Miriam’s stomach dropped. “Wait, are you a fan?”
Harris ducked his head. “Yeah. I know I probably should have hated him since he scored so many goals on Finn last season. But—”
“Come with me.”
Harris’ head shot up. “What?”
“You can drive me out to the arena and meet your hero in the meantime.”And keep him away from me.
“You’re not upset about my wavering loyalties? I thought your reaction meant you’re just as mad at him as the rest of the Storm’s fans.”
Yes, but for a very different reason. Miriam waved a hand in front of her face. “Of course not. He’s part of the Storm now, so it looks like it all worked out in the end.”
Harris’ face lit up and Miriam tried not to roll her eyes. She was counting on his fanboying to work in her favor. With Harris there to distract Silas while Miriam connected with Vinny and Grant, she would be able to hightail it out of there before any awkward moments with Silas. It was win-win.
She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Allie while Harris grabbed his keys.
Miriam: We need a lady date. STAT. Lots of ice cream!!!
Allie’s response was immediate,
Allie: Is everything okay???
Miriam: Too much to text.
Allie: Oooooh. Cryptic.
Miriam sent an eye-rolling emoji as Harris reappeared.
He smiled at her. “I’m ready when you are.”
She shoved her phone back in her purse. “Sounds great.”
Except nothing was great at all.
Silas
Silas loved being backin the “office.”
Looking out onto the field in Florida filled him with more emotions than he was prepared for. It was so overpowering that he hadn’t been able to step foot on the turf right away. He lingered at the entrance for a moment, in awe of the fact that he was actually back where he belonged.
He was home.
Now he just needed to show everyone that he was here to stay.
So many of the players were the same guys he played with years ago—no small feat in a league that had players bouncing around from team to team like ping pong balls. Plus, there was still a level of distrust simmering in the air every time they were together—which, admittedly, hadn’t been that often.
Silas was determined to show them that he planned to play for the Storm as long as Greg would keep offering him contracts. He also knew that he could tell everyone that until he was blue in the face, but those words meant nothing if he didn’t have the actions to back them up.
He needed to give every workout, every practice, his all.
And that’s what he was doing now. Even though they were in an air-conditioned arena, his forehead dripped with sweat from the intensity of that day’s practice. The team was currently running shooting drills, and Silas had yet to get one past Finn O’Brien. No big surprise there. Finn was one of the best keepers in the league, a fact that Silas had noted every time he played against the Storm the past two years. Even now, when Silas wasn’t taking shots, he watched how Finn ran back and forth inside the box, oftentimes diving to make the save by the very tips of his gloves. The man was a machine.
“Let’s take five,” Coach called after Bastian kicked one last ball at Finn. “Get some water, but don’t let those muscles cool down too much.”
All the guys jogged over to the benches to grab their bottles. Some players pulled out their phones to check their social media. The Brazilian guys started chatting with one another—their cautious English replaced with exuberant Portuguese.
Regardless of what they were doing, there was an underlying feeling of camaraderie between everyone—a camaraderie that wasn’t extended to Silas. He watched his fellow teammates from a safe distance while he drank deeply from his water bottle. A few of the guys continued to pass a ball back and forth, while another practiced his footwork.
