Chapter 19: First Meet Foul: Chapter 19

I broke a personal record, scoring three times in our game the next day. There was a fire lit inside me, fueling me to play harder, go harder. Maybe I was on edge because of the lusty thoughts I had all night for Luca, replaying when he watched me yesterday. Or the fact I adored his grandma, and every time I saw them together, my chest ached with a need I couldn’t explain. The third culprit for my unmatched energy was the fact my ex had liked my social posts? He was either spying on me to gain insight on the project or… what? Missing me? Not likely. Regardless of why, my adrenaline remained high, and I took advantage on the field.

I ran faster, pushed myself further, and my footwork was top-notch.

“Romano,” my coach said, pulling me in for a half-hug. She smelled like sweat and fresh-cut grass. “You rocked it today.”

“Thanks.” I grinned hard. Coach Ramirez was tough as nails and rarely smiled but knew her shit. A compliment from her was amazing. “I felt good. Focused.”

“Keep it up. Whatever it is, do it Thursday. We’re facing my cousin, and god, if I have to hear her brag about beating us during the holidays, I’ll cut off my ears.”

“Sure thing, Coach.” I snorted at the grumpy expression on her face. We played a Missouri school Thursday at their home stadium, and I wanted the win too. I was on par to have the best season of my career, yet I couldn’t let that get to me. If I thought about it, I’d overthink everything I did on the field. Being a successful athlete was almost all mental. Yes, you needed the physical skills and talents and practice to make repetition permanent, but the mental stamina and headspace were equally as important. No one really talked about that—it was just expected for us to deal with it. Coach Ramirez looked into having a part-time psychologist work with the girls, which I loved. It wasn’t the norm though. Plus, Ted Lasso honed in on the mental strength players needed, which was the right direction.

What if there was a marketing campaign about mental health of athletes? What if the Women’s National Soccer team needed a marketing specialist?

I shoved the thought away as we headed into the locker room. For girls who dreamed of having a soccer career, the USWST was endgame. Possibly play in the Olympics or World Cup. For me though, that wasn’t it. I loved the game and was grateful I could pay for school with it, but continuing after college didn’t excite me like it used to. My entire life had been soccer or Dean’s career. All my memories revolved around a sport. My first Christmas I could remember, I’d gotten a soccer ball. Every holiday after had a travel team or indoor soccer or intramurals. The future without it seemed a different kind of fun, one where I could be whoever I wanted without the crutch of being Dean’s twin sister or a soccer player.

There was a countdown on my athletic career, and for some reason, that made me play better. Coach always said leave everything on the field, and that was what I planned to do.

“Girl, let me touch you.” Mack approached me and put her arm around my neck. Her braids plastered to her face, a few loose strands blowing in the wind. “I need your sauce.”

“No sauce.” I hugged her back, our sweat combining. We laughed for a bit before letting go. She too was a scholarship recipient, but instead of planning a future career, she wanted to play for the US. It was all she’d dreamt about.

“You dominated today. Kind of annoying, actually. Like, I like when you pass to me so I get the goal. Your girl needs the stats.”

“Should’ve made more goals then,” I fired back.

Mack rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth to her words when she said, “Great game, girl. I gotta ask though…”

“Ask what?”

“You play that way cause Luca is here?”

My pulse sped up, roaring in my ears. “Wait, he’s here? At the game?”

She nodded, a spark entering her eyes. I didn’t like that spark. It meant she knew things but what things? I hadn’t mentioned yesterday, our moment. I told no one. It was a secret I’d take to the grave, but why had she looked at me like that?

I coughed into my fist as heat spread to my fingers. “I didn’t realize he came.”

“Him and your brother. They caused a scene because of you know, football players.” Her tone held a hint of annoyance as the sparkle shifted to something else.

“Of course they did.” I chewed the side of my lip, a million questions going through my head. Why had Luca come today, after we’d essentially agreed nothing would ever happen between us? Unless Dean forced him to attend, but Luca didn’t do anything he didn’t want to.

He wants to come then.

A bright, pleasant feeling grew in my chest at the thought.

As we showered and listened to our post-game chat with Coach Ramirez, I couldn’t quite focus. The post-game high was a real thing, and I couldn’t sit still. My left leg bounced up and down, my gut twisting with anticipation of some sort. I wanted to do something, anything really, to rid of this energy. Could be something easy like a long walk or even a small workout for a release. Deep down though, I’d admit I wanted to do something rash, something…wild.

Like Luca.

My face flushed, and I took another long swig of water. I knew better than to let a guy distract me after what happened with Eric, but the temptation was there. Even more so after Luca watched me touch myself. That combined with the brief whisper of his lips against mine last weekend caused a tornado of butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t recall if I’d felt that with Eric. I knew I was into him and liked our chemistry, but this vibe with Luca was more intense.

“Great game, Lorelei,” Mally Higgins said. She was a sophomore on the team and rarely complimented me. She intimidated me on every level, looks, muscles, and skills even though I was a year older.

Age didn’t equate power though. That was a lesson I learned playing for Coach Ramirez.

“Thank you.” I swallowed and flashed a smile. “You too. You had what… thirty saves today?”

“Thirty-five.” She flashed a smile. “And thank you. Tell your brother Higgs said to fuck off. He’ll know what I mean.”

She added gel to her hair and slicked one side of it back, and ugh, she looked so cool. The coolest. I stared and she caught me in the mirror, and I made an awkward smile.

“You’re such a dork.” Mack snorted. “Stop staring at her.”

“She’s so cool though. Like, I know she’s a sophomore, but I want her swag. The badassery that radiates around her. If we were walking in a crowd, people would move out of her way. Me? People push me around.”

“Cause you’re short.”

Mack shoved the doors open to exit the locker room, and the familiar smell of grass and cleaner filled the air. I breathed it in deep, the same electric bubble of something circulating under my skin. I could lie to myself, but it was the fact I was about to see Luca again. So soon too. After we got home last night, he’d walked me to my room and immediately shut his door. If life repeated itself, I didn’t expect to see him for at least a week.

How fun, our routine was for us to cross the line and then avoid each other. Healthy. Super fucking normal.

“But what did she mean about your brother?” Mack said, drawing my attention back to her. A slight blush crept down her face and neck.

See, the thing about Mack was, she tried really hard to hide her crush on my brother. She heard me complain about the girls who used me to get to him, the fake attempts at friendship just to try to hit on Dean. I appreciated her effort to never be one of those girls, but she was shit at hiding the truth

“Fuck off, he’ll know what it means? I mean, it’s pretty clear.” I laughed as my gaze landed on Dean and Luca. They headed toward us, and Luca’s dark eyes narrowed as he glanced down my body. My skin prickled from his perusal, and I was glad I put on my favorite jeans. They provided an extra layer of armor. For what? I didn’t know, but I needed it.

“Are they—” her question was interrupted by Dean holding up his hands in a double high-five. Our tradition.

“Fivesies.” He grinned hard at me as we did our handshake. It was three hits, elbow, elbow, one kick and a double clap. We both laughed by the end, and I snuck a glance at Luca, who stared unblinking at me. There might’ve been warmth in his gaze, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Y’all know how lame you look, right?” Mack said, amusement filling her tone.

“By lame you mean awesome?” I fired back. “I’m sorry you don’t have an annoying twin who was your best friend growing up.”

“We weren’t best friends,” Dean said. “We tolerated each other.”

“Are you saying we weren’t close? What the hell?” I punched his arm. He swatted my hand. “Why are you at the game then?”

“School spirit.”

“Liar.” I shook my head and took my time eyeing Luca’s outfit. Tight, fitted black jeans, a thermal with a hood, and his fresh, clean scent that reminded me of him. Now why had he come to the game? “You also feeling spirited? Why are you at the game? Sundays are for… color-coding your socks, I thought?”

His lips quirked up but not enough for a smile. “Figured I could support my quarterback’s sister.”

“That’s a weird sentence.” Mack scrunched her nose, her frown growing as she stared at Luca. Her apprehension matched my own confusion at seeing Luca here, studying me.

A part of me was thrilled. He came to a game! But the reason why was unclear, and I wanted to know. More like, I needed to know. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Was I stuck in his too?

“I dragged him along. The poor guy was neck deep into a book, and I saved him from that torture.” Dean stared at Mack for a beat too long then asked me, “You heading back to the house or hanging with your teammates?”

“Speaking of teammates. Higgs wanted me to pass the message fuck off to you.”

Dean cackled. “That girl. She’s funny.”

“Funny?” Mack said, her brows drawing together. “How do you—doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, her voice betraying a little too much curiosity.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do about her crush besides nothing. It was her life and her choices. Did I think Dean was ready for a relationship? Absolutely not. He was as polite as an ogre.

But moments like this, where she wanted to ask so desperately, I could help her out. “Yeah, why the hell do you know Mally well enough to get cussed out?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair and laughed. “We fight over a parking spot outside Phoenix Hall. It’s an ongoing war, nothing more than that.”

“Strange.” I shrugged and adjusted the bag from my right to my left shoulder. In doing the motion, a familiar head of blond hair came into view, and my body went rigid. He wore a Central State soccer sweatshirt with my number on the chest. I knew that shirt. I’d made that shirt.

Why was Eric here? What the actual hell? Luca rocked me off my game, but Eric flattened me.

My lips parted, and my skin flushed. My stomach soured, and I knew the second Mack saw him because she looped her arm through mine.

“What’s wrong?” Luca asked, his growly voice pulling my attention. “Lorelei—”

“What’s happening?” Dean’s frantic energy matched the unease in my gut as he also narrowed his eyes at me. “Lo, you paled.”

Luca frowned and glanced over his shoulder, his body tensing when he too saw the object of my discomfort. He fisted his hand at his side, and the only reason I even saw that was because I was too uncomfortable looking at Eric.

The thing about my ex was that I never could figure out his intentions. He’d make me feel important one week, then like dirt the next. He’d say he loved my attitude and fire and drive, then act embarrassed by me. It was unhealthy and inconsistent and even now—he had zero reason being at the game with my number. Did he think I’d forgive him for how he’d hurt me?

Eric approached us, his easy smile flashing. “Hey all, great game, Mack.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Lo, can I talk to you for a second?” The smile fell, and worry laced his eyes. “Please? It won’t take long.”

My jaw tensed, and I hated that I nodded.

“You don’t have to,” Luca said, his voice stern and almost angry. “You don’t have to speak with him if you don’t want to, Lorelei.”

I met his stormy eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes were cloudy and angry. Tight lines formed around his mouth, and his left cheek twitched, yet my mind couldn’t piece together why.

I hated the minor pull I still had to Eric, the curiosity to hear what he had to say. Did I want to be back with him? No. Did I still love him? No. Definitely not. But maybe my ego needed real closure or to know he regretted it. I nodded at Eric and moved past my brother and Luca.

Luca growled something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear it. My focus was on Eric, the guy who made me want to never date again. I eyed his shirt and sneered. “You shouldn’t wear that. It was a gift when we were together.”

“It’s the only soccer gear I had, and I realize what it looks like.” He winced and gripped the back of his neck. “You played insane, Lo. Watching you on the field was like… I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” I said, coolly. “It’s clear this is the first time you’ve seen me play.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for that.” He sighed, his breath hitting my face, before he stared at my mouth. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, and I wish I had a good excuse. I don’t. I fucked up. I miss us. I hate that we glare at each other in class, like I can’t even talk to you anymore. We were friends first.”

Irritation danced along my spine, flirting with the simmering anger I always got when I thought of him. A dull ache formed in the back of my eyes. “What do you want from me? I don’t get this. We broke up because you’re an asshole. You moved on—we both moved on.”

“I want us to be friends. Talk about things. Like our projects in class—”

“Are you fucking joking?” I yelled, my seething anger turning my vision red. Did he come to my game to try and talk about our class project? The nerve. “Tell me right now before I—”

“Time to go, Lo.” A strong voice was nearby, a voice I recognized, but I wanted to punch Eric in the face.

Someone put their hand on my shoulder, grounding me, and then the hand moved to my hip, drawing me into a large chest.

“Leave,” Luca barked at Eric. “She played one of the best games of her career, and you’re making it about you.”

Luca nudged me in the other direction, his chest heaving like he’d sprinted down the field, and I let him lead me. It was easier than trying to think. If I allowed my mind take control, my fists would be in Eric’s face.

I growled, my entire body overheated and angry and hyped up from the game. “I hate him.”

“Hold it in, your coach is still here. Once we put some distance, you can let it loose, I promise.”

I nodded, my emotions all over the place. Why was I suddenly thankful and happy that it was Luca who was with me right now?