Page 89 of Stealing for Keeps
“That is highly unlikely. You’re a distraction.”
He lifts both brows, then kisses me, stealing my breath. I never thought a kiss could feel this good.
“See you tomorrow night?” I ask when we finally break apart.
“I can’t. We have a team get-together at Coach’s house.”
“Right.” And then the next two days, he has away games.
He leans in to kiss me again. This time, it’s quick, but no less exciting.
“See you tomorrow.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.
“See you tomorrow,” I say back, and then we continue to stand there.
“Claire!” My mom’s voice eventually calls from inside.
“I better go.” I kiss him one more time. I could easily become very addicted to his kisses.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Austin
The Collinses’ home isn’t as extravagant as I expected, though it’s still the biggest house I’ve ever been in.
The living room has a huge sectional where my teammates are camped out in front of the large TV on the wall in front of it. There isn’t a lot of other decor: a clock, a large canvas art piece that looks like one of those you can get at a home good store, and a framed jersey.
“Who is Cooper?” I ask Rowan, nodding toward it.
“Not sure.” He raises his voice and yells, “Cap, who’s Cooper on the wall?”
Vaughn’s gaze quickly darts to the jersey and then back to the bag of chips he’s opening as he stands in the kitchen. “A friend my dad played with his first year on Arsenal.”
I make a mental note to look him up later. He wasn’t mentioned in the Jude Collins biography. I finished it in two days and returned it to Mrs. Finch, who proceeded to convince me to check out two more sports biographies: Arnold Schwarzenegger and Michael Jordan.
“Disco! You’re on my team.” Barrett holds up aPlayStation controller in invitation. “Let’s see your gaming skills.”
I’m happy to sit down. I twisted my ankle today in practice during a drill. I’ll be fine, but putting my full weight on it is uncomfortable.
For the next hour, we all hang in the Collinses’ living room playing video games and eating junk food. When Coach arrives with pizza, we all disperse to the kitchen to fill our plates and then sit around the long dining room table. While we eat, Coach goes over the schedule for the rest of the week. We’re missing a day and a half of school, leaving Thursday afternoon after lunch to take the bus to our first game, then staying the night in a hotel before heading to our Friday night game.
My parents aren’t able to make it because they didn’t want to pull Torrance and Wyatt out of school. I get it, but my dad still hasn’t seen me play with my new team. Next weekend, we have another home game, and it can’t come soon enough.
When I told Claire that I’d play soccer even if no one was watching, I meant it. But if I could only pick one person to be in the stands, it’d be my dad. It’s his love of soccer that got me into it in the first place. He never played, except kicking the ball around with me, but he watched it and talked about it like it was this magical, extraordinary thing. I get it now, but as a kid, it was just a fun thing to do, the two of us.
Coach leaves us and heads upstairs where I assume the bedrooms are. I could easily get lost in this house.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask Rowan after I toss my trash.
“Down the hall on the left.” He nods his head in the direction.
I walk through the house, slowly, taking in the details. There are a lot of blank walls that make me wonder how long they’ve lived here. We’ve only been in our new spot for a few months, but Mom has last year’s school photos up on the wall and art that the three of us made over the years.
I pause when I get to the first doorway, then suck in a breath. My feet move in without me giving them permission. There’s a large oak desk on one side with one of those comfy, leather office chairs behind it. On top of the desk is a MacBook, a few notebooks, and other miscellaneous office supplies that I only give a cursory glance.
Because the rest of the room is filled with trophies and awards, signed soccer balls, jerseys…and so much more. A full-body tingle rolls through me. It’s like stepping onto hallowed ground.
I read the name of the award and the date on each one. In many instances, I can picture the photos of him accepting them or the games that led to it. A lifetime of achievement, a career that any player in my shoes could only dream and hope for.
