Mattie wrinkled her nose. “Right. Except Alex.”
Lifting my palm reader, I shot off a quick message to Rafe. The first game was about to start: Arbon versus New America. At this stage, I didn't know which team Zach was playing for, but either way, it was going to be an interesting match.
You are in big fucking trouble. Why didn't you tell me? I don't even have my W.
Putting anything about a weapon in a message was stupid; these things could be hacked, even if I knew Rafe would have all the tech to stop that. As my worry grew, I sent another message to him.
This is the perfect time for an attack. And I have picked up on four security guards. They're not the best. Maybe I should be guarding them?
I didn't figure he'd reply to the string of messages, each of which got shorter and angrier. Especially as the announcements started, welcoming the two teams out onto the field. They were quicker games than usual so they could fit five or six matches in today.
My palm reader buzzed just as the players emerged onto the field.
Angel:Eight.
I blinked at it, and then shifted my gaze around the perimeter of my attack zone. That's where the security would be. It took me a few more seconds, and I was kicking myself afterward for not noticing, but I identified three fast. One eluded me though, and I decided that was the head of this team.
Rafe was nothing if not thorough, and he expected the best at all times.
"They're starting," Mattie said, and she sounded nervous. Turning to the field, I wasn't at all surprised to see Rafe smirking at me, Jordan staring with worried eyes as he perused the stand around me, and Nolan doing a backflip in the middle of everyone.
He nailed it too.
"Supposed to wait until you score a goal to celebrate," Mattie said, finally tearing her eyes from Zach long enough to shake her head at her twin. "But Nolan likes to just celebrate life."
I shrugged. "Eh, life is short. I say celebrate waking up every morning."
Mattie made a noncommittal sound, her attention already back on her wayward fiancé.
"Talked to him since he kissed you?"
She worried at her lips. "He's tried, but I keep avoiding him. I don't know what to do with my feelings. Every time I try and unpack them it's such a mess, so I throw it all back into the emotional suitcase."
Surprisingly deep analogy there. I mulled that over in my head. "Maybe you're making it more messy than it needs to be. By not talking to him, you're creating scenarios in your head that probably don't exist."
Zach was in the center of the field, speaking with the lineman. Mattie had her eyes on his broad shoulders like she was memorizing every line. Her breath caught when Zach whipped his head around and nailed her with a look—a long, unreadable stare that said he was not happy. It said other things as well, and I wasn't surprised my friend was squirming where she sat.
"Just talk to him," I told her. "There's something between you, and I think you should explore the possibility that he might be the perfect match for you, even without the genetic testing."
I'd never known her to be a coward in this type of situation. My friend was fierce and proud. This guy had messed her up, and she didn't know how to handle it.
"Fuck," she groaned beneath her breath. The next words she muttered weren't in English, but I got the general idea. She was mad at herself.
Thankfully, the game started, and I went back to splitting my attention between my guys and the crowd, searching for any sort of disturbance. I felt like I should sense Uriel if he were here; that guy always had a negative energy about him, like he sucked the life from a room with his mere presence. Surely I'd feel that.
"Your princes are on fire!" Mattie shouted, jumping up to cheer with everyone else. I'd missed it, but apparently Jordan had saved a New American attempt at goal and shot the ball to Rafe, who'd managed to run it in from the back of the field. The score on the wall read Arbon four, New America two.
"Zach probably wishes he'd changed soccer affiliations as well, right?"
Mattie laughed. "Oh yeah, he hates losing. Especially to his brother." She side-eyed me. "If you married Jordan and I married Zach, we'd be legit sisters."
I snorted. "Nothing legit about those two and their family drama."
"Wouldn’t have to be our drama."
So true.
Arbon wrapped up the first game with a six-to-two win, and I loved the smirk on Jordan's face as he shook hands with Zach. For once, Zach didn't push any agenda, just gave his half brother a nod before leaving with the rest of his team.
