"My intentions would be simple," he says with a deep, heated gaze, his warm breath fanning across my face.
He slowly moves himself even closer to me so that our bodies are mere millimeters away from touching, causing breathing to become a chore. "M...
Author's Note: If you don't know much about soccer, the gif below is an example of a guy doing what's called a 'nutmeg.' Trust me, you knowing what that looks like will make a certain part of this chapter much more humorous. ;)
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Enjoy!
~~~
By the following afternoon, I couldn't wait for school to end so I could get back out on the soccer field for practice.
The girl's coach couldn't start running practices until next week, but myself and a couple other ladies decided to crash the guys' practice so we could get a head start on conditioning.
I hadn't seen or talked to Jayce all day, thank God. Obviously, I know I'm going to be practicing with his team, but I was relived that he hadn't gone out of his way to annoy me during the day. I hoped that meant he had already found a girl to set his sights on.
I jog out onto the field in my trusty cleats, shinguards, Nike volleyball shorts and red and gold Goldcrest practice jersey, my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. I spot a group of five of my teammates, who are stretching on the sidelines. The guys are all dicking around on the field, kicking balls at each other's balls and slapping each other's butts.
The sun is high in the clear, blue sky and I could swear that the invigorating breeze is made of bliss. I've always admired a clean cut, deep green soccer field with crisp white lines, and our school field is impeccable. The smell of freshly mown grass is in the air and I can't wait to work up a sweat under the perfect, cloudless sky.
"Fallon, did you see Adam's fuckin' eye when he came in this morning?" Celia, a pretty, raven-haired senior asks me as she stretches her quads. She's one of the tallest players on our team, is our best defensive player by a long shot and has the mouth of a truck driver. I love it.
I do my best to keep an uninterested expression as I shake my head, even though my heart had started pumping a bit faster, "Who is Adam?"
Celia rolls her eyes at my fake ignorance, "One of the guys' center mids. He came in this morning looking like he got his ass handed to him. He's got a super fucked up black eye."
"He said he got elbowed at practice yesterday," Nancy, a sophomore and one of our forwards says as she jogs in place, her thick brown ponytail hitting her back rhythmically.
I know for a fact that Adam had lied, since his face was perfectly normal after practice last night when he loudly requested that I play with his testicles.
"That's some bullshit," Celia says, tightening the laces on her cleats.
My stomach is doing backflips, wondering if Jayce did something to Adam after his repulsive catcall to me last night. If Adam was already screwed up by the time he had gotten to school this morning, it couldn't have been Haven who'd hit him.
