He started chewing on the inside of his cheek from the way his facial muscles moved.
It’s the little victories in life that really mattered. Sticking my tongue out once again and sucking in another ragged breath, I calmed down a little more. My head was gently throbbing from how exerted I was, and I reached up to rub at my temples.
The German slowly hunched over until his palms rested just above his knees and took deep breaths. His eyes were on the grass before slowly moving them up. His shirt was plastered to his shoulders and his biceps, his hair matted down to his scalp.
Neither one of us said anything for a while.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I bent over to do a quick stretch of my hamstrings, then my quads, and finally my calves. When I straightened, I shook out my shoulders and watched as my coach straightened up and began to stretch. All those long, lean muscles….
I cleared my throat and looked at the sky. No need to make this awkward or give him a reason to rub his stupid win in my face. Would he do it? Yeah, he would. It was time for me to get the hell out of there and feed the goblin in my stomach.
“Well, I’m leaving now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I had just turned around and started to make my way off the field when he piped up. “You’re a good loser, Casillas!”
I started to shake my head as I walked off.
I kept shaking my head, even as I realized that he’d used my last name again.
“Someonefinallygotlaid.”
I scrunched my face up and looked around. “Who? Phyllis?”
“Sal, that’s disgusting.” Harlow shuddered. “No. You know who I’m talking about,” she said with that look that said “you know who I’m talking about.”
“Heh.” I crossed my eyes at her and zeroed in on the overly aggressive bratwurst walking around the field, helping set up equipment with the rest of the staff. This was normal, except for the fact that hewasfreaking sort of smiling.It was as much of one as a man who had more in common with a robot was capable of, I guess.
Still, the smile went straight to my gut.
“Look at him. He looks happy. It’s weird and wrong, isn’t it?” she muttered under her breath.
It was weird and slightly wrong.
Tipping my head to the side, I kept rolling my socks up my shins and watched him for a second longer. The smile didn’t last long, and there was something else different about his face, his entire demeanor. He looked like a smug son of a bitch, the same smug son of a bitch that used to dominate the field.
Oh God. He was back. My gut said that he might have gotten laid, though he didn’t strike me as the type that sex would have made that big of a difference in him, but it was beyond that.
Those greenish-hazel eyes looked around the field as he shoved a big yellow obstacle into place, and he caught me looking at him. His eyelids lowered, and one corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile that was one fourth the size of a normal one. It morphed into a smirk a second later.
I knew what he was thinking: loser.
That smirk said it all, though. I was right. Maybe he’d gottenlaid, and I didn’t really like the way that thought made my ears feel strange, but I knew why he’d been smiling.
Because maybe he’d kicked my ass the day before.
But the truth was, at least the version of the truth I wanted to accept, he’d finally played soccer for the first time in years.
And you know what? As much as I hated the fact that he’d won, I had to snicker to myself.You’re welcome, pumpernickel.
Damn that was annoying.Hewas annoying.
“Pssh. He probably stayed up doing inventory on his trophies last night.” I laughed.
Harlow snickered and laughed.
Waggling my eyebrows, I elbowed her in the side and gestured toward where the mini bands were located for stretching. Jeez Louise, I was sore. I probably looked like a lumbering bear getting to my feet. Busy adjusting my bun and headband so my bangs wouldn’t get into my face, I barely happened to look up just as I was passing by Gardner, Kulti, and Phyllis, the fitness coach.
“Morning,” I greeted them.
