Page 63 of Rumor Has It

The woman frowned at her, clearly taken aback. “What?” She asked, her confidence shaken.

“Yeah, come on. I’d love to watch Wren shoot you down after we kicked y’all’s ass.” Becky flashed her a rather fake, southern charm infused smile. “I happen to be her travel buddy. I can put in a good word.”

The woman just shook her head and trudged back to her team’s bench. Becky, on the other hand, felt like she could fly. Her false smile faded into something very real as she sprinted towards the rest of her team. She wanted to throw her arms around Wren and pull her into a passionate kiss, but she knew that was not something she should even be dreaming about. So, instead, she squeezed into the other side of the circle and grinned at Wren from across the huddle.

Wren’s dimples were so prominent, Becky wondered if they hurt. They somehow managed to deepen when Wren’s eyes finally locked with hers. They did their best to listen to their coaches post-game speech, but all of the players were about ready to explode. They had done it. It was a hard-fought but very well-deserved win.

“Alright. Great work out there today,” Coach Jameson finally said, realizing his words were getting lost in the buzz of the team. He put his hand in, and everyone followed suit.

Their breakout chant was the loudest Becky had ever heard it. As the team broke and started to gather their stuff, they noticed a small group of American fans. On their way to the locker room, every player stopped by to sign their stuff and thank them for coming. It felt good to be a part of a team that meant more to people than just soccer.

Courtney Sinclair held her fist out for Becky to bump. “Turns out I’m down with you flattening other players when I’m on the same side as you,” she said with a laugh as they made it into the locker room.

“I, for one, love it when it’s not me,” Wren said, joining their conversation.

Becky couldn’t help but laugh with them, damn near glowing with joy at this newfound camaraderie. She hadn’t had it on this team yet, and she hadn’t realized how much that had been weighing on her. “I’m happy to be of service,” she said, her smile wider than it had ever been.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

WREN

Should she be icing her ankle right now? Probably. It was absolutely slightly sprained, but Wren had way too much energy to be hanging back in the team booth when the night-club they were at was playing nothing but dutch house music.

Wren had no clue what any of the lyrics meant, but she needed to dance to it. With all of the drama and, honestly, trauma, over the past few months, it had been a while since Wren had just truly gotten lost in the moment. She’d never really been a club person, that much was true, but she’d also never been in Sweden before. She was in Sweden on the Women’s National Team, and they had just won. So, yeah, Wren was going to dance her face off.

Most of the team seemed to have the same opinion. They were laughing and shaking it all around her. A very small part of her wished that there was some way that she and Rebecca could dance together in the club, but she knew that would be an awful idea. Thankfully, it seemed that Rebecca had the same understanding. That didn’t stop them from making really intense eye contact with each other from across the dance floor.

Rebecca didn’t dance like Wren did. Wren gave it everything, replicating all the moves she had seen in music videos over the years, but Rebecca danced like she did most things. Very precise, intentional movements. Wren only saw those walls come down in two places for Rebecca, in bed or on a soccer field. Just once, Wren wanted to see her actually move. She knew she could. She knew that Rebecca had the ability to roll her hips. She’d seen it and felt it first hand. Even thinking about it was intoxicating. Maybe the music was getting to her. Or maybe she’d had one drink too many.

With that thought, Wren ducked off the dance floor, heading for the bar. She should switch to water for a bit before she did something impulsive or reckless. She ordered a water and waited, turning back to watch her teammates. They’d played well together at their previous games, but today they’d felt like one cohesive unit. Watching like this, she could see the friendships that had formed, the bonds that were being made. They were becoming a team; the rookies were starting to gel in ways that they hadn’t before.

Her eyes drifted to Rebecca again, unable to stop her gaze from raking up Rebecca’s lithe body. The bartender slid the water bottle across the counter, and Wren used the moment as the distraction it was and, damn, did she need it. Rebecca looked stunning. She’d done something to her hair to make it wavy, and Wren found the effect dazzling.

Wren’s jaw had comically dropped when Rebecca had stepped out of their shared bathroom. The primary culprit was the top that Rebecca was wearing. It had a low scoop neck that Wren found herself desperate to trace with her tongue, contract be dammed.

Rebecca must have heard Wren’s thoughts because at that moment, she looked up, hazel eyes searching until they landed on Wren, leaned back against the bar.

Wren watched as Rebecca stalked closer, wondering if Rebecca knew the effect she was having. She had to. Her steps were too measured and calculated.

“How’s your after-party going?” Rebecca asked, leaning in far closer than necessary.

Wren could smell her subtle perfume mixed with whatever product she’d used on her hair. The combination was absolutely working. She cleared her throat and leaned back, just enough so that she could see Rebecca’s eyes. “It’s good. I wish we could dance, though.” She had to all but shout to be heard over the pumping music.

Rebecca laughed—a real one, light and playful. Holy shit was she beautiful. Her freckles looked radiant in the low lighting of the club. “I’m an awful dancer,” she yelled back, her voice carrying over the music.

“You shouldn’t be,” Wren mused, lifting a challenging eyebrow.

“Have you seen me out there?” Rebecca asked, her tone playful though self-deprecating.

Wren nodded. “Yeah. I still think you can dance, though.”

“Maybe you could show me some moves later?” Rebecca asked, easily stealing Wren’s water bottle to take a big drink of it.

Rebecca’s back was to their team, blocking Wren from view, and she knew that, but that didn’t make any of this less dangerous. They were playing with fire. Just like they were every time they got this close to each other. There was an undeniable spark between them. It was filling the space between them now. Wren wanted nothing more than to grab Rebecca’s hands and drag her back to their hotel right that second, but she couldn’t. They couldn’t leave until some of the other players left as well. They’d just have to tough it out and keep their hands to themselves for a little while longer. They should keep their hands to themselves for the rest of the year, but Wren couldn’t even pretend that that would be possible anymore.

Those warning lights and alarm bells that had been ringing in Wren’s mind all week had gone silent. Their history and the speed with which they always seemed to barrel over the edge had faded out of view as well. Wren was tired of pretending. She liked Rebecca. Rebecca liked her. Maybe for tonight, that could be all that mattered.