“Ouch.”
“You’re my competition.” Erin said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But don’t take it personally—I don’t do friends.”
Just when Lia thought they were getting somewhere—that Erin might not be a robot—she went and said something like that. “You don’t do friends? You do know that this is a team sport, right?”
“And?” A blonde eyebrow rose. “This is my job. You’re my work colleague.”
“Wow.” In her seven-year career, Lia had never once been called a colleague. “Have you always had this attitude?”
“Yes.” Erin sniffed, jutting out her jaw. “And it’s never done me wrong. I don’t get attached. Players join and leave all the time—it’s better that way. No messy friendships to strain things on the field. Or…relationships.”
Lia stiffened. “Is that a dig at me? For leaving Wanderers because of Hannah?”
“Merely an observation.”
“Well, I’d rather do it my way than be a stuck-up loner who thinks she’s above everyone else.” Lia had never met a more frustrating person in her life. “Don’t bother talking to me again. We are only colleagues, after all.”
Without looking back, Lia stomped to the training pitches. Everyone else was already there warming up.
“Lia.” Ayla pursed her lips in disapproval. “You’re late. You can do an extra five laps.”
“Yes, Coach.” Lia didn’t complain as she swapped her trainers for her football boots and stepped onto the grass.
It grounded her, feeling her studs sinking into the turf. With the sun warming her skin, Lia broke into a gentle jog and let her worries flee her mind. When she was on the pitch—for real or at training—the only thing that mattered was her, her teammates, and the ball.
And nothing was ever going to get in the way of that.
* * *
“Who thought this was a good idea?” Erin covered a yawn with the back of her hand as she leaned against the viewing platform railing at the top of the Empire State Building. “Did they not realise that being here for sunrise would involve getting up at five thirty in the morning?”
Clutching a to-go espresso from Starbucks like it was a lifeline, Alex chuckled. “I don’t know. Hey, look at it this way—you wanted more time to see the city. Now you’ve got the whole day ahead of you.”
“Yes, with a bunch of cranky, overtired footballers. I can hardly contain my excitement.”
Alex snickered, taking a long sip of their coffee. Erin tried not to look at it too longingly. She’d never been able to drink the stuff, unable to stand the taste, despite her teammates’ insistence that it was their lifeblood.
But a caffeine hit would be welcome right about now.
Around them, the rest of Albion’s pre-season squad were spread around the deck, mixed in with a few overeager tourists.
“Come on.” Behind Alex, Lia tugged a half-asleep Cerys toward a free spot at the railing. “The view will be worth it.” Lia was far too peppy for the time of morning, one of the few players up here with a spring in their step.
Erin couldn’t hide the curl of her lip as Lia brushed past without sparing her a glance.
Trust Alex to notice. “You were supposed to apologise to her. Offer an olive branch.”
“I did.”
“Then why do you still look like you want to push her off the side of the building?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no gap for her to fit through.”
With a snort, Alex knocked their shoulder against Erin’s. “Play nice, will you? I’m going to catch up with some of the others.”
Happy to stay where she was and soak in the solitude, Erin turned her gaze back toward the cityscape below. On the horizon, the sun inched its way higher in the sky, washing the buildings in hues of yellow, orange, and gold.
People clamoured for their phones to capture the moment, but Erin was content to stand and watch, losing herself in the beauty of the moment. Maybe it was worth the early wake-up call.
