I bounce my leg and wait for the game to start. “When’s takeoff?” Quint shouts above the noise. I look at him in confusion, and he points to my bouncing leg. I ignore him, and he laughs. They line up to start, and I lean forward. And just like that, it’s on. A small part of me relaxes as the game gets going, and the familiar back and forth starts. I watch Slater dribble around another player and start to relax. I begin to think that maybe I was wrong about him; maybe this will be a good game after all. But that’s before I watch him get a yellow card. He yells at the ref at the call, and I stare in horror. I cover my mouth with my hand, because that’s not Slater. He’s always so cool and calm. “Come on, Slate,” Quint mutters next to me. “Keep it together.”
I watch in horror as Slate’s coach calls him over to the bench. The opposing team gets a penalty kick. Ben does his best, but it’s a really good kick. They score, and their team gathers to celebrate. I run my hand over my forehead. “What do I do?” I ask Quint without looking at him.
“Nothing,” he says in return. “This is on him. He’ll pull it out.”
But he doesn’t. He has a terrible first half. By the time we reach halftime, I feel like we’ve been playing for hours. The only good thing is that the other team hasn’t scored again except for that penalty kick. The bad news is we haven’t scored either. Our leading scorer is having probably the worst game of his career,and I know it’s one hundred percent my fault. He hasn’t been sleeping, and he’s been worried about me, about this stupid bracelet. I don’t know what to do. I get that he’s worried about me, and I get that he says he cares more about me than soccer. I am so grateful for that. But I’m also not going to sit back and watch him throw his career and future away because of me. I stand to my feet. Quint looks up at me warily. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to go talk to him.”
“They won’t let you back there,” he says, but I’m already making my way past people.
“Let them try to stop me,” I call back. I am a woman on a mission, and nobody is going to stop me. I make my way towards where the team disappeared. I walk that way, unsure what I’m going to do. But then my eyes light on a player who hasn’t left the field yet. “Ben!” I make my way that way. He turns to me. “Ben!” He jogs over to me.
“Tessa.”
“I need to talk to him.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t.”
I meet his gaze. “How bad do you want to win this game? Because you won’t. Not with your striker out of commission. And if he gets another yellow card, he’s totally out and so will you guys be.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I can tell he’s debating. “Fine. Follow me.” He starts walking and then turns back to me. “And whatever you do, keep your mouth shut.” I mime zipping my lips and follow after him. When we get to the first security guard, Ben strides right past, and I start to do the same.
The guard steps in front of me. “You can’t go back there.”
Ben’s at my side a moment later. “She’s with me, one of the trainers.” He looks down at me. “Bruce needs his left Achilleslooked at. It’s been cramping, and if we don’t get it to stop cramping, he’s going to have to sit out.” He keeps talking until we’re past the guard. He does the same thing for the next two guards. Then suddenly, we’re in front of the locker room. “Stay here.” He starts to open the door then looks at me. “Better yet, come in. This will shock him out of his funk.” Without a chance to think about it, I follow Ben into the men’s locker room. I keep my eyes downcast and beg to heaven that everyone is dressed.
It takes about zero point two seconds for Slater to notice me. There’s a loud curse, and then he’s storming over to Ben and I. Ben doesn’t move, and I don’t either. Slater stops right in front of the two of us. “What’s going on?” his voice is low and deadly. I’ve never heard that tone of voice from him before.
“Slater.” That’s all I say, and that’s all it takes. He turns to me, and the anger leaves him instantly.
“Tess, Love, what are you doing here?” He steps closer. “Are you okay? Did Ben do something to you because I swear to—”
“No,” I cut off his tirade. “I made him bring me.”
His eyes scan my face again. “Why?”
I look up at him and then take in the wide eyes of his teammates behind him. I wish we had privacy, but there’s no privacy to be had. He’s got to go play. I don’t know where Coach is, but the moment he gets back, he’s going to boot me. I have to use these precious few seconds. “Slater.” He stares at me. “I’m not going to stand by and watch your season go up in flames.” I watch as his jaw tightens. “I know you’re scared about everything going on,” I whisper. “I am too, but we’re going to figure it out. Right now, though, the priority is this game.”
He shakes his head adamantly. “No, the priority is always you.”
I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. “Then you win this game. If I'm the priority, then you win this game. For me. You focus on nothing else but being the Slater Thorne that I lovewatching play soccer, and you win this game for me. You use that focus that you’re legendary for, and you Win. This. Game. Do you hear me?”
I watch as his eyes flash dangerously. He steps forward until we’re almost touching. “Do you have any idea how hot that was?”
I grin; I can’t help it. But I don’t look away from him. “Do this. For you. For your team. And for me.”
I watch the change come over him. His face loses all emotion, and that intensity that he’s known for settles over him. “Okay.”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll see you after you win this game.” And then I turn on shaky legs and walk out of the locker room. Once I’m outside, I don’t stop walking until I’m safely back where the fans are allowed to be. Only then do I finally take a breath.
Chapter 40
Tessa
It takes me a few minutes for my legs to stop shaking enough to be able to carry me to the bleachers and up to my seat. Three sets of eyes stay on me as I make my journey down the row. I finally drop into my seat next to Quint. Evie turns to me with wide eyes. “You went back there?”
“They let you back?” Zane asks in surprise.
