“What, you want the exact date?” She sounded as confused as Lia felt.
“Preferably, yeah.”
It was then that Lia noticed a few other ears listening in around them. “Don’t tell me you’ve got some kind of betting ring going.”
Shanice at least had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Annoyance flashed across Erin’s face. “And you’re in on it? You’re supposed to be our captain!”
“Oh, please.” Shanice shook her head. “After the will-they, won’t-they saga of the last few months, this was the only way to keep ourselves sane.”
“What do you mean, months?” Erin’s hand squeezed hers, hard, a tremor of anger in her shoulders.
“The sexual tension between the two of you has been obvious since the day Lia arrived. It wasn’t a question of if, but when. I’m sorry, okay? But oh my God, dealing with it has been exhausting. Sue us for coming up with a way to cope.”
Lia held her breath, waiting for Erin to snap—waiting for her to turn on her heel and storm away.
But instead, she took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking her head. “It was April 12.”
A cheer sounded somewhere behind them, but Lia didn’t dare look at who had won. She was too busy looking at Erin, searching her face for any sign of regret.
Thankfully, she found none, only Erin’s weight, solid against Lia’s shoulder, hand warm in Lia’s own as Erin pulled her away, continuing her quest to find their table. They were on the same one but seated opposite each other—with a flick of her wrist, Erin swapped her own name with Cerys’s.
Cerys, who was already sat in her assigned seat, rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, I’ll move. Always a pleasure to see you, Erin.” She shifted to sit beside Alex, letting Lia and Erin settle next to one another. “I hope you guys are happy. Alex and I lost out on two hundred quid because of you two.”
“You knew about the bet?” Lia turned to her friend, betrayed. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Because you’d freak out.”
“You could’ve joined in.” Erin told Alex as she poured Lia and then herself a generous glass of red wine. “You’d have been a certain winner.”
“It didn’t feel very sportspersonlike.” Alex flashed Erin a wry smile. “You doing okay, now the cat’s out of the bag?”
“Yes.” Beneath the table, Erin’s hand settled on Lia’s thigh as she focused on Alex and Cerys. “Thank you both for keeping it to yourselves until we were ready.”
“Wow.” Cerys pressed a hand to her chest. “I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it.” But Erin’s lips were quirked into a smile; she had a relaxed look on her face.
She looked like a weight had been lifted, and Lia knew how that felt. It was amazing to reach for Erin’s hand, to smooth the collar of her shirt, to feel Erin’s lips against her cheek.
That night, Lia won three awards: top goalscorer, biggest gamechanger, and player of the season.
But her greatest win was seeing the pride in Erin’s gaze each time she was called to the stage, to see her clapping harder than anyone else in the room. And her best prize was going home with Erin, where she was pressed against the nearest wall, a warm mouth settling between her thighs.
Epilogue
Erin bent at the waist, gasping for breath, and glanced hopefully at the clock as the ball rolled out of play for a goal kick.
Five minutes of extra time left.
Five minutes for either team to break the 1-1 deadlock. Or five minutes left for one lapse of concentration to lead to an opportunity.
Exhaustion ran through Erin’s body, every muscle screaming in protest as she made herself move. She couldn’t afford to be still—couldn’t risk seizing up when so much hung on the line.
One goal, and Albion would win their third trophy of the season. Not quite a quadruple, but a treble was nothing to sniff at.
If Erin could just carry on.
