorrow’s semifinal.

  The roar of ear-shatteringly loud dance music erupted from the hallways, startling Alex so much he dropped the tape onto the ground.

  “I’m back, bitches!” Jaime’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by howling cheers and clapping from her teammates. A moment later she burst into the physio room and walked straight to Sam, giving her a big hug. “Welcome to the Falcons. I hear you are very good at what you do, so please work your magic.”

  Alex chuckled as Jaime hopped onto the assessment table. He probably should’ve warned Sam, who had gone bug-eyed, that Jaime had the energy of a Tasmanian devil. Sam grabbed Alex’s arm and walked him over to a corner of the room.

  “This is way too advanced for me. You need to take this one,” she whispered.

  “I can’t treat her, Sam. You have to do it. You have the skill. I trust you.”

  “Why?” Alex gave her a look that communicated what he was not going to say out loud. Her eyes widened even more, and a grin split across her lips. “Oooooh! Okay, then. I’ll take care of it, boss.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Sam cleared Jaime to practice. It was the choice Alex would’ve made, too, but he was careful to keep his mouth shut while his assistant ran through one of the most thorough assessments he’d ever witnessed. The ankle swelling was minimal and while Jaime was still gritting her way through pain, the risk of long-term damage had abated for the time being. They headed down the long corridor to the field. Jaime’s face beamed as she stepped her cleat-covered feet onto the grass. This was the kind of moment they lived for as a sports physio.

  He watched her and the rest of the Falcons practice harder than they ever had before. The championship was close enough to taste, and with their most-skilled playmaker back in form, nothing would stand in their way.

  21

  “ANOTHER,” COACH BELLOWED A second before he launched a corner kick in Jaime’s direction. She pulled herself off the ground with tired, protesting muscles to recover her position and volley in another one-touch shot into the empty net.

  Most players would’ve taken Coach’s order to show up six hours early to the semifinal match as a punishment. Heck, Coach had been explicitly clear that punishment was his unequivocal intent, since all the other players had worked their butts off all week whi
le she jaunted off for a photo shoot and played hooky for an extra day like a coward. She was just so grateful to be back on the sweet-smelling field that she didn’t care that she was being worked over like a plow horse and that her joints were going to wreak havoc tomorrow. She knew she deserved it, and more importantly, it meant Coach wasn’t going easy on her. He was treating her like a regular player. No kid gloves in sight.

  Yesterday’s practice was a huge boost to her confidence. Spending the rest of the night lying in Alex’s arms was the cherry on top. For the first time in her life, she had someone who made her feel safe. Someone who wanted to take some of the weight off her shoulders. Things were finally starting to go her way.

  “Tired yet, Chen?” Coach asked.

  “Getting there,” she replied with a grin, even though she had to suck in lungfuls of air between words.

  “Good. Let’s talk.”

  She picked up her water bottle from the side of the field and doused her head before taking a long sip.

  “Thank you for not taking it easy on me, Coach.”

  He nodded, an inscrutable look on his face. “You’ve impressed me, Jaime. You’ve worked hard. Not just today, but all season. You bring a spark to this team that can’t be duplicated, no matter how many drills I run or how many speeches I give. The women look up to you. They rely on you. So when you miss an entire week’s worth of practice right before the semifinals without an explanation, the entire team suffers.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you want to keep secrets from them?”

  Guilt wrapped around her throat, pulling away her breath. She nodded slowly, even though she knew Coach had a point. She hated lying to her teammates. Disappointing them. But if they knew the truth, they would be even more disappointed in her, and she couldn’t bear it.

  “Then I’m starting Bilodeau again. You need to earn everyone’s trust before I let you back in.”

  She nodded again, sweat-soaked skin suddenly icy cold, in spite of the hot afternoon sun.

  “Go shower and rest up. I still want you suited and ready for the game.”

  “Right, Coach.”

  She headed back to the still-empty change room for a long shower, waiting until the water was running full blast before screaming out her frustration and slamming her palm against the slimy blue shower tiles.

  She hissed as the sting of the impact traveled up to her funny bone. Not her smartest move, but at least she hadn’t done it in front of Coach. If this had happened a few months ago, she would’ve pitched a fit. And then she would’ve immediately regretted it because Coach would have only extended her punishment tenfold.

  She wasn’t that person anymore.

  She knew why Coach was putting her through the paces, but she wasn’t going to crack under the pressure. She was determined to prove she deserved the left midfield spot, even if she had to bite her tongue until it bled and bust her ass until her feet were nothing but blisters. Even if she didn’t make it into today’s game, she’d be there when they took the final.

  Instead of wallowing in her frustration, she went through a stretching routine Alex had taught her while she waited for the rest of her teammates to show up, periodically checking the score in the Boston–LA game.

  A few hours later, her teammates arrived at the stadium, bursting with excitement as the minutes leading up to the kickoff ticked by. They sat on the pine benches that had carried them through their tumultuous inaugural season in the American Women’s Soccer League, and listened to Coach run through the game’s strategy and lineup. When Tara’s name came up, all eyes in the room flashed to Jaime.

  “But it’s the semi, Coach,” Tara said, voice pitched high with shock. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to play. But I also want to win.”

  Jaime stood up, heart racing in her chest. “Coach made his decision. We need to respect that and focus on winning this game. And Tara, you need to start believing in yourself. You’re an incredible player, and everyone here knows it.”

  She caught Coach’s eye as she sat back down. Even though her disappointment was severe, she appreciated the faint glimmer of approval he gave her.

  She’d faced a lot of hurdles in her life, always feeling like an outsider who didn’t belong. But this team was everything to her, and her hope wasn’t extinguished yet.

  ALEX ALWAYS FOUND IT tough not getting emotionally invested in the games, but watching Jaime sit on the sidelines for ninety straight minutes was heartbreaking. Hell, he was taking it worse than she was. Victor’s decision to bench Jaime in one of the most important games of the year was bold, maybe even stupid, but the man always seemed to have his reasons. The irony of it all was almost too much. Alex had spent the last few weeks trying to convince the coach to keep Jaime out of the game, and now that the worst of her flare was over, she didn’t spend a single second on the field. But no complaints or grumbles escaped her lips, even when a lucky free kick earned Boston a one–nothing lead early in the second half. She cheered louder than anyone when Lainey responded with two amazing back-to-back goals with only minutes left in the game.

  Once the final whistle blew, the mood was more relief than celebratory. They’d beaten Boston by the skin of their teeth. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hug her when she came into the recovery room almost a full hour after the match. All his protective instincts fired up when she was around, especially now that he knew how much vulnerability was under that pristine, pale skin. But the truth was that she didn’t need him or anyone to protect her. She was a born fighter.

  He caught her alone in the hallway after hunting down a few extra supplies from the stockroom. She was out of uniform and heading toward the exit. He took advantage of the moment to give her a quick kiss on the temple. “You did great today.”

  She caught his arm as he walked past her, pulling him in for a hug. Her shoulders sagged uncharacteristically as she slumped against him, sighing. “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Don’t think I’ll make it out to the celebration tonight. I need to do some charting.”

  She frowned, making him feel like an asshole, but the championship was one week away. It was vital he stay focused on keeping the players at the peak of their fitness, which meant working double time.

  “After?” she asked hopefully.

  “Definitely. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  She flashed him that smile he loved. The one that hit him with more wattage than a floodlight. “Thanks. I’m going to go do the autograph thing now. Try not to work too hard. You deserve a break, too.”

  He nodded, letting her go. Even though she hadn’t played today, he had no doubt she was still one of the most popular players. Not just because of her skill or her larger-than-life personality. Over the last few weeks, he’d seen how much time she spent connecting with her fans on a personal level, answering every email, tweet, and letter like the sender was a longtime friend.

  By the time he was finished, the fans were long gone, and dusk had settled on the nearly empty Chester Stadium parking lot. He walked to his truck, one of only a handful of vehicles scattered in the lot, eager to get home and kill the last few hours of the evening buried inside Jaime’s sweet body.

  He tossed his gear into the bed of his truck, then circled toward the driver’s side. A woman dressed more for the office than a soccer game leaned against the door. Judging by the small black recorder in her hand, she was a reporter.

  He hated reporters.

  He kept walking, letting the scowl on his face do the talking for him. She didn’t move as he approached, so he hit the alarm button on his key fob. The brief blast of noise made the reporter shriek and jump out of his way.

  “Sorry, wrong button.” With a flick of the thumb, he shut the alarm off and reached for the door handle.

  The woman huffed and stepped back in his way, wedging herself between him and the door. “My name is
Rebecca Smith. I’m with Sport Fitness Magazine.”

  “Media inquiries need to be directed to Frank Diavolo, the PR manager. You would know this if you spent even half a second on our website.” Every rookie reporter thought they could get the inside scoop on the players by harassing the medical staff. Over the years, he’d lost all patience for that kind of underhanded tactic.

  “Can’t you break the rule just this once? For me?” She was attractive enough that the flirtatious smile she levied at him probably worked more often than not. This time, it’d get her nothing but disappointment.

  “No.” He jerked the handle, bumping the truck door into her back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to deter her.

  “Oh, come on, Alex. I hear you like to break the rules.” He froze momentarily, wondering how the heck she even knew his name. “I’ve been looking into Martin Daniels’s history with the Northern Oregon Slammers. According to my research, you and Daniels were close. Buddies, even. No one else on the team’s medical staff was allowed to look at him because he only trusted you. And yet he still suffered that mysterious torn rotator cuff that seemed to come out of nowhere. I’ve consulted some experts, and apparently that kind of injury should have come with some kind of warning. A sign that you missed, and as a result a promising young athlete’s career was almost destroyed.”

  Alex let go of the door and crossed his arms. None of this was news. The local media had jumped on this four years ago when Daniels had to drop out of Northern Oregon the day before the final game. Not just out of the team, but out of the school itself. The story had even hit a few national syndicates, but the fact was, players got injured. Even the best ones. The only thing for him to do was keep his mouth shut and not give her anything that could be twisted into ammunition.

  “There was a lot of mystery around his diagnosis, speculation over what really happened. And now you’re working with Jaime Chen, who also seems to be suffering from some unnamed, unknown ailment. Care to comment on what’s really going on?” She raised the recorder right in his face.